In my first memory of Tom Vaught, he was getting thrown out of gym class. That happened a lot; he tended to cause what we used to call a ruckus, and subsequently would often be seen sitting in the chair next to Miss O’Boyle’s desk, waiting to be called into the vice principal’s office ( Read more... )

In case you haven't noticed, and based on the attendance, you haven't, this year brings the occasion of my 30th high school reunions. I say plural, because -- and let's not always see the same hands -- there was more than one school from which I might have graduated had my residence not changed twice in the space of an educational trajectory ( Read more... )

In my junior year of high school, I took a class called English Literature 400. Since it was crammed into one semester, we started with Beowulf, which was balanced with the modern novel Grendel, then touched on Paradise Lost before tackling a few Canterbury Tales. From there it was on to Shakespeare, including a few plays and several sonnets ( Read more... )

I got some positive reinforcement a couple of weeks back when I met up with two friends from grade school -- one of whom I'd seen last year, but for the other, it had been just short of 32 years. I moved away from this town after the fifth grade, and the other two had left after the sixth. In the case of the 32-year absence, that would have been ( Read more... )

For my entire pre-college academic career, I never once had to go to school (for classes, anyway) before Labor Day. That meant I spent the month of August and sometimes a few days of September trying not to think about school or worry about which of my tormentors, imagined or not, would be in my classes ( Read more... )