Adrienne Writes

The high school was no bigger than my grammar school. In fact, it looked like the little school I attended from kindergarten to sixth grade. But instead of holding tiny kids, it hosted big ones. It had a metal detector at the front door and inside held hundreds of kids and some very casually dressed teachers.

Welcome to the new Chicago public high school.

The school itself shall be unnamed to protect the innocent. And let me also say that I was honored to be the 2010 Black History Month speaker. However, as I walked the hallways with my host teacher, I was shocked at the amount of cursing and general filth that came from the mouths of students at this school.

I know that teens practice at aggravating authority. But this seemed to be extra. These teens were in school, being watched by teachers, and they still let loose with their lips. The teachers didn’t stop them. My host didn’t even turn her head at all the “effin this” and “suck my that” that went on in the hallways.

My sister, who works with teens, says this is to be expected. However, it still shocked me because when I was in high school (which wasn’t that long ago) I would have been sent to detention for cursing.

Anyhow… When the color guard posted the flags, the students in the auditorium were doing everything but watching the guard. And God bless that Asian kid on stage who shouted out “Color guard! Attention!” He was so Marine Corps-serious and he didn’t let the general rudeness of his fellow students interrupt the very important job of getting those flags where they were supposed to be.

I hadn’t said the pledge to the flag in a very long time, but I still know the words. After having said them everyday for 12 years, they are etched in my memory. But again, these students seemed to lack knowledge of the words to the pledge. It made me wonder if they make kids say it everyday in school now? Or is saying the pledge now only an option, like AP English?

When Lift Every Voice and Sing was played, some students didn’t stand. I had to gesture to the muffin top-hanging-over-her-too-tight-jeans girl sitting near me to stand up. To her credit she didn’t give me any attitude. She looked surprised that I’d noticed her. Despite her ill-fitting clothes, she was a pretty brown-skinned girl.

Then the steel drum band played some fun songs. I liked that. Can’t say I’ve ever been to a high school that had a steel drum band with a uniform of tropical shirts.

After that, I kicked off my speech talking about the Medill F and the importance of getting things right. It went well. I made them laugh. Most of them paid attention. I’d prepared a 30-minute talk, but at 23 minutes I decided to wrap. No sense boring them or making them fidget. The teachers told me that 23 minutes was pretty good with teens. One teacher told me that she can’t keep the attention of 38 students for a class period and here I was talking to a couple hundred of them. Interesting. Afterward, many of the students approached me to ask about working at the magazine, being an editor and being a journalist. I stayed in the auditorium for a bit longer to answer questions and offer encouragement to students who complained about difficult English classes and why their teacher was making them read the “just too much, just too long” classics like Grapes of Wrath.

One Pakistani student in particular was very interested in my job. He was a tall guy; an aspiring model. Well spoken. He wants to travel for a living, but he wants a job that’s not too boring. I suggested that he consider journalism. He could be a photographer. Or perhaps he could be a writer. He told me that he sucks at writing. I told him that good writing is only a matter of practice. After all, Ben Carson wasn’t born a great brain surgeon. He had to practice at it to get those gifted hands.

This kid engaged me in conversation for a good 20 minutes. He claims he’s not a writer, but I think he could be a journalist. Because boy oh boy could he ask questions.

I may not have reached them all, but I reached at least one.