Can we talk?

More of my high school saga

    By my ninth grade year, the new junior highs still weren't ready. By that time, a nearby black elementary school was emptied and mildly renovated. They couldn't repeat the 8th grade experiment in disaster, but they had to take pressure off the other schools. Again, the intention was to take 7th grade out of all the elementary schools, and 8th and 9th out of the high school. Since my class had never been to high school full-time, they messed with us again.

    One jr. high went to school from 8am to 12:01 pm, and the other went from 12:15 to 4:15. (Some state law would not let us get out at 12:00.) Rising 7th graders, and the 8th graders left their elementary schools the same year. My class was divided a different way from the previous year and was put back with the younger students. If you were in band or orchestra, you had to walk down a different hill back to the high school, in the back instead of the front, for an extra hour of school that the rest of the school missed. Or if you went to the pm school, you went early for music, then walked to the elementary building. The dual jr. high was up on a ridge, still on this side of the railroad tracks. It was surrounded by homes and businesses. It was not your typical big complex with lots of grassy areas, and open spaces. The boys on the football team were no longer with the high school teams. At least the teachers didn't have double duty.
    My ninth grade year just seemed noisier and disorganized. All the classes were about 10 minutes shorter. The building seemed dark and crowded. School was a joke. Can you imagine families where the kids didn't go to school until after 12? How did those kids feel being off all morning, and coming home at dinner time? I was lucky I got the morning shift. From the adult point of view, a building is just a building, right? They're still getting an education, right? To my class, we were insulted. We halfway went to high school, something we'd dreamed about for a few years, then had it taken away, not for a bright, new school as promised, but for something old, worn-out, used for children. We weren't children. We wanted to grow up. But we got shoved around, and cheated out of a quality education We felt cheated. We were angry. We felt frustrated.
    All those kids feeling misplaced and misused and disappointed on top of brewing unresolved racial tension in the city. And no one was equipped or prepared for the pressure cooker about to sound off.