There was so much that was humorous to us. From inside jokes, clowning and teasing and messing with the teachers. There were cool teachers who allowed the occasional joke to surface so the whole class can laugh, but to an extent. Then back to the lesson. We didn't take advantage of those teachers. We like them. We also had numerous Laughter Nazis who punished those who snickered. Ahhh, those classrooms.
Everything is funnier when you're not allowed to laugh, when it has to be muffled with your hands or backpack, fake a cough or sneeze... We loved it! I loved it. It only took one person, the epicenter, to throw a paper clip, whisper something funny and in a manner of minutes, the whole class would be stifling their laughter. One would eventually let out a HA HA and the teacher would have no clue what's going on!
Our sense of humor was... I dont know what to call it but they would never catch on! They're being professionals but we're being comedians and the class was the audience.
Throwing shit was the best! Theres a specific science to throwing any object in the classroom. Certain aspects include What the object is, how far you're throwing it, who's it going to hit, did you even hit them, did it hit somebody accidentally, did the teacher see you, was the entire class quiet or loud, if someone threw something at you- do you throw it back or throw something bigger, did it make a noise when it hit, did you really just throw a sharp ass pencil 5 aisles over, did you get caught, and most important did you hit the teacher.
Amongst us clowns, substitute teachers was like having a field day!
It was an art form: getting on the subs nerves without getting your name on the "misbehaved list".
For instance, one day the sub began to call roll and everybody said "here" for the wrong name. (Guys would say "here" for a girls name and so on...) 3,4 people would say here for one name. That kind of shit was hilarious!
We only wanted to make the best of boring situations while we were still at the stage where it's acceptable. It was funny when someone shone a red laser at the teacher proctoring the CAHSEE. It was funny when they put it in his eye and he slapped himself and funnier when he got mad at the entire class. This scenario would not be tolerated when I'm taking my board exam to be a Pharmacist. Or anytime in college. However, no matter how formal the situation may be, that humor will always be in me. The important thing is to know that we are at the age where we must ACT ACCORDINGLY.
Another one of my favorites was when someone would clear their throats, then someone else and next thing the whole class is clearing their throats one at a time. The teacher gets up, goes fuckin nuts! Says they'll kick out he next person who is "disruptive". Then, after a moment of silence, our eyes dart around the room, looking for that one brave soul to actually do it, to clear their throats in such a Smartass manner that it sends the teacher in a fuckin UPROAR! And the class goes WILD! Although they got kicked out the classroom for the remainder, the teacher knows that we won. We broke their control. Our sense of humor crossed the Iritation threshold.
I was one of those who counted days. I don't mean counting how many days to graduation. I counted the days of significance. I counted the days that I knew I would remember. Nobody remembers the blur, the unordinary. Those people who made days extraordinary I've still got love for. If it weren't for them, I would have nothing to recall throughout my high school years.
The aesthetics of my environment is what inspired me to start writing. From the redundant class lessons to the friends and close friends, my early stages of poetry contain many allusions to my environment.
I want to mention the quality of teachers and how a couple semesters of mutual dedication can lead to years of discipline and understanding. If you were fortunate to have Mr. Monroe for math, you know what I'm talking about. Even through these college years whatever As and Bs Ive obtained, I'm most proud of the two As I got in his Algebra 1 class. That was my Sophomore year.
The moral of all this is understanding how we, at young ages, naturally make the best of our conditions and situations. To many, the last day couldn't come soon enough. Dreading a place so much can lead to dreading the people and all the other factors that made that place an institution, a forced society in which individuality is interpreted as conforming.
I'm not saying I miss high school, just reminiscing. I see myself sitting in class these days and I always catch the opportunity to clown on someone or make a joke but I keep it to myself.