Tag Archives: High School

The Life And Exploits of A Freshman Girl

By: Clare

Freshman year of high school is a whirlwind of activity. I’m halfway through the school year already, and I almost can’t believe it. Everything seems to have gone so fast. It makes me wonder…..was it a whole semester ago when those two of my friends hated each other. Did my one friend really date him for a whole week? And most importantly….how have I put up with that one kid in my class this whole school year!? Ah, high school, your constant entertainment is ever so time filling.

My family is convinced that I am quite popular in my class. This is true, and I can almost tell you readers that with some pride. But the truth is , Cashton High School has about 150 students over all, tops, and my class about 38 kids in it. Wa-hoo. Colleen was really horrified when she found I was at the top of the social ladder in school. She had found popularity completely pointless, and had gone her own way, being completely cool and unique. I myself easily settled into the role of “the girl everyone likes”. This wasn’t a hard spot to fill, because I found that everyone liked me most when I acted…like myself. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not a mindless zombie who dresses, talks, and acts like every other girl in my grade. I still have my own distinct style, totally different than the monotonousness Aeropostale tee shirts and Silver jeans most other girls wear on a daily basis. I don’t have to throw a swear word in or two to express my anger, and I act however Clare Slattery normally acts.

But, now, Cashton High School holds a winter dance every January called Snoball. What a cool name! You can already tell it is a super hip party, right? Right? A-hem. Well, Snoball requires a Snoball court, which is made up of students who are voted onto it by their fellow students. The time had come to vote and I found, to my extreme surprise, that votes were really flowing in for the freshman class that had MY name on it. Me? Oh. Oh, well, wow. Except that freshman girls are silly, and they are the only little naive creatures who will actually take this vote seriously. In other words, all of the other high school students voted for the most special ed kid in their class. All of the freshman boys actually voted for the girl in my class who….well….it takes you a while to realize that she is, in fact, a girl and NOT a boy. So many boys voted for her that a tie-breaker actually had to be held between her and I, which I did end up winning. And, so, I was catapulted onto the most special ed high school court ever, making it look as if I had been another pity vote too. Greeeat.

The thing was, though, only girls were voted onto court, meaning I had to choose a boy from my class to go with me to this dance. “Oh, gosh”, I thought as I approached the boy I was about to ask, “I’m never gonna live this down with my family”. And I was right. I was oh so very right. My brothers will never let me forget this boy.

Excuse my demonic look in this picture. And that I am staring intensely at something far away from the camera pointed at me.

I have to say, with all of my sister’s scattered across the country I was feeling very hopeless about how I was going to get ready for the dance by myself. Finding the dress was easy, I simply had to walk into Mary’s room and pluck out the dress I wanted. But what was I going to do with my hair?!

Thankfully, a very kind friend saved the day by deciding I could get ready at her house, where my hair and makeup were overseen by her and her little sister.

I had actually been invited to eat out with my friend and one other girl at a local restaurant before the dance. And yes, my “date” did come along too.

The dance itself was not too highly attended, and I surprised myself by actually having a great time. And that was that. My very first high school dance.

Shhhh..I don’t think my brothers know I had to slow dance with The Boy. Don’t worry, he and I kept as far away as our arms would let us. Oh, freshmen.

The Private Education

By: Clare

On September 1st as many other children and teens were heading off to start yet another school year, I was moving on to start my high school career, an exciting and daunting event that I had put off thinking about until the last minute. From 1st grade on up I had been going to the very small private Catholic school, Sacred Heart, that had dwindled in number down to about 30 by the time I reached seventh grade. Every year they consider closing it, but the power of Catholic education pulls through for another year every time.

