I was talking with a teacher friend of mine about graduation and I began to reminisce about my own graduation back in 1983. Which led to many memories of my strange senior year. I can't or won't go into details about everything that happened in those few short months, but there are two stories I would like to share with you today.
The first I will share because it is deliciously ironic (that is the term I coined today). It's not laugh out-loud funny, but it is blog worthy. The second story I have thrown into conversations from time to time, but every time I do, the listener's eyes glaze over. I can tell they are trying to decide whether to file it under B is for Bullshit or P is for Pathological Liar. They nod and smile, but usually don't make eye contact until the conversation changes. So I'm going to stir in the details today, just so you'll know its true. Not that you could fact check it, I did a pretty good job of erasing myself from high school.
First though, I have to digress and tell you a little bit about gay culture. Just like other subcultures within the American landscape, gay culture has its own set of rules and idiosyncrasies hidden from straights. I don't think I subscribe to these traits as much as some, but believe me, I can become a queen in a minute in the right setting. A lot of gay culture today mirrors the sassy black woman. We snap three times with our fingers while making an imaginary Z in the air. We say things like, "Talk to the hand", or "Girlfriend don't wanna go there."
But this is relatively new. At an earlier time, when being in the closet was the norm, there were secret codes and phrases that were hard to decipher for straight people. I have no idea why, but one of those phrases was the name Mary. Its not something young people say today, but you'll often hear an older gay male say things like, "Mary, make me another cocktail", or "Oh Mary, that dress looks fabulous on you!" or even "Hold your horses, Mary. Let me get my pants off".
That is the set-up. Now we have to go back to 1982-1983 for my senior year of high school.
As I've stated before, I had the unlucky experience of attending 13 schools in just 12 years. It was difficult, but because friends were hard to get or to keep, I spent a lot of time with my books. Somehow during high school I found myself in the drama club, and pursued that one hobby through all four years.
At the beginning of my senior year in Texas, I got myself into a little trouble with my mother, and found myself unceremoniously shipped to live with my very religious father in Hampton, Virginia. My new life now included church on Wednesdays and twice on Sundays, as well as bible readings at home, prayer before meals and Friday night youth group.
If you've ever driven down Todds Lane in Hampton, you know how many churches are competing for your soul. Back in the 80s, there was a Baptist church near Big Bethel that had a huge Easter show, complete with donkeys in the aisles and a guy tied to a cross that lifted up over the audience. Not to be outdone, my church, Bethel Temple Assemblies of God, decided to hold an Easter extravaganza musical cantata. With my drama experience, my father pushed me to the front of the volunteers to star in the production. The problem was I couldn't sing, and I had big silver braces on my teeth.
Lord, I should have been granted a reprieve. Oh no. I was cast in THE STARRING ROLE as Jesus Christ himself. I didn't have to sing or even speak. I just moved about the stage with a forgiving and loving look on my face. Arms outstretched to whomever believe-ith in me.
Wait. Did I say I had no lines? I did indeed have one line. After the burial and resurrection (no flying cross for me, the church wasn't designed for that)...after the burial and resurrection, while Mary Magdalene looked for my body, I appeared on a hilltop, stretched out my arms and beseeched, "OHHHH MARY!" She then broke into song and dance, accompanied by the other joyous disciples.
Thinking back on it now, it just seems too funny. It wasn't even my mother, the Virgin Mary. No it had to be the prostitute Mary. Ironic, no?
Moving on, did I mention I studied a lot? Did I mention drama club? Well, when I arrived in Hampton in late October 1982, the school was very welcoming. I was immediately enrolled in all sorts of clubs, such as drama, Key Club, science, Honor Society, etc. A friend of my father gave me a part time job at the Boys and Girls Club of America. Plus youth group that I mentioned before.
Sometime in late March or early April, I was sitting in class. I'll never forget: 4th period with Mrs. Bicouvaris, the government teacher. I was suddenly called to the guidance counselor's office. I was very nervous, but I was not prepared for what I was told. Because of my SAT scores, because of my outstanding academic performance, because of my contributions to the school clubs, because of my church attendance and because of my work with local children...I was named Valedictorian for the 1983 graduating class.
In Texas I had held steadily in 8th place for that honor. I had not turned in an important paper in my freshman year, and I had a B in freshman English. There were 7 students with straight A's at my school in Texas. In Virginia though, my grades propelled me to the top of the class. Imagine that.
Also sharing that 4th period government class was a girl named Kendra Lindsey. After I returned to class, she was called to the counselor's office. She returned sobbing heavily, grabbed her things and left for the day. You see, Kendra had been the hands-down leader of the pack since middle school. And I had just dethroned her. And even though she and I were the only two with office appointments, by the end of the day, every single person in that school knew the situation.
It was honestly a horrible moment for me. The church and clubs and work with young people were all things I was thrust into... I had volunteered for nothing. I felt like such a fraud, and an evil fraud at that. I stated loudly and clearly that I would not graduate from that school.
And despite all the hopes of my father (he wanted me to go to seminary), I fled Hampton, Virginia and spent the last six weeks of my senior year with my "friends" in Texas. There were many other factors happening at the time, including the realization I had no friends at that school. My heart had taken me back where I had already been forgotten. Suffice it to say, I failed my classes in those last few weeks. Combined with my grades from Virginia, I squeaked out as number 28 out of over 500 students. Magna Cum Laude.
I take a little more pride in the achievement in retrospect, that is why I drop it in conversation from time to time. So the next time I say, "I was valedictorian of my high school class", please don't roll your eyes. And don't laugh when I tell you I was Jesus.
