Trauma-rama
Oh, high school. I spent most of high school not taking risks, and as a result I have very few interesting stories. But here’s one.
I was a very good girl, as has already been stated here. I went to a very tiny high school (my graduating class: 18). And I was the high school newspaper editor. Which was about as tiny as the high school: 8.5x11 paper, printed on the school computer printer, copies run by me. I was really the only one interested in being the “editor,” so I did most of the work.
At our school, we had Senior Wills and Junior Wishes. Seniors could “will” things to the Juniors, and Juniors could “wish” things for or on the Seniors. These were published in the May issue of our newspaper, at least the year that I was editor. I collected them all, typed them up, and then prepared to print them.
Now, a bunch of high schoolers, given free rein, will write some inappropriate stuff. And I knew that some of the wills/wishes were slightly inappropriate, especially for a Christian school. I myself had submitted a slightly inappropriate wish for my brother, veiled in terms only he would understand.
But many of the wills and wishes were not as subtle as mine. And, wishing to be a bit “bad,” I didn’t give the newspaper to my teacher advisor to be edited or proofed. I decided there really wasn’t time, printed the paper, ran the copies, and handed them out.
Then, all hell broke loose. The good thing about this story: I actually have my journal entry from that date. May 24, 1996.
“The bad thing about today was that my uncensored newspaper was distributed, and I was reprimanded by Mr. K---- for that, and then I had to discuss it with Mr. M------ [the principal], but I don’t know what the point of that ways. I started crying, which made me feel stupid and made Mr. M----- and Mrs. F----- feel bad for me. . . . When I saw the newspaper Mr. M----- had, it was all highlighted. I assume that the highlighted parts were the “questionable” parts. He must’ve been reading a lot into it, though, because there weren’t that many questionable parts, although maybe I’m incredibly naïve. That was what bothered me the most—Mr. M------ and Mrs. F----- thought that kids had taken advantage of me—but they hadn’t. Why does that thought bother me so much?”
Two comments. First, I was pretty naïve. My (younger) brother explained all the pot references to me later. Second, it’s sad how much I’m still like this. Apparently even at 17, I could see that I had serious issues with being patronized.
Almost eleven years later, not much has changed.
I was a very good girl, as has already been stated here. I went to a very tiny high school (my graduating class: 18). And I was the high school newspaper editor. Which was about as tiny as the high school: 8.5x11 paper, printed on the school computer printer, copies run by me. I was really the only one interested in being the “editor,” so I did most of the work.
At our school, we had Senior Wills and Junior Wishes. Seniors could “will” things to the Juniors, and Juniors could “wish” things for or on the Seniors. These were published in the May issue of our newspaper, at least the year that I was editor. I collected them all, typed them up, and then prepared to print them.
Now, a bunch of high schoolers, given free rein, will write some inappropriate stuff. And I knew that some of the wills/wishes were slightly inappropriate, especially for a Christian school. I myself had submitted a slightly inappropriate wish for my brother, veiled in terms only he would understand.
But many of the wills and wishes were not as subtle as mine. And, wishing to be a bit “bad,” I didn’t give the newspaper to my teacher advisor to be edited or proofed. I decided there really wasn’t time, printed the paper, ran the copies, and handed them out.
Then, all hell broke loose. The good thing about this story: I actually have my journal entry from that date. May 24, 1996.
“The bad thing about today was that my uncensored newspaper was distributed, and I was reprimanded by Mr. K---- for that, and then I had to discuss it with Mr. M------ [the principal], but I don’t know what the point of that ways. I started crying, which made me feel stupid and made Mr. M----- and Mrs. F----- feel bad for me. . . . When I saw the newspaper Mr. M----- had, it was all highlighted. I assume that the highlighted parts were the “questionable” parts. He must’ve been reading a lot into it, though, because there weren’t that many questionable parts, although maybe I’m incredibly naïve. That was what bothered me the most—Mr. M------ and Mrs. F----- thought that kids had taken advantage of me—but they hadn’t. Why does that thought bother me so much?”
Two comments. First, I was pretty naïve. My (younger) brother explained all the pot references to me later. Second, it’s sad how much I’m still like this. Apparently even at 17, I could see that I had serious issues with being patronized.
Almost eleven years later, not much has changed.
Labels: Childhood trauma
posted by Melanie at 11:12 PM
