Posts Tagged ‘high school’

The band camp test

// July 31st, 2009 // 4 Comments » // school, teenagers

Even with a drum saving Sarah’s boyfriend from being squished by a teen driver, I forget that we’ve been doing band camp for three years now. It has poured rain every day this week, but the band is still marching, every day, in the monsoon, from 8 in the morning until 8:30 or 9 every night. Yesterday, I sat in the office of another high school waiting for my appointment as a dazed parent wandered in the center of the school preparation chaos.

“Can I help you?”
“Um, yes. My daughter is a freshman, err, is going to be a freshman and doesn’t want to come to band camp anymore. How do I get band off her class schedule?”
“Well, the guidance counselor is away for training all week. Maybe you can reach her by e-mail.”
“Oh, uh, thanks. We’re going home now.”
“Good luck.”

I squirmed in my chair and bit my tongue so that I didn’t blurt, “You AND your child need to go talk to the band director right now.”

I’m not a pageant mom, but . . .

// December 9th, 2008 // 6 Comments » // parenting, school, teenagers

When life was so simple that I could get worked up over things that don’t matter, I complained about the evils of putting small children in beauty pageants. I made sure everyone knew I was boycotting the televised pageants for 18-year-olds. I was very confident and uncompromising in my brilliant pre-parent years. Then, I had children. I still refused the pageant suggestions, but when I thought we were safely past the child modeling years, I was blindsided where I wasn’t expecting it. Color Guard. Flag Corps. Whatever you want to call the high school and older girls who twirls flags and wood rifles. They are the gateway drug to evil. Maybe I’m exaggerating a teeny bit. Let’s review how we got here.

Since I decided in my know everything years that students who are involved in school activities are less likely to get into trouble, I enthusiastically supported all of Sarah’s clubs and activities in middle school. The summer before her freshman year of high school, it was clear that she wanted to be in the color guard. It seemed wholesome and just the right amount of time consumption. Sure, it was expensive, but if it turned out to be her thing, it could be her way to pay for college. All of our children know that they are going to work their way through college, but it’s up to them if their job will be washing dishes or marching on the field at football games. The first hint that I didn’t know what I had agreed to with Color Guard was last year’s “no underwear” uniform. In order to avoid unsightly lines showing, the girls wore nothing under their costumes. I was less than thrilled, but spent enough years in theater to understand. Revelation number two came after the outside temperature made the underwear-less uniforms too revealing and the girls were asked to duct tape the overly perky area of their anatomy. This still bothers me. It seems dangerous to use heavy duty tape on any skin. This year the girls wore unitards under their costumes and I thought we were past the surprises. I was wrong.

“Can I be on the winter guard team?” I didn’t understand why there was a color guard team after football season ended, but Sarah loves color guard and as long as Sarah is making straight A’s, it’s hard to complain. Winter guard is a thirty minute drive to the other side of town and is a blend of flag happy girls from several different high schools. Practice is 3 – 5 times a week. The cost is ridiculous, but they kindly allow us to make several $100 payments. Mmkay. The first new revelation was that winter guard is the extreme sport version of Color Guard. Apparently, the regular season team at her high school is adjusted activity to make girls of all sizes able to participate. Before anyone gets offended, I know that all of those girls are more physically active than I am. Winter guard is dance, gymnastics and lots of falling down. Not oops I tripped, but drop flat on your face on purpose falling down. Sarah’s knees were one giant purple bruise the first few practices. Then, Sarah started making casual comments in passing. For example, as she was walking out the door she would suddenly remember, “I’m not allowed to get my haircut until after competitions end in March, but at least I don’t hafta get extensions like some of the other girls.” Blink-blink. High school students getting hair extensions? That’s kuh-ray-zee. Next came the coach’s request that she get contact lenses asap. Yesterday it was, “we’re all coloring our hair black to contrast our uniforms.” What? This is getting completely out of control. Next thing I know they’ll all be asking for implants and tattoo lip liner. This is starting to feel a lot like a beauty pageant.

