Class of 2015

We walked into the gym and it was filled with 387 wide-eyed 14 year-olds and their nervous parents (ourselves included).   The jazz band was playing, club tables were set up with candy jars and informational flyers galore, administrators were seated on risers ready to address the group about the evening ahead of us.   Balloons were everywhere; cheerleaders were teaching the class cheer, and even the hip hop club was on the gym floor doing their “thang”.  It was an amazing, welcoming atmosphere to say the least.

When we finally settled into our seats, the principal gave his welcome speech and asked for a round of applause for the class of 2015.  That’s when the tears came creeping into my eyes.  I did everything I could do not to sniff.  I didn’t want to embarrass my soon to be freshman sitting to my right and didn’t want the other moms around me to know how much I was struggling with all this.  He smiled and some of the nervousness began to subside. 

We spent the rest of the evening going to our three different sessions; clubs and activities, curriculum, and the final stage of registration.  We walked the halls to the pool and racquet ball courts, checked out the lockers, talked to the French teacher and the TAG coordinator, signed up for baseball and put his name on the Key Club list and watched the video clips from the drama department. 

The announcement came to switch to the final rotation and it was his turn to register for his classes for the full year.  Biology, Geometry, Health, French II, Theatre/Drama, Civics and Freshman Literature were included in his list.  He circled the course numbers and then headed up to the stage of the auditorium to turn in his form.  He wondered if he looked old enough to be in high school and we assured him he did (even though as I looked at him all I could see was his two year-old chubby baby cheeks and his never ending eyelashes).

It was official.   He was now officially registered for high school and was soon to be part of the class of 2015.  He took his purple ticket up the stairs and turned it in for a RHS tote bag, class t-shirt and a Rams water bottle.  “We’re done?” he asked.  “That wasn’t so bad,” he said.  And, it wasn’t so bad.  It was good actually.  His nervousness was gone and that feeling had been replaced by a bit of relief and a tad of excitement and a small skip in his step as we walked out the front doors into the cold night.

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FEBRUARY VOCAB CHALLENGE 101

Day 6

caitiff:  (noun) A cowardly and despicable person.