Don't You... Forget About me... don't don't don't...

Today's blog post title brought to you by Simple Minds. I choose this for 2 reasons: #1, because this past weekend was my 20-year (yes... I said, TWENTY-year!) high school reunion, and #2, it represents my generation (the 80s) and I don't think anyone wants to show up at their reunion and think that no one will remember them! (luckily, name tags and the influx of Facebook into our lives helped to alleviate much of that, for many of us, I'm thinking!) I'd also like to add an honorary #3 as to why this song title is so appropos: I think it's timely to mention a moment of rememberance for John Hughes (yes, again, please!), as this was the keystone song that represents "The Breakfast Club", an 80s icon unto itself, and that TOO was symbolic of this weekend's anniversary, because in high school, everyone is broken up into a title, a clique, a symbol, because it's easier to fit into a pre-determined label than to carve your own way. And even if you ventured out to find your own unique voice, then you were an outsider, because you weren't like everyone else. Unless of course, you were a POPULAR person who walked to the beat of your own drum, and then you were hailed as innovative and people yearned to be like you... (and in doing so, they fit into another pre-determined label as follower, but hoping to be a COOL follower). In The Breakfast Club, I think it was nailed down pretty succinctly in the letter Brian wrote to the principal: "You see us as you want to see us... In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain... and an athlete... and a basket case... a princess... and a criminal... " (hoping no one from our class was a criminal though!)

We graduated 1989, when we voted Erasure's "The Innocents" as a favorite album, the year before moving into the 90s and away from a decade of over-abundance and excess. I could get all Dickensian (is that proper terminology?) and say "It was the best of times... it was the worst of times..." but then again, it's HIGH SCHOOL for goodness' sake!

But you know what is beautiful about time? People change and most of us (although maybe afraid of change at times) also learn to embrace it. High school is about finding your voice; once you get into college, it's about USING it, it's about being HEARD. At that point, no one is chastised for it anymore, they are heralded! And although I attended my 5 and 10 year reunions as well, I found everyone still to be welcoming and wonderful at each one, I didn't understand why anyone would hold onto reservations for that long. Heck, maybe it was my OWN attitude that matured. I came into a public high school system as a freshman knowing only a few people there, as I transferred in from a small private Montessori school. I had never attended public school a day in my life, and I was scared beyond belief. I went from being a big fish in a small school to a small fish in a big school... and it makes you WORK to be the person you want to be, I had to work to go find my friends and the people I would fit in with. The few people I knew when I came to public school already had their existing friends and cliques, I wasn't openly invited in. They were comfortable -- they'd already known each other since early grade school. But, I found my way over time, and joining drama and sticking with it for all 4 years (not to mention I had my love after school: dance -- ballet, tap, jazz, etc) actually made me visible, I guess... well, that and I also was in a bunch of the GATE classes with the other people I wanted to be liked by. The view from inside one's self is a very different world than how the world sees you. And no matter how apprehensive you are, you have to remember that you're not alone. Everyone had (and has) insecurities, and we had to learn to support each other, not try to outdo each other. But then again, that concept still always should apply, no matter the time and place.

And the biggest thing I think that makes you visible is your ATTITUDE. Over years, I stifled my insecurities and pushed them down where others didn't see it on a regular basis, and I put myself out there. I smiled at everyone, I worked in retail and loved working in music stores in high school and college and I made it my own goal to get people to smile and come out of THEIR shells. Maybe I felt I related to those people, their issues, and I wanted to make other people feel better. And in turn, I felt better about myself too.

And when I work at a wedding (especially the reception), I feel oddly at home. Maybe it's being surrounded by happy people for a happy occasion, but I love getting to know new people, I love hearing their stories and capturing their moments. And so I offered to bring my camera to the high school reunion, I think it was part of my own (in)security blanket. Because when I have my camera in hand, I have a perfectly legitimate excuse to approach anyone I want -- carte blanche at an event -- and ask them if they'd like a picture. It worked out especially well because I knew a lot of these people already (and attended with 2 good friends, one that I've known since the 1st day of high school and kept up with for the last 24 years, and the other one is one I recently reconnected with). Plus, I happened to email one of the reunion organizers (another classmate) asking if I could bring my camera along and take pix during the night, it turned out that the budget hadn't alloted for a photographer, so it worked out perfectly. And I end up feeling like a little A.D.D-social-butterfly, flitting from one corner of the room to the other, trying to get that perfect moment, then getting swept up in the conversation, then moving on to the next moment I happen to see out of the corner of my eye across the room. (And, if a convo started to get stale, it made a perfect exit excuse, no? But, not that I had any of those moments, thankfully!)

Oh! And, I even approached a guy I had a crush on senior year (name withheld!) -- he never knew I had a crush on him -- and went up and said hi the other night. I didn't think he'd remember me, even though we had at least one class together, he didn't have any reason TO remember me specifically because we didn't have reason to talk to each other. But all the same, he SAID he remembered me, and you know, it's the little things that make you feel victorious after all those years. Isn't that silly? He's married now and I knew it before saying hi, so it wasn't like I was approaching him with any sort of hope; ultimately, it was just about saying hi, and connecting with another being with whom I had a shared past, albeit a minor one on a momentous milestone night 2 decades later. We spoke only a few minutes, but it was enough that if I were able to travel back in time, a la Marty McFly, and tell my younger self that he would know who I was 20 years later (or even lie in saying that he did), that would be enough to get me through that class without him ever speaking to me. Sometimes, you make a bigger impact on the world around you than you ever realize. That's one of my big hopes -- that I can leave an impression on the world around me -- not just professionally, but personally, too.

The evening went by entirely too fast. But it was so good to see everyone again. Tonight I finished going through and sorting the pix from the night, and tomorrow night I will post them and send out the link. And... in a momentary blip of the old insecurity resurrecting itself, I suddenly wondered and hoped to myself that they all like the pictures too and I will garner acceptance and make my way into the cool kids' club. ;-) At which point the song fades into my brain again, the refrain repeating itself over and over along with all the key and pertinent lyrics: "Don't you... forget about me // I'll be alone, dancing you know it baby --" (that's so me! "Dancing, you know it baby") -- "Slow change may pull us apart ... Will you recognize me // Call my name or walk on by ... Don't you try to pretend ... It's my feeling we'll win in the end // I won't harm you or touch your defenses // Vanity and security ... Don't you forget about me."

I know I won't forget.