mango
Mustachio Nut
I just finished watching an '80's high school movie and it took my mind back to my high school years ('88 - '93).
Looking back now, I have afew regrets from those years. One which has always irked me and one which I only really thought of just now.
The one that has stayed with me through the years had to do with censorship and the fact that I didn't really make a stand.
It would have been Year 10 (10th grade) in my English class. We had a month to put together a 5-10 minute speech to give to the class as part of a public speaking competition. We could choose any topic. The teacher would mark us as part of our public speaking skills in English class.
The best speeches in the class would go on to be given again in a hall against the other classes in our year. And the winner of each year level would go on to be given at a school assembly with the best in each year level winning a prize as well as an overall prize. We did this every year in High School - although I think in the final year it was optional (I can't remember).
So in Year 10 (which would have been 1991 when I was about 15) I crafted this great speech. It was probably the best speech I wrote in high school. It was titled 'A Day In The Life of a Surfboard'. The whole speech was basically a running allegory loaded with many sexual-themed puns but using just normal languege.
It went along the lines of me being a surfboard... sitting in a surfboard rental store.. waiting to be chosen. And in comes this striking tanned surfer who looks me up and down & checks me out, puts his hands on me and fondles my fin. And it goes from there. With him putting on his little rubber suit in a practice of 'safe surf', mounting me on the beach and riding me out. I even slowly built up the whole thing into a climax with us together going up and down over the rolling waves.. up and down .. up and down... waiting for the right moment. And then that special wave comes and erects himself and starts surfing... ducking his head in and out of the breaking wave.. in and out .. in and out. Until finally he reaches the peak. He jumps clear and white bubbles splash everywhere! Anyway.. you get the jist of it there. The story ends with him dumping me back at the store and me longing for one more ride.
I thought it was a great speech. My family thought it was good too. It was contemporary, had a unique Australian charm and although at that time I was yet to experience either riding a wave on a surfboard or the joys of sex, I had a fair idea what they were about from what I had seen on TV (watching surfing and my older brother's assorted vintage porn). More importantly looking back now, I see that although it was a short speech, it had themes of relationships, innuendo, attraction, sex and ultimately rejection.
So there I am, in front of the class giving my Day in the Life of a Surfboard speech... I'm just getting to the part where the surfer is putting on his little rubber suit and practicing 'safe surf' when my English teacher stops me. She stops me to say that she knows where this is going and its not appropriate for this age level. My face went red.. a tinge of embarrassment but more rage than anything else. How could she do that to me? She killed my delivery!
So at that point she asks to speak to me outside. And the class waits while I'm outside raising my voice in the hallway with this woman. She was one of the older teachers whose best years were clearly well behind her. While she was a skinny woman, she had these sagging wrinkly jowls that hung off the sides of her cheeks as well as this curly dark hair that wisped around her face. Our private nickname in the class for her was "mutton" (mutton being the tough meat of elderly sheep as opposed to young succulent lamb). So she's telling me that the content isn't appropriate. I say that there isn't a single swear word in my entire speech. Everyone in the class knows what sex is and in the event that there was someone that didn't, they'd just think it was a surfing story from a different perspective. She wouldn't have a bar of that argument, so she dragged me back into the class to tell me that I had one week to do a new speech for the class. I sat through the rest of that class feeling angry and frustrated.
I could've taken this issue of censorship to my level convenor (the teacher who manages our entire year level). He was a cool guy. I also could have gone to my English teacher from year 7 & 8. She was so cool, in her classes she'd let the odd expletive out in class if it was appropriate and also taught a different english class in my same year level. I regret not doing that. Instead I chose the easy way out and did nothing but prepare a second speech. Funnily enough, I came back the next week and gave a totally mundane speech about sheep - with everyone in the class except the teacher in on the in-joke of her nickname. Maybe I should've done that second speech on censorship and explained my side of the story.
While this may not have been a big deal to some people, the whole episode stifled my creativity and motivation for a while and probably began my feelings of Me vs Them against certain aspects of the school which I attended through to the end of my final year.
The second major regret only really just occured to me recently (I'm sure I have a couple more buried deep in my subconscious somewhere).
