"Jail for Kids" AKA High School

EDIT NOW LISTED AT THE END:
I haven't beefed up my iTunes at work in a while and I've been getting sick of its current rotation - not more than an hour ago, it dawned on me that I hadn't used my Yahoo Music Launchcast in months. Happily, I tuned to "Annejelynn's Station" and prepared myself for a delightful, totally random mix to be taken from the artists and music genres I'd specified in my preferences. The first song that played was "Ask Me" from The Smiths! and I was immediately hurtled back into my adolescent years! WHAT.A.HORRIBLE.FEELING; a total mish-mash of emotions, all quite strong and a tad bit overwhelming, yet can easily be summed up by a deeeeep-quiet-guttural groan. I'm tellin' ya, NO ONE could pay me enuff to re-live high school. I'd rather return to BYU (coughing - gagging now - pardon me - clearing my throat) in a cold heartbeat than go through high school again. Now, don't' get me wrong, it wasn't really that bad - nothing truly traumatic happened to me in high school - but, I only say this because I know without a doubt that it could have been so-so-so-so-sooooo much worse... I still don't think my parents realize how true this last statement is. It was no walk in the park for them, but it could have been BAAHHHD - really bad.

In H.S., I was known as a very smiley girl, often teased about my squinty, disappearing eyes. I was easily amused (still am) and I laughed a lot (still do) and was friendly to most anyone (no change there) and very anti-cliques (definitely no change there either). I had myself a wide variety of different friends/acquaintances (still do). Those I considered my true friends, most which were seen as artistic eccentric types (still are), were few and far between (now spread about across several state lines). After my freshman year, thoroughly disgusted by clothing brand obsessions (still hate 'em) and the never-ending quest to look cool, yet cute and attractive for people I didn't care about (and still don't), I wore a pair of blue-tinted "John Lennon" style shades, my mother's navy, wool peacoat, began sewing most of my own clothes and donned boy's Wrangler jeans, much to my father's dismay. Consequently, an uncle gave me the nickname "F.C." for Flower Child. NOTE re: School ID Card: check out the eyebrows!? and I was plucking?!? The pic for this ID card was taken during my jr. year, although issued for my senior year ID.

Most teachers either loved and adored me or I was hated = I was a subtle (very subtle) smart ass... Frankly, I believe some teachers found me entertaining while others, I feel, just didn't appreciate the challenge. Moreover, I was seen as a teacher's pet by some, although in each case it was genuine on my part. I worked a couple semesters as a TA for two of my favorite teachers. I often registered for "Advanced Placement" classes to avoid total boredom, although my parents argued against it until the day of my H.S. graduation. It's no coincidence that my most packed, chock-full year -that would be my sophomore year- was my best on record. Most of my H.S. activities revolved around pseudo-intellectual and creative studies: Jr. Achievement, Concert choir, Madrigals, women's chorus, Lincoln-Douglas debate club, Model UN, Amnesty International... I helped establish the school paper recycling program, dabbled a bit in the school newspaper and photography, and the school's annual poetry and lit publication, "The Plain Brown Wrapper." I also loved my pottery/ceramics classes. Outside of school, I was on the "Young Women's" church basketball team and participated in various church sponsored activities, including roadshows, youth conferences and summer camps. I spent a few summers playing tennis and volunteering as "Buffy," a Girl Scouts summer camp counselor. I also enjoyed private art lessons and spent many nights a week attending a ballet academy. I was busy, BUHT (and I got me a big butt) I wanted MORE - !?! - girls soccer team, swim team, theatre, MORE! NOTE: This desire I had for more activity has in the past tainted my memories of all that I did do/accomplish. Only when I finally made a list of all I had done, could I rightfully deny my previous feeling that "I didn't do anything in H.S." The accuracy of my memories were not helped in that by my mid-junior year, I had nearly given up on all of my activities except a few I could maintain while at school - stunted by the consequences of my own reckless behavior and resulting parental mistrust and parental complaints. Moving on to my point...

Whenever I see a group of teenagers, my inner self cringes to see them in their awfully awkward state. A rare few seem secure and remarkably well-adjusted, yet capricious, nonetheless, and utterly clueless as to who they really are and what lies ahead. Most look so painfully uncomfortable in their own skin; so desperate to be "cool" and well-liked; trying so hard to look as if they're not trying at all; acting all aloof, as if they don't care what anyone thinks, yet their world REVOLVES around fulfilling the expectations of some image they have in mind for themselves = usually an image that can't be attained without some self-harm of some kind. Who can blame them? High school, by no means does it serve to prepare kids for the real world... it's more like a disservice, just like teen magazines - that's a whole 'nother discussion though.

Knowing I will have to deal directly with teenager(s) someday, whether it be my own or my honey-man's angel boy-O, my heart just aches with hopes upon hopes that they will not fall down in such a way that it will negatively affect the rest of their adult lives. There's so much for them to face in this world that conflicts with what we try to teach to our kids, and despite all our best intentions to help and protect, to advise and admonish, we're bound to make some mistakes along the way, AND they will/should look for guidance from others beyond our reach and control. NOTE: The latter is GOOD and HEALTHY only if they choose to look to those who have their best interests at heart. Furthermore, I do NOT believe a parent should be a child's only source of wisdom and guidance = it's no good if kids cling to parental advice, unable to choose for themselves, unable to determine what they want for themselves, taking on only what the parents envision = either way, kids must find and make their own way.

Seeing teenagers struggle, it breaks my heart on a daily basis. There are a gazillion mixed messages being sent out to teens from all over. Although some may try to claim teenagers are the most fickle, superficial beings on this earth (I sooo beg to differ), teenagers are usually the most PASSIONATE when it comes to whatever they've choosen to value. Although they tend to be egocentric (tell me who isn't?), their strong-felt convictions are the very root of their energy and power, yet at the same time, the very reason life can be such hell for them. Almost every experience is the end-all, be-all of their existence; everything is crucial. Whether they see a light at the tunnel (life beyond H.S. graduation) or they live exclusively in the here-and-now with no thought to the long-term consequences of their actions, their sense of worth rides upon so many different things, things that mean the world to them.

I spent 4 years of my life as a "J.K.F. Cougar" at John F. Kennedy H.S. in Cedar Rapids, Iowa - I called it "Jail For Kids" and I couldn't wait to get out. For me, my adolescence amounted to a great deal of painful confusion and self-loathing. And of course, these feelings carried over into my undergraduate years... blak. And after my divorce? "Damaged" doesn't begin to explain it. I don't imagine things will be the same for my honey-man's angel boy-O, thank the heavens that be. I hope he will instead have a healthy sense of self, independent of those who love him, yet well grounded in our love for him. It will be so important for him in his efforts to successfully deal with the daily challenges and lifetime decisions ahead of him. Clear, consistent communication will be key to help him. I have my fingers crossed.

EDIT FOR CLARIFICATION WITHOUT GOING INTO SIGNIFICANT DETAIL: I hated high school not just because it was high school, plagued by superficial popularity contests, cliques n' fakers and 2-faced kids, etc. Most of my friends who knew me back then, said then and even now that I'm one of those people who thinks about everything too much. Honestly, I had a lot on my mind in high school - most of it involved everyday family dynamics rooted in DEEP, PAINFUL family issues revolving around the death of my mother and my own personal struggles with the Mormon church. That's the OVERLY oversimplied explanation.