Homecoming

// September 26th, 2008 // No Comments » // flickr, school

Homecoming dresses
Sarah & Zachlove this move

high school is like home

// September 20th, 2008 // No Comments » // local, people, school

I still don’t have a picture of Sarah doing the half-time show that I really like. I tried again last night. On my way into the stadium, a vice-principal waved and asked me about Tommy. A few minutes later, a parent asked me how Tommy is doing. Almost immediately another parent asked, followed quickly by a teacher checking on Tommy. Before I left the high school campus, more than a dozen different people kindly stopped me and asked about a child who is no longer a student at that school. High school is a community unlike any other. It is a place where every child matters. Friday night football games are family reunions. Not Tyler Perryish passive-aggressive family gatherings, but spirit-nurturing family reunions. High School is your great grandmother’s house. You don’t live there, but it is always home.

Homecoming is just the appetizer to Prom

// September 17th, 2008 // No Comments » // clothing, parenting, teenagers

I picked the trio of female high schoolers up from the high school. They immediately asked if they could go to the mall. As I dropped them off, they announced that they didn’t want to carry their backpacks. I assumed that meant I would be driving around town delivering backpacks later tonight. I got home and the text messages began.
Since homecoming is next week*, can I get my hair cut?”
“Okay. Let me know what time your appointment is and I’ll go back to the mall and pay.”
“Umm, actually, there was no wait, so she’s already started cutting it.”
“What if I had said no?”
“I knew you wouldn’t, since homecoming is next week.”

*Since homecoming is next week is a phrase that precedes every request to go somewhere, do something or buy a **dress/shoes/purse/hair product. Beware of those words.

**dress/shoes/purse – consignment store for $70. I pointed out that she’s going to need a specialty undergarment for the dress she chose. I anticipate she will begin to panic about that item the day before homecoming.

How I ruined Color Guard

// September 11th, 2008 // 10 Comments » // me, parenting, school

Have you seen this? According to my 15-year-old, I’m an all-powerful, evil villain who is personally responsible for all the woes of Bearden High School’s Color Guard. Students in Color Guard get a credit on their high school transcript. Since they are on block schedule, the class is about 25% of their regular school day. I have this silly idea that regular school hours are for learning and the absence of a teacher or ANY adult supervision during that time is neglect on the school’s part. I’m old fashioned that way. So, after several weeks of waiting for the school to find someone to supervise the Color Guard during school hours, Sarah came home with blood on her face and shirt. The injury was harmless and one of those freaky things that only happen to our family, but I wasn’t going to wait for something serious to happen. I sent the new principal an e-mail.

The principal replied within minutes from his handy-dandy BlackBerry. “I understand your concern. I will remedy the problem.” Awesome. I waited a few days to hear a reaction from Sarah. Finally, I asked if anything was different during 4th period. Sarah’s eyes rolled back in her head as it spun around in slow motion. Laser beams shot out of her eyes and fire came out of her mouth as she spoke. “The teacher is really mad. She said that someone’s parent called the school to complain. Now we have a babysitter. I know it was you who complained.” I processed the lava that my teen spat upon me. The teacher blamed the students and pitted them against each other because I sent one e-mail. I offered to call and talk to the teacher. Sarah‘s head exploded. I told her I would back off. For now.

So, the Color Guard are now eating their own and half of them can’t learn the routine, because of me. I want to try and fix this problem of my own making. Maybe if I send an e-mail . . .

geezin’ about Elvis

// January 8th, 2008 // 1 Comment » // people, school

TN bloggers are remembering Elvis today. Having spent the majority of my life in Memphis, I blogged all my good Elvis stories back in 2004. I’ll pretend that the statute of limitations has run on out on them and repeat my most absurd Elvis memory. I graduated from a private Baptist school in Memphis. Every Wednesday, we had mandatory “chapel” services. The school’s Vice Principal had an adult son who was an Elvis impersonator. I guess they had trouble booking people to do those Wednesday services, because several times a year the service was an Elvis impersonator singing religious songs. Picture a 20-something dressed as Elvis, singing at a pulpit while an entire congregation of teens sat with their mouths half open in horror. I stopped attending the chapel services after my sophomore year. Every adult in the school was afraid of the computer lab and avoided it completely. It became the sanctuary for everyone skipping chapel. Computers and sinners. Made for each other.

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