Senior Week

Walking down the street today, I came across a sign announcing "Senior Week" at Boynton Beach Community High School. I thought of two things: 1) Senior Week is possibly a daily event in this parts of the country; 2) how I missed most of my own senior week over 20 years ago.

I was one of those kids that finished high school early. I had enough credits and wanted to get a head start on my college savings (something I probably should have thought of long before I only had eight months left before college began). I didn't give the subject much thought. Why, I concluded, would I want to go to classes--even for a half day--if I didn't really need to? I'm sure I consulted with them, but I seem to remember I just made the proclamation one day that I had applied for early graduation. No discussion. No thought about what I'd be missing. Nothing.

One thing I had decided was that I would "walk" with the rest of my class. I didn't want to participate in a smaller event (if they even had one), opting to wait until June to officially receive my diploma.

So, I got a job at Harris Bank as a teller, and I worked. Life, of course, went on without me at Conant High School, much the same way it did when I was there. I was one of those kids who didn't participate in school sponsored activities. I was in the band, but I got out of going to football and basketball games on Friday nights to perform with the marching and pep bands. I liked to write, but I wasn't interested in being a reporter for the school paper. I lifted weights alone, at Gold's Gym, not with the football team. Coach Ayers asked me to join the football team my senior year, wondering, quite insistently, if I didn't want to be a "real athlete." I confidently countered with a simple, "I already am an athlete."

Toward the end of the school year, I got a couple official invitations, like ones announcing a wedding or baby shower, to end of the year events. I got one for graduation, which made sense. I also got one for Senior Breakfast. I had friends who were still in school, so I learned about other events through word-of-mouth. The biggest of the events was Senior Prom. I didn't have a girlfriend (until the day after graduation), so prom was out for me. I wanted to participate in some of the events, but since I was technically no longer a student, my options were limited.

I decided to go to Senior Breakfast. It was one of those semi-formal events, where students would sit 10 to a table, wear flowered lapels and corsages, sign each other's year books, reminisce, and look at pictures. It was sure to be a cliquey event, with a wealth of memories that didn't include me. Why I decided to attend continues to remain a mystery to me.

I had already moved on with my life. I wasn't any better than the rest of the class, I had simply had the opportunity to taste the after high school life. I wasn't welcomed with open arms. People didn't drop their forks when they saw me enter the ballroom at the Cotillion. No one grabbed an extra chair and ask me to join their table. I was as invisible as I was the 3 1/2 years prior.

Cyndi has homeschooled Frederic and Lily all of their lives. People often jump to high school when they ask about our future educational plans for our children. They think about their own social interaction in high school. They equate their personal experience to what should be the norm for others. I didn't have a great high school experience. Cyndi didn't either. She also graduated early.

But that doesn't mean our kids will necessarily have the same experiences we did. Frederic has already announced that he wants to go to "regular" high school. If we remain living in the house we currently reside at, that means he will also go to Conant.

I cannot live vicariously through him. I cannot correct the mistakes I made myself by living his life. I can, however, help him consider the other side of the coin. The side in which "Senior Week" does not equal regret.