“Sing a Song of Hon-” Can you please repeat that?

“Sing a Song of Hon-” Can you please repeat that?

I’m sure that most students, note that I say most, are expecting to go to their graduation ceremony with their heads held high and planning on walking up on that stage and shaking the hand of the principle and receiving their diploma. We expect it to include a moment where we all throw out caps in the air and laugh about finishing in a school that took out a good portion of the students.

Yet, even after getting close to graduation, I don’t really want to go any more. Not only because some people took it upon themselves and decided to change OUR without consulting anyone outside their “clique,” but because it isn’t going to be fun any more.

Half the people I know, don’t feel like going to the ceremony because they believe that it isn’t special at all. It is indeed mainly for those “Ivy League” students, but who cares? We all knew it was going to happen. And the fact that our tickets, which should have been four, has been changed to three and at an almost last minute decision really dampers my plan on bringing my grandparents also.

And why did we change OUR alma mater to a different tune and changed a bit of the lyrics? What happened to the sincerity of at least asking your class if you wouldn’t mind changing it? What happened to the original alma mater written by Mrs. Anne McIver, the original vocal music teacher? Is it because some new guy comes in and turns the choir into a barely audible, not understandable, and a crappy dance crew says he wants to change it? Or is it because a few students believe its their right to change the alma mater that has been in our school since it was founded because they didn’t like it themselves?

And shouldn’t they have noticed that if it was truly okay with the class, wouldn’t we have appreciated it and sang along? But we didn’t we argued the fact until Ms. Short stepped in and acted like she was in charge. If I didn’t know better I thought Ms. Felton was the person who called the shots. And what is up with this bull shit about asking Mr. Slattery and Ms. Barone about changing th alma mater? Hell, none of the teachers knew they were changing it, why would our Principal and Vice Principal change the alma mater and not tell anyone?

(Said with Much Sarcasm) Of course why should I complain? It’s not like I’m important, right? Like those people who decided to change the song even though only a few people in their “clique” like it. It’s not like I’m part of this class and I have a say, nope, I’m just there to look good and fill up space like the other 100 students in the auditorium. Go right ahead, sorry for stepping on any toes. (End of Sarcasm)

Even though I’m pissed off as hell, I will still probably go to the graduation ceremony just for my friends. Not because I want to walk across that stage or get that diploma, or because it’s what all seniors look forward to. It’s solely based on the fact that I’m doing it for my friends and family.

Still, I wish we didn’t have such an attitude of independence in our class, it just ruins the little amount of cohesiveness we have so far. And in actuality, I’m going to do my part and bitch and moan about it now. I wasn’t going to, but changing the alma mater of a teacher who helped me through these four years. I’m highly disappointed in my class.

Ms. McIver taught me to love music for what it is, to annunciate words, to put the music first before anything. She didn’t teach me to make the music pretty with dance moves or anything, she taught me to listen to the music, not dance to it all the time.

I don’t care what the majority of people think, only the certain few who could hold a candle up to my face and speak and argue their points cohesively with properly annunciated words.

- Jed

Just my two cents on the situation, since what I say doesn’t matter.

On Betrayal. (with additional side-rant on nonconformity)

This isn’t for a particular person. This is for an entire group of people. The people I thought were “real.” The people I thought could handle my flaws, could handle my strengths, could handle me having a bad day and a good one. The people I felt so ready to devote my time and effort to. The people that come to mind when I think of those “close” to me.

I don’t just feel disappointed. I feel betrayed on many levels.

I won’t get into details, because drama is not my ballgame. I’m more of a blunt, to-the-point-argument type of person. I will say, however, that the current situation I’m in annoys me in the sense that not only do I have utmost contempt for the behavior of these people, using their own personal suffering and my past mistakes to speak lowly of me and despise my recent gains, but the fact that these same people who grimace and whine behind closed doors have the audacity to grin and embrace me. Or at least some of them do. Some of them just don’t speak to me and pretend I don’t exist. Or that they didn’t hear me. I’m not sure which I hate more at this moment.

Considering our age, I was expecting a higher level of maturity with acceptance of things. While my flaws tend to eat away at my being, so do the flaws of others. I can’t say I’m handling my life perfectly, because I’m not, but I can say that it’s not wrong to hope for the same amount of respect for myself that I try to uphold for others

But at any rate, I dedicate this post to all of the not-so-perfect, I’ve-made-a-mistake, overly-forgiving, nonjudgmental, straight up people who have been lied to, blackmailed, back-stabbed, secretly hated, betrayed, abandoned, and otherwise had their friendship forgotten. To those who lost a friend, were fooled to think they had one, or never had one in the first place. The voices that sound ignorant, despite the amount reason they may hold in their hearts.

I may not deserve the acceptance that I seek, but I know many others do. To think that now I’m an unhappy nonconformist and freshman year I was one of the social butterflies is astonishing. I had friends in high places and low places alike. Now? I’m not so sure. I don’t have a crew, I don’t have a solid “best friend,” I don’t have the best grades in the school, I don’t even wear matching clothes. I’m too lazy to wear my contact lenses, I listen to Dr. Dre, Lupe Fiasco, Chiodos, and Marilyn Manson. I don’t even brush my hair some mornings. I was happy before, but with recent events, I start questioning my way of life. Like maybe the comfort of a “tribe” is what I need to cope with things, or maybe if I had the best grades ever I’d actually feel like I belong in this school, or maybe if I matched my clothes and tried improving on my appearance more often I’d actually have a decent conversation that would start BECAUSE of my outfit. But most importantly, maybe if I actually had the friends I thought I had, I’d be a better person.

However, I’m done chasing what-ifs. There is one year of high school left, and I still have a few people that still actually give a damn about me. Those are the only ones that really matter anyway. Because despite time, flaws, therapy, relapses, and the simple lack of classes together, I can still say I trust them with my life, past, present, and future. And yes, despite my angst and teenaged loneliness, I’ve never been luckier.

- Therese

The Best “Love in this Club” video ever.

wait til you see young jeezy. . .props

-julian