Be Nice to the Little People

My hair was my attempt at fashion, cira 1985

1985 was a good year to graduate high school. I was slightly amazed I made it. On my first day at Maryvale High I was sure that I would never finish because 4 years was forever long and the world would surely end before I was done serving my high school sentence. Good thing I decided to hedge my bets and act like the world would carry on past the '80's.

During the first weeks of high school I attended a mandatory freshman class assembly that was supposed to get us excited about our next 4 years. The inspirational speaker told us that our years at Maryvale could be the best ever, if we chose to get involved and make our marks. I am a sucker for inspiration, so I decided to start off with a bang. I convinced my best friend, Stephanie Hauger that we should run for Freshman Class Presidency. I would be president and she would be vice president. We could be popular and involved from the very beginning, thereby guaranteeing we wouldn't "waste a moment of this precious time of your lives!" as the inspirational speaker exhorted.

Yeah...that didn't go so well. It turns out in a freshman class of over 800 students (Maryvale was an urban high school with over 3,000 students in total. Crazy big.) where kids came from at least 3 junior high schools, there was no way a freaky girl with weird hair, bad skin, a gap between her front teeth and thrift store clothes was going anywhere but straight to ridicule. My biggest regret about that disaster is that I dragged Stephanie along for a ride on the Public Humiliation Train. She had no interest in making her mark or being the center of attention.  She only agreed to the stupid campaign because she was my friend. Trust me, it never happened again.

Anyway, all that to say I started off my high school career off in a spectacular spectacle of shame. I learned to keep to my lowly station in the social order and didn't run for any popularity contests again. The people had spoken and they yelled quite loudly.

Everything was quiet on the "making my mark" front until the last weeks of school my senior year.
At the beginning of the school year, our class voted on the Senior Mosts. You know, like Most Likely to Succeed, Cutest Couple, etc. The voting happened well before fall holiday season because the winners pictures were going to be immortalized in our final yearbook and that had to be wrapped up so it could go to the printers. I felt a twinge of sadness when I not only wasn't a Senior Most, I wasn't even in the yearbook for anything besides being an inmate at the asylum. I hadn't made my mark. I hadn't made ANY mark. High school was another nothing experience in my life. That inspirational speaker my freshman year was full of crap. Graduation couldn't come soon enough for me.

I held those bitter thoughts until May 24, 1985. That was the day my attitude towards Maryvale High completely changed. I was reading the weekly school newspaper before English class when I saw it. I reread it at least 10 times before I reacted. How Could This Be?  I didn't know anything about it. No one told me it was even going on. Maryvale High was big enough that stuff was always going on that I didn't know about, but how did I miss this? I completely missed it. Right there, on page 3, I made my mark without even knowing about it.

The day never to be forgotten

It turns out the headline for this fabulousness isn't quite true. The Senior Mosts that were voted on in the fall, for the yearbook were tabulated from only seniors votes. I didn't have a chance in Hades of being in the yearbook because everyone in my class knew I was goober. But the Spring Senior Favorites were voted on from students in the whole school.  And that is where I made my mark.

Unlike other seniors, I was nice to the underclassmen. I didn't close doors in their faces, I didn't trip anyone and more importantly, I talked to them. I don't know if it was an organized thing by a few students or what, but the underclass students propelled me to my moment of greatness. I actually was voted Most Likely to be President! Can you believe it? Kelly Cantele certainly couldn't. She said to me, "I don't know how you won. I expected competition from Judy Milam because she is so smart and pretty, but not you." I nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. How could I be deserving of such attention? I was in only one honors class (unlike her), didn't hang out with the popular kids (unlike her) or drive a nice car (unlike her). I had nothing, except I had friends in the freshman, sophomore and junior classes.

That is the life lesson for you, my friend. Always, always, be nice to the little people. You never know when they will rise up and vote for you.