THE ALTERNATIVE JUNIOR HIGH EXPERIENCE

PHOTO BADLY REPRODUCED FROM YEARBOOK
THE CLASS WAS "HERSTORY" AS A REPLACEMENT TO 'HISTORY"

`````September has always been like New Years for me; it's the true start of the new year and therefore of new possibilities. That's the time to reinvent yourself, start diets, get those lists going. I guess it goes back to the days of school. September was when we returned. With it, as with New Years, came the chance of starting afresh. Over the summer, a person could have lost weight or gotten their hair done differently. You could have bought totally new and radical clothing. At that age, you could even have decided to start to hang with a totally different crowd. The bland face of suburbia had yet to afix itself and the rolls that we had to play in life had not yet been adopted. We could still shrug them on and off easily.

`````I was always lucky in that I had good teachers early on that got me interested in school. That can make such a huge difference. I remember that I revered the woman who was my first teacher, the wonderful Mrs. Kennedy; how I was lucky to have her for my first two years of elementary school. She was a truly caring and compassionate woman and I embraced learning because of her. I compare that to the guy my brother had. All he did was have the kids run around outside.

`````I later had a teacher, again for two years, who taught me the power of independant thought. She was the first instructor who afixed "Ms" in front of her name, and she made me realize that being a girl wasn't a handicap or an excuse. It came with responsibilities. She taught the entire class how to play chess. Thanks to her, our class had the revolutionary idea to say "no" to the usual sex education concept that the girls and boys were shown a film seperately about the facts of life and birth control. We demanded that we share the experience; after all, we weren't any different. She agreed and it was the first time it was done. But, we had to be democratic about it and it had to go to a vote. It was pretty well unanninmous.

`````I know that things have changed now. When we fell as kids, the teacher would come over and give you a hug. Thanks to the odd bad instructor and a few hysterical parents, teachers, even if they want to, are afraid to reach over and reassure you. Some kids might come from bad homes and that adult was the only person who cared. Now, they are being denied that. It's too bad. I understand that they have to protect themselves from false accusations, but it's the kids that are missing out.

`````Junior high offered an experiment; the alternative educational experience. It ran on a semester system with the opportunity to select courses. Thus, I found myself picking classes such as literature, film, spelling. One of my classes was "Herstory", as opposed to "History." Yes, that's us in our outfits for class. I actually worked hard for it. I kept a diary, which I had to make up but which had to be based on the reality of the times, on a female pioneer. I recall doing a research project into the life of Louisa May Alcott. I sewed the dress and hat that I am wearing in the photo from scratch (I am the blond in the front row, third from the right). I knew that I was shy, so I forced myself to take a class in debate to get myself up in front of the class to speak. To this day, I still pull the names out of my memory bank on some poem by Margaret Atwood from literature class or some director from film. I must have picked up something in my Grammar class, as my friend didn't complain too much about the proofing that I did for him. My French teacher was amazing; she'd bring her toilet paper collection to class, which featured the worst toilet paper squares in the world to show us how spoiled North Americans were. She taught us the curse words that we really shouldn't know. She took us downtown to a fancy restaurant at the top of a glass elevator. We loved her for it. Years later, when I heard that this wonderful woman who adored kids had had a miscarriage, I grieved for her.

`````Every September, I think of how lucky I was to have encountered so many dedicated people and I think that I should thank them somehow. They don't get paid enough. They are never forgotten by me; I hope they know that. A part of them is always there and I still love to learn.