So, tonight, I am going to my 25th high school reunion.  Isn’t that crazy?  I’m excited — I just wish my suitcase would pack itself and that I could somehow be teleported there.  I’m only going 140 miles away from here, but, having been awake for an hour and a half already, I feel like I might run out of steam by 8:00 pm, when the festivities begin.  Never mind that since school began mid-August, 8:30-9:00 has kind of become my regular bedtime.

Nothing says “25 years out of high school” like having an early bird dinner and sacking out before prime time television has signed off for the night.

Speaking of.

Remember, when I was a kid, the television stations (all 3 of them) actually DID sign off around midnight.  I cannot remember, was that when they played the national anthem or was it at 5:00 am the next day when they signed back on that I heard the song and saw the video image of the flag waving?  Likely, it was the morning, because even back then, seldom was the night that I was anywhere near awake at midnight.

Full circle.  Is that what that’s called?

I am not sure how many of my close lifelong friends will be able to make the reunion this weekend, but I am still excited about seeing all my classmates.  I was just telling a few of the folks that I have been working with this past week about getting ready for my reunion and how much I loved my graduating class and what a unique experience we had.  We were alone as a class when we were in 7th grade — were we alone as a class in 8th grade, or were the 7th graders at Marshall Junior High with us?   Then, my favorite was that we were alone as a class in 9th grade at Pemberton High School.  THAT was a blessing, to not have to be goofy freshmen in a sea of upperclassmen at the high school!  I have always felt like, even though we were a 5A high school with a graduating class of nearly 500 students, I really and truly felt like I had met each person in my class at least once!  And, for my part, I didn’t really feel like I made any enemies.

One of my 6th grade students this past week looked up at me in the middle of our conversation and said, “When you were little, did you ever feel like anybody just hated you?”

I knew he was talking about his father in his own case, but I had to take a moment to consider that question.  I did finally tell him that there were a few girls at one point that I was fairly certain could have cared less if I remained on the earth, but other than that, I really could not relate.  But my heart still hurt for him.

I work in a school district where there are well over 30,000 students PK-12, and I find myself wondering how many of them will be 43 years old one day, still able to say that they have maintained friendships for 38+ years with anyone.  There is so much transience in their lives, and so many of them seem so detached and disconnected, not having learned how to know themselves, much less trust someone else enough to truly know them.

In reflection, I know that my strongest relationships, the most enduring, have been that way because of activities and experiences that we had in addition to school itself — Camp Fire Girls, church youth groups, common extracurricular activities, and just plain sharing the same values.  I so wish all those kinds of positive experiences for the kids I see everyday.

In the middle of church service a few weeks ago, I was struck by the idea of creating some kind of mentoring network throughout the area, perhaps akin to Big Brothers/Big Sisters, where I could go out into the community and seek the participation of local adults with hearts for children, especially the most at-risk ones, who might be willing to commit to sharing some of their experiences, talents, and wisdom with children who are lacking positive adult role models in their own lives.  Shouldn’t that be fairly easy?  Local churches, service organizations, university students, business leaders, and just plain folks.

There are so many rites of passage that seem so natural for so many of us, yet there are thousands of children whose lives literally consist solely of going to school, going home, playing video games or watching television, maybe going to bed, and waking up the next day to repeat ad infinitum.  I have spent some time recently with a child who sits and plays “Scarface” all morning while waiting for the schoolbus.  Huh?

Back to the reunion.  It should be a big time — my classmates who dedicate themselves to the planning and execution of it have always done an incredible job making ours fun, affordable, and down-to-earth.  And that is a wonderful gift!