I was in year 11 (or the year before I finished high school) and I was a bowler in the second XI or "B team" for the school cricket team. While our school took pride of place in its academic achievements, its sports department really didn't have that much going for it. Training, equipment and facilities would have been laughed at by many of our surrounding schools.
The 'B team' or as I affectionately called it - the 'reject squad' composed mainly of all the guys that wanted to play a game of cricket... but couldn't. We had this ego-driven cocky coach who was pretty young for a sports teacher and he was also an ex-collegian. His instructions totally mystified me and his attitude made me wonder why he was even a teacher at all. Often I wouldn't accept his direction and occasionally I was dropped from the team.
So he had it in for me abit.
Anyway, during this time it came to light through inner circles that this Phys. Ed. teacher - who was probably about 27 or 28 at the time was shtupping a girl in my year (I went to a Co-Ed school). She would have been 17 at the most. Now I can't say for certain that they were actually shtupping, but knowing the promiscious nature and reputation of this girl who was a friend of mine, there was a more than fair chance that some hanky panky was going on.
Over here, we have laws about sex with minors. I think if you are a minor aged 16 or 17, you can only have sex with someone up to two years older than you. I think that's the law. Also there are laws regarding teachers getting intimate with students. Although in this case this teacher only taught boys so never would have been in the same class as this girl. The school also would have had codes of conduct which would have been breached here.
I could have done a number of things at the time. If I was a real bastard of a character, I could've blackmailed this teacher into letting me on the team or I'd dob him in. But something like that would've been totally out of character for me.
I also could have dropped an anonymous letter to the school management about the affair. Or I could have called the police to investigate it which would have put the school out in terms of possible adverse publicity.
Again I chose to do nothing. Another regret. I think I felt at the time that what this girl in my year did was her business and it wasn't right to interfere - even if it was anonymous and there was no way this teacher could come after me. I should've anonymously dobbed him into the school and let them deal with it internally. For the record. I don't think I played again for the cricket 'B team' simply because I hated the coach.
Oh man.. I didn't realise this was going to be a big essay. I was gonna post this in a blog on another board but I've decided to share it with everyone here.
Anyone else got some high school regrets they'd like to share?
Looking back now, I have afew regrets from those years. One which has always irked me and one which I only really thought of just now.
The one that has stayed with me through the years had to do with censorship and the fact that I didn't really make a stand.
It would have been Year 10 (10th grade) in my English class. We had a month to put together a 5-10 minute speech to give to the class as part of a public speaking competition. We could choose any topic. The teacher would mark us as part of our public speaking skills in English class.
The best speeches in the class would go on to be given again in a hall against the other classes in our year. And the winner of each year level would go on to be given at a school assembly with the best in each year level winning a prize as well as an overall prize. We did this every year in High School - although I think in the final year it was optional (I can't remember).
So in Year 10 (which would have been 1991 when I was about 15) I crafted this great speech. It was probably the best speech I wrote in high school. It was titled 'A Day In The Life of a Surfboard'. The whole speech was basically a running allegory loaded with many sexual-themed puns but using just normal languege.
It went along the lines of me being a surfboard... sitting in a surfboard rental store.. waiting to be chosen. And in comes this striking tanned surfer who looks me up and down & checks me out, puts his hands on me and fondles my fin. And it goes from there. With him putting on his little rubber suit in a practice of 'safe surf', mounting me on the beach and riding me out. I even slowly built up the whole thing into a climax with us together going up and down over the rolling waves.. up and down .. up and down... waiting for the right moment. And then that special wave comes and erects himself and starts surfing... ducking his head in and out of the breaking wave.. in and out .. in and out. Until finally he reaches the peak. He jumps clear and white bubbles splash everywhere! Anyway.. you get the jist of it there. The story ends with him dumping me back at the store and me longing for one more ride.
I thought it was a great speech. My family thought it was good too. It was contemporary, had a unique Australian charm and although at that time I was yet to experience either riding a wave on a surfboard or the joys of sex, I had a fair idea what they were about from what I had seen on TV (watching surfing and my older brother's assorted vintage porn). More importantly looking back now, I see that although it was a short speech, it had themes of relationships, innuendo, attraction, sex and ultimately rejection.
