Back to High School For a Day
Half the year the sun is still down, but regardless one of Oxford's most publicized gathering spots is open for business and the clientele couldn't be anymore diverse.
From luxury cars to old beat up trucks, buses to bikes, teens to adults to those who could be retired, they make their way here five days a week. They wear gym shoes to dress pumps, rain jackets to blazers and the music they listen to couldn’t be more varied. They don’t all want to be here. Also, without a doubt, everybody here needs a day away every once in awhile, but they still come. The reasons that they show up every day are as different as the people, but in the end they come to share a part of themselves, to give and take the knowledge of others.
First bell rings, in the form of three strong and piercing noises that resemble an alarm clock, and a new day at Talawanda High School has begun.
Upon arriving at Talawanda, I felt as if I had shown up late for a party where I didn't know anyone else. I was a little nervous, to say the least, having not been in a high school in four years, as I drove around the parking lot attempting to find an unnumbered spot. Eventually, I just pulled into spot #18 and hoped that parking in the wrong spot here wasn't financially as detrimental as it is on Miami's campus that is less than a block away.
The school from the entrance appears to be rather
similar to other high schools, one level of red brick and brown stone with large
windows placed every few feet.
Stepping inside, I couldn’t have been taken aback anymore than I was by
the scent of the paste that holds book bindings together and soft perfume made
strong by a young girl's overuse, both mixed with the scent of formaldehyde
coming from the biology labs.
Morning starts in the high traffic area, commonly known as Assistant Principal Deanna Lancaster’s office. Mrs. Lancaster is a petite and attractive young blonde woman, wife and mother. After five years of teaching English and advising the cheerleading squad, last year Mrs. Lancaster moved up to her current administrative position. During the mornings, Mrs. Lancaster is manager and regulator of the school, with her real, personable, laidback demeanor making her the perfect candidate to work closely with the students. That doesn’t mean though, that her smiles and pleasantries can’t quickly change to stern looks and no-nonsense rhetoric when dealing with students who assume they can take advantage of her kind-hearted nature.
However, the administrative sector of the high school isn’t all about disipline. The main office seems to be the hub of the school, led by Secretary Linda Gleason. Nothing happens in the school without her knowing. Students stop in to grab passes and give a quick hello, and maybe even share a little gossip. High school relationships come out in the office, much like Hollywood relationships come out on the Oscars’ red carpet. A senior guy walks in with a new young girl and the talk begins. Many of the high school relationships are surrounded by the same awe and curiosity that follows celebrity romance. The office’s wide eyes and excited smiles over who is spending time with whom is second only to the cafeteria when it comes to gossip.
Upon entering the cafeteria, I was quickly reminded
of my age and the horror that a high school lunchroom can be if you’re
not “in the loop.” Somehow these high school students knew that
I didn’t fit in and greeted me with blank stares, as if waiting for an
explanation. Soon enough, my new face faded into the background as more pertinent
matters of relationships, homework and weekend plans found their way back into
conversation.
Afternoon brings a change of pace, as a room filled with tapestries, posters of today’s alternative musicians and a sign covering the television that reads “Big Brother is Watching,” is the setting for English with Mr. Matt Aerni. The class starts with a Neil Young song accompanied by in-class journal writing on the word “iconoclast.” Neil Young, however, is only slightly louder than the music of 97.3 WOXY that comes from the computer on Mr. Aerni’s desk, as his student assistant listens carefully in an attempt to win tickets to the Coldplay concert.
At the same time, down the hall, Mrs. Guenther’s chemistry for the community class makes a mess trying to review the process of water filtration and distillation. Participating in what she calls “the performance she put on” several times a day, Mrs. Guenther keeps the class interesting by using several different teaching methods. Her “performances” give her a great rapport with her students that allows her to relate to them and receive respect at the same time.
In the biotechnology labs across the hall from Mrs. Guenther’s room, students are eager for the upcoming science fair. They take pride in sharing their project involving DNA and paternity testing. Using packaged kits of DNA, the students figured out a way to determine the paternity of the DNA tested. They were kind enough to show me a sample of the DNA under the microscope, although to be honest even as a fourth year Miami student I didn’t understand much of what they were sharing.
In the end though, the day’s achievements
aren’t all counted in the grades of the students, reviews of the teachers,
paychecks of the employees or school’s report card, but in the fact that
so many people came and gave a part of themselves to each other. The teacher
who encouraged her students to stand up for what they think is right. The student
who made a joke in the back of the class that made someone else having a rough
day smile. The girl who asked the cute boy in school if he had a girlfriend
because her friend didn’t have the nerve to do it herself. The boy who
gave a boy from “the wrong crowd” a ride home so he didn’t
have to walk in the rain. The administrator who patted a teacher on the back
on one of those days when they felt they weren’t making a difference.
These are the activities that help everyone who has the privilege of coming to this gathering place grow. They come together from farms, cities and everywhere in between, not only as classmates and colleagues but also as friends. When the afternoon closes the high school, they only partially separate. The foundation they have created here allow them to meet outside the school with the bonds that they have made in it.
Read a story by Michelle about Talwanda students taking a stand against hate