Now and Then

I received a peculiar flyer in the mail last week. It was for an educational advancement association, an organization that 
I had never heard of. I did not recognize the name of the association on the flyer; I had no idea why they were contacting me. Upon further research, I discovered it was the alumni association of the township I went to school in. Darn it, they found me, I thought to myself.

As I began to read the flyer from my school, I thought I was being invited to a reunion, a special concert performance, or being informed about changes going on in the school. I have not received any mailings or informative pamphlets about the school, about class reunions, or anything whatsoever since I graduated over twenty-five years ago. Yet, as I read the flyer,

I quickly learned that it was a solicitation for a monetary donation to the school.

Receiving the flyer made me begin to think about high school. My school was a behemoth. There were over 4,000 students in the school, with about 1,000 students in each class. When I graduated, the ceremony was held at the largest venue in the city, a stadium. There were 10,000 people at my graduation ceremony, not including the 1,000 of us graduating.

I then began to think about my time in the school. School was a horrible time for me; that is, until I found my niche in the performing arts department. It was a supportive environment, which nurtured students and their unique talents. I found many kindred spirits in the students in the performing arts department. The students and I had many goals in common: performing, studying the history of music, perfecting my skills, growing as an artist.

A flood of memories came rushing back to me. I remembered my years the performing arts department, and the friends 
I had back then. I remembered the girls who were my friends in various choirs, the boy who played the lead role in every musical production, the mean girls, the popular kids, the band kids, the orchestra kids, my teachers, vocal instructors, choir directors, and more. 

The performing arts department was a very special place to me. It was the one place where I could be myself. I fit in socially. I sang in different choirs in the school, sang by myself in solo pieces. I took vocal lessons, learned the piano and flute, and was able to express myself through my talents.

I then began to reflect on the person I was then back in high school. I was a child then. Not an adult, but yet a woman. Really, I was an insecure young girl. I was riddled with anxiety. I felt I could not be myself. I felt I had to change my opinions to suit the friends around me. To be liked by my peers was more important to me than being myself.

In my senior year of high school, in the last semester, I was very ill. I missed a few months of school due to an illness that my doctors struggled to diagnose. Eventually the doctors diagnosed the cause of my illness, and I had surgery to correct it. Because I was out of school for so long, I lost touch with my friends and classmates.

When I eventually went back to school it was on a much shorter schedule. I went in to school an hour late, and left an hour early. Because I had a new schedule, and was then in new classes, I did not have any classes in common with any of my friends anymore. 

The time of the Senior Prom rolled around in the spring, and then graduation. After graduation, I did not pursue looking for any of my classmates or friends. It was a matter of weeks before I went off to college in a small city, several hours from my home. As happens every year, my classmates and I went in completely different directions. Now there is social media to help students stay in touch with one another, as well as texting, video chatting, etc. That would have helped me back then, I’m sure.

When I think person I was back in high school, I almost do not recognize myself. I do not know that any of my friends back then would recognize me either. I am nothing like I used to be. I am not the same person I was twenty-five years ago. In fact, I am not the same person I was six years ago.

The person I am now, I have thoughts and opinions, and I feel free to share them. If someone does not like my views or opinions, I do not try to convince them that they are wrong and I am right. There are no rights or wrongs in those moments; I simply agree to disagree. I will not change my opinions or beliefs to fit in with my friends. My friends love me for me, for who I really am, for all that I am.

I remember a song that was popular in my early college days, “Am I the Same Girl” by the group Swing Out Sister. It is a catchy song with an upbeat rhythm. In the chorus of the song, the lyrics say, “Am I the same girl? Yes I am. Yes I am.” In hearing that song in recent years, I sing along, substituting my own lyrics, “Am I the same girl? No I’m not. No I’m not.”

I am not the person I once was. In fact, I would wager that none of us are. It is impractical to think that people do not change. People do change. We grow as a person through various learning experiences. Our souls evolve into who we are destined to be.

This time of reflection has been an interesting one. While I am not in touch with any of my friends from that time, 
I wouldn’t mind going to a reunion, reconnecting with some of my former friends, and reminiscing.

I am reminded of another song, “The Kid Inside,” recorded by Barry Manilow, written by Craig Carnelia. The song is about thinking about the past, reminiscing, thinking of the person we used to be, the person we have become. I have posted a video below of Barry Manilow performing this song. The lyrics to the song are below.

It is a wonderful thing to sit and ponder, to think about what you have gone through, to think about the learning experiences you have had, to think about how you have grown, to think about what you have survived, to think about the person you were, and who you are, now and then.

The Kid Inside by Craig Carnelia

There’s a kid inside and I have him with me always

There’s a kid inside walking down old high school hallways

There’s a kid inside, at a desk, at a dance, in the halls, in the showers

There’s a kid inside to this very day

And he makes a try for the high pop fly that I fumbled one September

And he makes a fuss over some A plus that I shouldn’t still remember

And he goes along getting hurt, getting mad, fighting fights that are over

And unless I’m strong, all my senses are carried away

I can feel my hand, my trembling hand, on Michelle’s angora sweater

I can hear my band, that awful band, only now it sounds much better

I can see the kid, the kid I used to be

    on the stage, on the field, on the lunch line

I can feel him tugging at me

Every time I think I don’t care I blink

And he’s there again, he’s there again

Fighting ancient wrongs, humming old hit songs in my head

Singing “Come along, come along, come along for the ride”

To a time and place I could not forget if I tried

And I never know when a breeze will blow with a rush of old sensations

Why the kid should wake and my heart should ache every time I smell carnations

Something rings a bell, anything at all

All it takes is the slam of a locker

Or the switch from summer to fall

A change of season seems barely reason

But there he goes, he’s there again

Fighting ancient wrongs, humming old hit songs in my head

Singing “Come along, come along, come along for the ride”

To a time and place I could not forget if I tried

There he goes again, 
humming his songs....

he’s there again,

there’s a kid inside

Me, then-singing and dancing in a skit called “Fly by Night”

Playing the role of a lamp-complete with a lamp shade on my head

1989

Me now-2010s