Wondering How to Have a Happy 50th Class Reunion?
Happy 50th Class Reunion the invitation read. Taken aback, I immediately began counting the years. Gulp. Yes, fifty years, which passed in a blur, now taunted me in that invitation. My brother, who attended a couple of his own, thought I should immediately accept. That was one of us.
You see, in school, I ranked as a wallflower’s wallflower who barely had the courage to say good morning to friends, let alone the popular crowd or the occasional teacher who treated the unpopular as just that – unpopular. Did I really want to attend, sit back in a corner, nibble on chips and sip soda? Did I want to hear the sometime hurtful things the popular girls said about those they consider less than themselves?
A Computer Post Astounds
A new friend invited me to join his site, which I happily did as it gave seniors a place to talk. One major, very long rule makes being their a delight. The Rule: No politics, no nastiness, no anger, no treating anyone the way you do not wish to be treated. Sort of “Love Thy Neighbor As Thyself.” Sound familiar? And it works.
Today he asked the question, “Have you ever attended a class reunion and what did you learn?” The answers fascinated me as few have. In fact, I learned so much more from the answers than I did from my own reunion. A surprising number of my fellow wallflowers wrote in. Either they confessed to being painfully shy and happily, having gotten over it as they matured, or the anger at the ‘popular’ kids of long ago still reigned in their lives. Some bullied through and discovered things changed. Others refused to attend citing the whole thing as a waste of time and money. Still others discovered they fell back into their old personalities and hated being at the reunion.
Maturing Senior
Count this as a play on words, since we are all maturing, although many do so in body while their childish ways continue. However, this maturing senior is one who went out into the world, and although it might have been a battle, moved out of their shyness and into a person able to hold his/her own. Generally, this type wrote they thoroughly enjoyed the reunion. Some confessed to feeling a bit of the old shyness trying to take over. Those same people fought it back, determined to have a great time that one evening in a lifetime. They ended their posts with “We had a blast!” or “What a great time we had!” or something to similar effect.
Unyielding Senior
The Unyielding Senior never forgave or forgot being miserable in school and invariably blamed others. Whether another shy person or one who others saw as ‘odd’ or one who got in trouble at the drop of a hat, none of these wanted to hold themselves responsible. They came across as bitter and unyielding. Most often they saw the reunion as just another time to be mistreated by former classmates. They sought no forgiveness and had no intention of handing it out.
Lonely Senior
These seniors held onto their shyness, their refusal to interact with others. Many excuses meandered throughout their posts. However, what I read, not written out, but between the lines, was a continuing loneliness separating them not just from former classmates, but the world. They seemed to be those who had little contact with people outside their own immediate families. They kept to themselves and expected that no one would take the time to begin a friendship. Lonely Seniors sounded sad, as though struggling all their lives to have meaning in their days.
What This Senior Learned
After reading the posts, right or wrong, I exulted in the outcome of my own reunion. I dressed with care, before wondering why I spent all that time to impress people I had not seen since leaving the area fifty years prior. After graduation, I moved to Washington, D.C. to work for the F.B.I and never looked back. During those years, I worked to overcome the debilitating shyness. Fortunately, I married a man who helped me every step of the way. I moved from receptionist to management throughout my career. Speaking, whether to upper management, giving employee orientations, or publicly, became one of my strengths.
Another precious talent that assisted in every move I made was that of writing. Whether I wrote pamphlets, letters for those in positions higher than mine, company regulations, or my own creative writing in fiction, each item pushed the horrible shyness further and further behind. I not only learned to write and speak well, but strove to dress, and carry myself with a professional air. Yet, after all these years, my stomach actually quivered at the thought of meeting people I last knew as kids reaching for adulthood.
When the Shaking Stopped
Briskly, I gave myself a talking to and when the shaking stopped, the new Maggie stepped forward to open the door. Another hand reached from behind me and clasped the door handle, pulling it open. I turned to find a friend from years gone by. Like me, he aged, but his eyes still twinkled when he smiled, his voice held that welcome I remembered from our school days and his smile backed it up. We walked in together, but quickly separated. I walked up to two women who looked familiar and immediately we became engrossed, not only in memories, but in where we were today and all the important people, places and things in our lives.
Throughout the evening , I met more old friends, made new ones with some of those previously on the popular, but mean girls list. They turned out to be not so mean and a couple of them even apologized for being school brats to others.
Whether it was the conversation I had with myself before taking the plunge into the reunion, or meeting the friendly face of an old classmate or self-determination to enjoy the evening, the whole reunion went so well, that when we met again a couple of years later, I could barely contain the excitement. To make the most of your reunion, try this site to be prepared.
Epilogue
That reunion set the whole scene for how life back in my hometown unfolded. Far too many former classmates no longer lived among us. Some died in war, others from illness and some simply live so far away they find it impossible to attend the reunions. Those who remain have often done a 180 degree turn from the people I knew in my teens, but most of us decided to live our lives the way we want them to be instead of doing nothing to realize our dreams. I find myself surrounded by friends, old and new, and cannot wait until that invitation for the next reunion hits my mailbox. How about you? Ready to attend?