Thanks Celine... you don't know how perfectly those words matched the sentiment I felt this past Friday upon taking in my first high school footfall game in, oh, about 7 years.
Caesar, GC's son plays for the local varsity football team as a running back. Unfortunately he injured his ankle in pre-season and can't play at the moment, but that doesn't mean GC and I can't go out and support. And support we did.
I don't quite know how to explain all the emotions that rushed back as I took in the game from my bleacher seats, the students and teachers, the high school drama, oh, and the bodies running into each other on the 50 yard line. It was as if I had transported myself back in time to 1999 and was seeing the field through my 16 year old eyes and feeling all the emotions that came with being hormone-ridden, 20 pounds heavier, and not quiet as confident as I would have liked.
Contrary to what the above might elude, despite my inner confidence issues, high school was not a terrible experience for me. In fact, I had a good group of friends, was active in a lot of different sports and clubs, and though I never felt "popular" I imagine from the outside looking in, it appeared as though I had a pretty easy road through the trials and tribulations of high school, even if I never achieved the coveted role of the high school elite.
My friends and I had a lot of fun over our four years. We shared classes and experiences, I threw some great dinner parties, and we had a lot of boy/girl group hangout sessions (strangely reminiscent at times of a middle school dance, boys on one side of the room, girls on the other). Long story short, we formed a tight group. Many of those friends and I still keep in touch, if not with the intensity of high school, at least in a friendly catch up with one another when we happen to be in the same city sort of way.
But even with the relatively easy go of it I had compared to some high school students, I still suffered the same internal battles; wondering if I would ever be cool, if I was pretty enough, or good enough for the boy of my dreams, if I would get into college; and I was equally impacted by the external world of high school; the who's dating who, the drama of young relationships, and the urgency of living. Even then I recognized a football game served as the quintessential melting pot for all of these internal and external dynamics and perceptions. But since the days when I was a part of it, I guess I never really thought about how profoundly it had impacted me.
I was onto the next step, and apart from a lingering crush, I kind of left high school in the dust. I moved onto bigger and better things and in the course of my four years at college I changed immensely, as most people do. What I realized upon returning to high school this past weekend however, was that none of those feelings were ever really dealt with, only moved past.
So when the flood of feelings surrounded me again, the wondering if I fit in, the awareness that this was a place to be and be seen and the fear that what people were seeing in me wasn't good enough, it was all very fresh and very real. The only difference this time, was that I had gained the confidence I lacked in high school and somewhere along the way, realized that I was doing ok, and in fact, that I had a lot of great things going for me. As the game went on, a shift occurred and I began to see this game anew, this time, with my adult eyes. I could still recognize the dynamics happening all around me, and I could sense the importance of these events to the students now experiencing them. These happenings were defining moments in their lives. Their characters were being built and their social awareness formed. But in retrospect, I know now that some of those students will always be high schoolers, their maturity never evolving beyond the "who's dating who" and the the childish drama. Others however, will move on, just as I did, and recognize years later, that though the football games and the boy you had a killer crush on seemed like the end all be all, in actuality, those things were just a small parts of a much larger picture. The picture of who you are as defined by the decisions and sacrifices of self you make or don't make.
Some of the wounds you suffer in high school might never heal fully, but you'll learn from them, and hopefully, when you do one day go back and visit high school again, you'll be enough changed to realize you were always on the right track, even if it didn't feel like it at the time. And you know what, I think my track is moving along just fine.
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