So there I am, in front of the class giving my Day in the Life of a Surfboard speech... I'm just getting to the part where the surfer is putting on his little rubber suit and practicing 'safe surf' when my English teacher stops me. She stops me to say that she knows where this is going and its not appropriate for this age level. My face went red.. a tinge of embarrassment but more rage than anything else. How could she do that to me? She killed my delivery!
So at that point she asks to speak to me outside. And the class waits while I'm outside raising my voice in the hallway with this woman. She was one of the older teachers whose best years were clearly well behind her. While she was a skinny woman, she had these sagging wrinkly jowls that hung off the sides of her cheeks as well as this curly dark hair that wisped around her face. Our private nickname in the class for her was "mutton" (mutton being the tough meat of elderly sheep as opposed to young succulent lamb). So she's telling me that the content isn't appropriate. I say that there isn't a single swear word in my entire speech. Everyone in the class knows what sex is and in the event that there was someone that didn't, they'd just think it was a surfing story from a different perspective. She wouldn't have a bar of that argument, so she dragged me back into the class to tell me that I had one week to do a new speech for the class. I sat through the rest of that class feeling angry and frustrated.
I could've taken this issue of censorship to my level convenor (the teacher who manages our entire year level). He was a cool guy. I also could have gone to my English teacher from year 7 & 8. She was so cool, in her classes she'd let the odd expletive out in class if it was appropriate and also taught a different english class in my same year level. I regret not doing that. Instead I chose the easy way out and did nothing but prepare a second speech. Funnily enough, I came back the next week and gave a totally mundane speech about sheep - with everyone in the class except the teacher in on the in-joke of her nickname. Maybe I should've done that second speech on censorship and explained my side of the story.
While this may not have been a big deal to some people, the whole episode stifled my creativity and motivation for a while and probably began my feelings of Me vs Them against certain aspects of the school which I attended through to the end of my final year.
The second major regret only really just occured to me recently (I'm sure I have a couple more buried deep in my subconscious somewhere).
I was in year 11 (or the year before I finished high school) and I was a bowler in the second XI or "B team" for the school cricket team. While our school took pride of place in its academic achievements, its sports department really didn't have that much going for it. Training, equipment and facilities would have been laughed at by many of our surrounding schools.
The 'B team' or as I affectionately called it - the 'reject squad' composed mainly of all the guys that wanted to play a game of cricket... but couldn't. We had this ego-driven cocky coach who was pretty young for a sports teacher and he was also an ex-collegian. His instructions totally mystified me and his attitude made me wonder why he was even a teacher at all. Often I wouldn't accept his direction and occasionally I was dropped from the team.
So he had it in for me abit.
Anyway, during this time it came to light through inner circles that this Phys. Ed. teacher - who was probably about 27 or 28 at the time was shtupping a girl in my year (I went to a Co-Ed school). She would have been 17 at the most. Now I can't say for certain that they were actually shtupping, but knowing the promiscious nature and reputation of this girl who was a friend of mine, there was a more than fair chance that some hanky panky was going on.
Over here, we have laws about sex with minors. I think if you are a minor aged 16 or 17, you can only have sex with someone up to two years older than you. I think that's the law. Also there are laws regarding teachers getting intimate with students. Although in this case this teacher only taught boys so never would have been in the same class as this girl. The school also would have had codes of conduct which would have been breached here.
I could have done a number of things at the time. If I was a real bastard of a character, I could've blackmailed this teacher into letting me on the team or I'd dob him in. But something like that would've been totally out of character for me.
I also could have dropped an anonymous letter to the school management about the affair. Or I could have called the police to investigate it which would have put the school out in terms of possible adverse publicity.
Again I chose to do nothing. Another regret. I think I felt at the time that what this girl in my year did was her business and it wasn't right to interfere - even if it was anonymous and there was no way this teacher could come after me. I should've anonymously dobbed him into the school and let them deal with it internally. For the record. I don't think I played again for the cricket 'B team' simply because I hated the coach.
Oh man.. I didn't realise this was going to be a big essay. I was gonna post this in a blog on another board but I've decided to share it with everyone here.
Anyone else got some high school regrets they'd like to share?
