The High School Reunion

The Lake Theater and Cafe

For the last year, I had been part of a 10–member committee planning our 50th High school Reunion.  Lincoln High in the 60s was the 'downtown' high school and was also the newest, being the 2nd iteration.  Fifty+ years later it's falling, like us, into disrepair and is slated for replacement (unlike us).

Lincoln & committee c. 1967

Although I had physical disabilities, I had only minor cognitive decline, related to being 68 rather than my ataxia.  The benefit was that I still remembered how to design and use a database—very beneficial with the data collection tasks.

Accumulating alumni information over the course of a year insured that I would recognize most classmates.  It also gave me an opportunity to catch up in advance of the reunion.  The rest of the committee members didn't have that advantage.  Incorporating the reunion planning committee as a new group into my 'village'* was an unexpected benefit. It was more fun than planning a wedding–fewer details, I didn't have to buy an outfit, and, best of all, it wasn't my party 👏. 

Great weather, good view

Breaking with the common custom of having a sit–down dinner, the committee had chosen a casual, low key venue.  We selected a local theater cafe with an outdoor deck, good food, good accessibility and alcohol. Not wanting to have a big, formal do–dah, the event dress code required only shirt and shoes. After all, this wasn't the Academy Awards.  It seemed like people dressed comfortably (no glitz in sight), and that was the goal.  Scheduling the event for the last weekend of September was gutsy, but the unpredictable northwest weather cooperated that evening and the next day.  No rain, not too cold, not too hot–just right...😅.

The turnout

I wasn't the only mobility–impaired person, and had many years of getting over some of my vanity.  I was ready for this humiliation bullet.  Many people had their own life lemons with which to deal, and others to whom another's lemon just didn't matter.  I did, however, get my nails done and my gray roots colored.  There is a limit to how much vanity one can ignore**. 😉

A 50th high school reunion can a momentous event to some, a non–event to others.  In the course of 50 years, everyone has life's ups and downs with which to deal.  Overall, the turnout was great, but it did take a little coaxing of fence-sitting alums who weren't sure that they wanted to attend.  The committee members just wanted people to come by any means possible.  We found an engaging article about ' reunion reticence' written in the New York Times and published it on our Facebook Page.  Excerpted from it:

"On the surface, high school reunions are a chance to reminisce, reconnect and discover who has been posting deceptively flattering photos on Facebook. But the collision of past and present is also a time of self-reflection, measuring who you are against what you wished for yourself and what you think your peers expected of you.

For some, reunions offer vindication. For others, they’re a dreaded reckoning. For many they really are just a chance to catch up. But what most everyone has in common is some level of anxiety, as the insecurities of the past get thrust into the present."

As retirement nears, people’s lives start to resemble each other’s once again. There’s less drinking and more talking, with conversations focusing on “remember when.” People find value in being around others they knew when they were younger because it makes them feel younger.  The 50th reunion is often the most well-attended. There’s a sense that this could be the last time you see these people. Plus, people go because they are able to attend. Like the 40th, nostalgia is strong.

— High-school reunion anxiety: Facing the old you

By

Alexia Elejalde-Ruiz

Reconnecting and eating

The Sunday picnic the next day afforded more opportunity for reconnecting with former classmates, eating potluck contributions and leftover food from the evening before.  I had hoped that we had planned an enjoyable weekend for classmates, but was struck by the number of spouses who also seemed to be having a good time. They may have been dragged there and just were being good sports, but I didn't see any indication of it.  Between the two events, about a third of graduates came and (I think), were glad they did. 

The lesson: With Earl pushing, Thelma and I spent the weekend back in time. We were definitely a more fun and interesting group at 68 than we were at 18.

*Previous post:  Where's My Village?
**Previous post:  Scooting While Vain