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Class of '88, Remember Me?

The self-talk that convinced me to go to my 30-year class reunion.

By Bridgette BaynesPublished 3 years ago 7 min read
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Class of '88, Remember Me?
Photo by Thomas Park on Unsplash

Oh boy, it is hard to believe that it had been 30 years since I crossed the stage of the coliseum, full of optimism and eagerness to embrace being recognized as an adult. Like many, I left the ceremony with my family, went to the obligatory dinner then immediately took off to meet up with my friends. We spent the summer making grandiose plans and promises that were intended to be kept. When fall came about, so did the evolution of me into the person I am today.

Like the many sweltering Arkansas summers before, most days of this final summer were spent by the pool working on my elusive tan. Nights were timed just right to cruise Geyer, but never too early. Somehow, there was always the whispering notion that I knew this summer would end differently. I wasn’t to return to the familiar halls of high school but to a new campus, with new classmates and a new sense of (ir)responsibility. Perhaps that is why as this particular August drew near, it would be the final opportunity to return to high school. Was this why I decided to attend my class reunion?

1. I hated high school! That’s right; I attended my high school reunion because I really hated high school. I mean, didn’t we all to some degree? Sure we enjoyed seeing our friends, going to games, getting away with breaking a few (or more) rules, but really it was just a routine.

I am sure that we all had similar daily drills. Get up, struggle for the just-right outfit. Ensure to wear too much makeup and enough Aqua Net to last the next 10 hours. Get on the bus (ugh, those who rode the bus know exactly what I mean). Race to 1st period, for me, was band. This sucked even more as my locker would be in the opposite hall from my remaining classes. Over the next 6 hours, time was measured as 55-minute blocks listening to the droning of the subject du jour. The top of the hour offered a brief respite ensued in the disguise of a 5-minute crush of swimming through the crowded hallways to the next class. The daily penance would conclude with an hour-long bus ride after waiting in the unholy mess called "the bus line."

Because of the uniqueness of our high school, most of us went to junior high together and some as far back as elementary school. Everyone seemed to know everyone, and we thought that we knew everything about each other. High school was a tiny fishbowl, and every insecurity that I had at that moment seemed to magnified. I took the path of embracing my insecurities and masking them with a“Fuck It!” carefree attitude. Don’t get me wrong, the attitude is still there, but I now understand when it is appropriate to display it.

2. The past is the past, and it should stay there! For some things in my life, this is SO true, but I am part of an exceptional group that shared this same experience. I remember being in class watching the Challenger disaster and looking around the class and seeing the excitement as it quickly changed to horror. Marching in the State fair parade and holding the band banner when a streaker walked out in front. I almost lost my shit! Learning of the senseless death of a classmate and wondering why? Then there were such cultural events - Hands Across America (I know it's corny, but did you do it too?), Queen performing at Live Aid, discussing “The Day After,” going to the State Fair every Fall, and the race track in the Spring.

We gathered for pizza on Friday nights after games. We wore the tread off our parent's cars cruising for miles along Geyer Springs. So yes, the past is the past, but the only words that best describe this past that would make our beloved English teacher Mrs. Larson proud are as follows:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”

3. I keep in touch with those that I want to! Over the years, I have kept in touch with some. Yet, I am ever in wonder as to how in the world did we ever live in a time without social media and cell phones? We actually had conversations, sent one another a letter, and anxiously awaited a response. Do you remember wanting to meet up with friends and having to make plans in advance? Was my eyesight truly so crisp that not only could I write complete sentences on tiny scraps of paper, serendipitously slide it across the aisle underneath my penny loafers, but I could read the response without fumbling for a pair of readers? Although social media is excellent, it is also a little bit like looking at a photo album, static, always having the perspective of the person behind the lens. I wanted to listen to one another as we shared favorite memories, enjoying the laughter that happens when something is so funny that you cannot contain yourself or, much less, finish the sentence. Is there anything more anticipatory than waiting for the words that follow, “Do you remember that time when we…?” So yes, I did keep in touch with some, but I hoped to connect with many more who it has been far too many years since we last spoke.

4. I am not the same person, and I am sure it will be boring! Let’s just say that me not being the same person is a good thing. I was a rebellious teenager with an eclectic sense of style, foul mouth, and a proclivity for Marlboro Lights. The rebelliousness was replaced with an awareness of rules and responsibility. (I occasionally go through the express checkout with 12 items instead of 10 and stare down at the cashier to make me put something back. My argument is in place, and it really is 10 items because two are the same and it is not like if I had a bunch of bananas that you would count each one separately. To date, I have yet been allowed to unleash this logic.) As for my sense of style, there is always a time and place. I am deeply committed to my sweaters and continue to wear them even in 100-degree weather. And who doesn't love a good paisley print? I am fluent in profanity and have added a few more to my lexicon. However, I do try to refrain from dropping F-bombs in polite company. The Marlboro’s gave way to other brands throughout the years, but I did kick the habit. As for being boring...well, so am I these days!

5. It’s just not that important! In the timeline of my life, nope, this wasn’t that important. But I attend because there are those of us that could not. Every year, our class roster continues to get a little smaller. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

Update - I enjoyed breaking bread and catching up with what each of us has been doing since we last met. Our class AV kid had the forethought of always having his camera at this side during our youth. He captured many long-lost memories in which we all remain timeless teenagers. I have one last confession, waking up with a slight hangover in my parents' house did give the entire weekend authenticity.

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About the Creator

Bridgette Baynes

Experience has made me into whom I've become. Time has taught me to love who I am.

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