I can't believe that is has been 15 years since I graduated from high school. I don't feel that old!
My graduating class was pretty small, less than 100 girls (all girls, Catholic school). Over the years, I've stayed in contact with only one on a regular basis. A few years back, I got nostalgic and decided go back to the old school at an alumna open house. I was a little disappointed to see that only one other girl from my graduating class in attendance, unfortunately, not one that I was cool with back in the day, so we really didn't talk much. But I saw several from the class of '93. There was even a few from the class of '74. Seeing the group from the class of '74 intrigued me the most. For one, they were a group of black women. Why would that strike me? This school has always had a predominately white student population. When I went to school there, there may have been, maybe 10-15 of us out of about 96 students. So, I guess I assumed that there were far fewer than that in the '70s. The other thing was they were talking like old friends, not like old classmates that just happened to come to the 30 year class reunion to see a bunch of people with whom they would not normally socialize. So, I sat and talked to them a while. I made a comment about the fact that I was surprised to see a group of black women from that school still friends after so much time. They came from a '70s black pride frame of mind. For them, it was important to stick together. Over the years, aside from the school reunions, they have had their own reunion of sorts, a couple of times a year. That inspired me a bit.
I attempted to get in contact with a few of the black women with whom I graduated. I was able to contact three, not including the one that I have been in contact with the entire time. One of the women was one that I was good friends with in high school, but had a falling out with after college. Two of the three responded very positively. The third, the one I had a falling out with, had previous plans. That was fine, but I got the impression that she felt that I should coordinate the gathering around her schedule. Now, I'm thinking that I contacted her in plenty of time, but she took her sweet time with getting back to me. That's my fault? I don't think so.
Anyway, four of us got together for a little cookout at my mom's house. We had a pretty good time, catching up with one another. I hoped to do something like this maybe once or twice a year, alternating hosts and slowly, but surely connecting with more former classmates. However, I suppose that it wasn't fully meant to be. People stopped returning my phone calls. That was enough for me to lose interest. I would say that black pride is not as hardcore in the '90s as it was in the '70s. I would say that, but in our case, it is probably is just as simple as a lot of us just didn't get along.
Afterwards, I came back to my initial feelings about high school reunions. I will probably never, ever go to one of mine. There really isn't that many people from my graduating class, if any at all, that I am dying to see or are dying to see me. All of us have grown up and moved on. I'm sure there are a few of us that would prefer not to ever, ever, ever be reminded of their high school years. I am a bit indifferent. While my high school years were not the best years of my life, they certainly was not the worst. I still think the best is yet to come.
Friday, June 29, 2007
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