Stories finished for today. Go make me a cocktail, Mary.
The first I will share because it is deliciously ironic (that is the term I coined today). It's not laugh out-loud funny, but it is blog worthy. The second story I have thrown into conversations from time to time, but every time I do, the listener's eyes glaze over. I can tell they are trying to decide whether to file it under B is for Bullshit or P is for Pathological Liar. They nod and smile, but usually don't make eye contact until the conversation changes. So I'm going to stir in the details today, just so you'll know its true. Not that you could fact check it, I did a pretty good job of erasing myself from high school.
First though, I have to digress and tell you a little bit about gay culture. Just like other subcultures within the American landscape, gay culture has its own set of rules and idiosyncrasies hidden from straights. I don't think I subscribe to these traits as much as some, but believe me, I can become a queen in a minute in the right setting. A lot of gay culture today mirrors the sassy black woman. We snap three times with our fingers while making an imaginary Z in the air. We say things like, "Talk to the hand", or "Girlfriend don't wanna go there."
But this is relatively new. At an earlier time, when being in the closet was the norm, there were secret codes and phrases that were hard to decipher for straight people. I have no idea why, but one of those phrases was the name Mary. Its not something young people say today, but you'll often hear an older gay male say things like, "Mary, make me another cocktail", or "Oh Mary, that dress looks fabulous on you!" or even "Hold your horses, Mary. Let me get my pants off".
That is the set-up. Now we have to go back to 1982-1983 for my senior year of high school.
As I've stated before, I had the unlucky experience of attending 13 schools in just 12 years. It was difficult, but because friends were hard to get or to keep, I spent a lot of time with my books. Somehow during high school I found myself in the drama club, and pursued that one hobby through all four years.
At the beginning of my senior year in Texas, I got myself into a little trouble with my mother, and found myself unceremoniously shipped to live with my very religious father in Hampton, Virginia. My new life now included church on Wednesdays and twice on Sundays, as well as bible readings at home, prayer before meals and Friday night youth group.
If you've ever driven down Todds Lane in Hampton, you know how many churches are competing for your soul. Back in the 80s, there was a Baptist church near Big Bethel that had a huge Easter show, complete with donkeys in the aisles and a guy tied to a cross that lifted up over the audience. Not to be outdone, my church, Bethel Temple Assemblies of God, decided to hold an Easter extravaganza musical cantata. With my drama experience, my father pushed me to the front of the volunteers to star in the production. The problem was I couldn't sing, and I had big silver braces on my teeth.
Lord, I should have been granted a reprieve. Oh no. I was cast in THE STARRING ROLE as Jesus Christ himself. I didn't have to sing or even speak. I just moved about the stage with a forgiving and loving look on my face. Arms outstretched to whomever believe-ith in me.
Wait. Did I say I had no lines? I did indeed have one line. After the burial and resurrection (no flying cross for me, the church wasn't designed for that)...after the burial and resurrection, while Mary Magdalene looked for my body, I appeared on a hilltop, stretched out my arms and beseeched, "OHHHH MARY!" She then broke into song and dance, accompanied by the other joyous disciples.
Thinking back on it now, it just seems too funny. It wasn't even my mother, the Virgin Mary. No it had to be the prostitute Mary. Ironic, no?
Moving on, did I mention I studied a lot? Did I mention drama club? Well, when I arrived in Hampton in late October 1982, the school was very welcoming. I was immediately enrolled in all sorts of clubs, such as drama, Key Club, science, Honor Society, etc. A friend of my father gave me a part time job at the Boys and Girls Club of America. Plus youth group that I mentioned before.
Sometime in late March or early April, I was sitting in class. I'll never forget: 4th period with Mrs. Bicouvaris, the government teacher. I was suddenly called to the guidance counselor's office. I was very nervous, but I was not prepared for what I was told. Because of my SAT scores, because of my outstanding academic performance, because of my contributions to the school clubs, because of my church attendance and because of my work with local children...I was named Valedictorian for the 1983 graduating class.
In Texas I had held steadily in 8th place for that honor. I had not turned in an important paper in my freshman year, and I had a B in freshman English. There were 7 students with straight A's at my school in Texas. In Virginia though, my grades propelled me to the top of the class. Imagine that.
Also sharing that 4th period government class was a girl named Kendra Lindsey. After I returned to class, she was called to the counselor's office. She returned sobbing heavily, grabbed her things and left for the day. You see, Kendra had been the hands-down leader of the pack since middle school. And I had just dethroned her. And even though she and I were the only two with office appointments, by the end of the day, every single person in that school knew the situation.
It was honestly a horrible moment for me. The church and clubs and work with young people were all things I was thrust into... I had volunteered for nothing. I felt like such a fraud, and an evil fraud at that. I stated loudly and clearly that I would not graduate from that school.
And despite all the hopes of my father (he wanted me to go to seminary), I fled Hampton, Virginia and spent the last six weeks of my senior year with my "friends" in Texas. There were many other factors happening at the time, including the realization I had no friends at that school. My heart had taken me back where I had already been forgotten. Suffice it to say, I failed my classes in those last few weeks. Combined with my grades from Virginia, I squeaked out as number 28 out of over 500 students. Magna Cum Laude.
I take a little more pride in the achievement in retrospect, that is why I drop it in conversation from time to time. So the next time I say, "I was valedictorian of my high school class", please don't roll your eyes. And don't laugh when I tell you I was Jesus.
Stories finished for today. Go make me a cocktail, Mary.