 When I was younger, I got so sick of hearing the eighth graders complain about how Sacred Heart was so boring, and they couldn’t wait to get to high school. I swore I would never be like them, and would savor every moment of that school. Boy, did I not keep that promise. When eighth grade came ’round, I was just like them, whining my head off about how I couldn’t wait to leave. And yet, when the final day at Sacred Heart came, I did feel sad. I had spent all my school days there, experienced so much there, gotten into so much trouble there. But I was so excited for high school. There was going to be new classes, new teachers, a hot lunch program, which had been taken out of Sacred Heart my last year for who knows what reason. And of course, new friends. My best friend  had left Sacred Heart after fifth grade, and many of my friends had graduated before I. By the time I was in eighth grade, I had only one of my friends left with me, who is also my cousin. Of course, she wasn’t  the only person I talked to. I’ve always been one who has no problem talking with boys and messing around with them. This is probably the result of having five brothers and all their friends around the house. And since Sacred Heart is grades Pre-K through 8, and I love little kids, I always made time to play with the younger students. That was one of the great thngs about Sacred Heart, the grade difference. The little kids look up to the older kids like they’re these amazing people. I remember being a first grader and thinking how big and tall and mature the seventh and eighth graders were. But when you get older, you realize they’re really not that mature at all. Not at all. But I loved having all the younger students asking to play games with you, or giving you hugs in the hallway. Especially from this little guy.

Bronson was my little buddy. He made my days with his hugs. And that’s what I loved the most about Sacred Heart. The closeness. There were so few people it was impossible not to know everyone’s name, and ,well, pretty much everything else about them too. That’s what I miss the most. The people.

I was happy to graduate.

 I just didn’t know that the books people write on high schools aren’t completely made up (except for the parts where the dorky girls take off their glasses and turn gorgeous and get the popular guys to fall in love with them, that’s never realistic). It’s quite different out  in the big world…

A Piece from the Past

by Colleen

While I have been gleefully packing away all my worldly belongings to head off to college in less than two weeks, Kate has been tearfully writing nostalgic notes on my Facebook wall.  I am convinced that she and Mary still think of me as a fat toddler, stumbling around on jiggly little stumps in a romper.  If I had a picture of myself as a baby, I would post it here to prove that I was exactly that……..18 years ago.

Anyway, as I was sorting through things to pack up, I came across this little bit of satire I wrote for an English class assignment junior year.  This is  prime example of why I will not miss Cashton high school one bit.  Enjoy!

Dress Code Justice

For years girls with small chests have been eclipsed by those who are more endowed.  Year after year, they have stood by at school dances, dateless on the side of the dance floor as their counterparts have swished around the room in the arms of the football team.  Not so any longer at Cashton high school!  Here, the flat-chested girl enjoys a freedom not shared by girls who actually have chests.  The dress code here is flexible and accommodating.

Currently, the dress code states that no person is allowed to wear a shirt that has a neckline dipping lower than a person’s clavicle, or, at most, two finger-width’s below that.  This rule, though, is only applicable to those poor girls who actually have cleavage.  The administration has ever-so-helpfully banded together against such girls, and several teachers have been seen patrolling the halls, hot on the trail of any offenders.  They are very effective in finding and rooting out such outlaws judging from the sullen faces of convicted girls, marching stubbornly down to the office to change into a more school appropriate garment.  The flat-chested girls just smile and give a wave, sporting low V-neck sweaters and low-cut tees, all a relished 6 inches below the clavicle.

But wait, there is more to this dress code than just the necklines of upper-body garments.  In an exhausting bit of research, after trolling tirelessly through the dead boring student handbook, a new rule, never before enforced, has been found!  Apparently, there is a rule about the length of skirts and dresses worn to school.  The hemline of such a garment should not be more than a hand-width above the knee,  Students and staff alike disavow any knowledge of this rule, and the vast quantity of denim miniskirts that appear like a plague in early spring only serves to exemplify this ignorance.

It was quite interesting to note that although there is a rule about the length of skirts and dresses worn to school, there seems to be no record at all of a rule, enforced or not, about the length of shorts worn to school.  I should think that there would be room enough in this elastic dress code to add a clause that limits the length of them as well.  After surveying many students from Cashton high school, it was decided that shorts should be, at a minimum, 3 inches in length from the waist to wherever that would land on one’s upper, upper thigh.  Some students thought that this would be a bit extreme and cut out half of their supply of shorts, but the majority insisted on the decency of 3 inches.

High school dress codes have always been the bane of teenage girls’ existence and will most likely continue to be so in most schools.  Fortunately, there are progressive schools like Cashton high, in which the student body and the administration work together peacefully to create a more free and open style of dress for most students.  I propose a new motto for the school: “Strut your stuff!”  Ah, high school, the absolute best place to learn about justice.

(Note: the motto only applies to girls who do not have large chests)