Back To School Night

September 17, 2014


Annual Back to School Night at Davis High School…. the night when you trace your kid’s schedule, sitting in each of his classes for a ten-minute period instead of the fifty that they endure. It’s brilliant, really; gives you a chance to meet each teacher, sit in desks in the actual classroom, make the real-life commute from class to class. I’m pretty sure we had nothing of the sort in my day.

Hard to be on a high school campus and not drift back to 1970-74. It’s also so odd to realize how crazily seminal those years were for as brief a moment in time they actually were.  Truly just a blip.

Tonight’s pre-BTSN activity was a barbeque dinner–very much an overstatement–put on by the government kids. Nothing remarkable about this, except the rock and roll music they played on the quad, which was all 60s and 70s music, which was like a bridge connecting points forty years apart. The government kids even danced and sang to the music as they served up hot dogs and chicken burgers.  Kinda tripy. I mean, I was already on nostalgia overload without the music…

Principal Will Brown’s speech, delivered to a full gym, was just like every pep rally ever yelled at. Go PVHS!… er, DHS. Whole thing designed to make us all feel great about our school. Same as it ever was.

Walking from class to class, it was amazing how many people Jim and I knew.. parents of Peter’s friends from so many phases of his life. We sat in an honors physics class with Syd and Rich who were in our child birth class.  I saw several moms from my earliest moms’ groups. And of course baseball parents, and parents from DPNS, Chavez and Holmes.  But it was also reminiscent of being in high school, walking around campus knowing people everywhere you looked, wanting to stop and talk, but instead rushing to class, trying to get there before the bell. (That is exactly what we did tonight… zigzagged across campus, entering rooms where nearly every desk was already taken–how did that happen? Tardy.)

Can’t say I miss any of that. But I did get twangs of inspiration as Peter’s American Lit teacher reviewed the books they’d be reading, or when his physics and spanish teachers excitedly (genuinely excitedly) shared plans for the year ahead (the physics teacher’s been doing this for nearly 30 years, the spanish guy is in his early twenties and started less than a year ago).  Peter likes all three of these teachers a lot. Three memorable ones, one okay, and one dud. Very grateful he’s got three out of five, at least.

I am sure there will be much that Peter will remember, even cherish, about this coming year. Weird to ponder that these years and the many experiences to come at DHS will lodge deeply and permanently into his little psyche. Certain they will. Because I found that when I blurred my vision around the edges, I experienced that very sense of time travel.

Have fun with that later, honey.

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