I was not fond of High School and managed to leave after 11th grade by being an exchange student my senior year. (only course I had to take was English; I was told in Sweden I’d be given an A if I didn’t come to class and taint the proper English being taught!)

I was glad to be done with High School. I was tall, skinny, awkward, and mouthy. (I’m still many of those things! Praise be!) I had no idea who I was or what I wanted to do — besides of course fit in. And in that I was not alone. An entire class of kids, just wanting to fit in. Oh, how fragile we were.

I come from a small town. A lot of people left. A lot of people didn’t. There’s a lot we don’t have in common — including our memories. All that was filtered through our own particular set of demons.

But last night was our (how did this happen?) 45th reunion. There weren’t a lot of us, but there were some. And there was laughter and kindness. Tonight there will be more.

And all those times I felt insecure? These days I pretty much like who I am… and love what I do… and mostly I like the people I went to school with as mixed a bunch as we are. And the guy I might be thought to have the least in common with is someone I went to school with from K-12… and we just flat out like and enjoy one another.

There has to be a way to make growing up easier! Ways to help kids just be present to what is and to be kind to one another starting early. In the meantime, Peace on the high school years. And hurrah for people having lives, and lovingly, laughingly shaking our heads over yesteryear. Peace, now. And thanks for a nice evening.