Book Covers And Other Junk

Seventh Grade moves slowly. I’m forging new friendships and trying to hold on to the old. Steve Kay and I are in 7C, the only boys from our former Sixth Grade class in Woodbury Heights. Vince Fitzgerald is in 7C as well, but he was in the “other” Sixth Grade, and didn’t share all of our experiences.
I miss the cloakroom. My locker combination doesn’t always work, so I have to bang the door just under the lock sometimes before it will open. I don’t have much that someone would want to steal. My jacket? My school books? Once in a while my gym bag? I didn’t have to worry about thieves in Woodbury Heights Elementary. I guess with more kids there’s more temptation.
Our teachers are obsessed with book covers. Some of them are rabid about it. All of the textbooks are brand new, and they want us to keep them that way. Remember to cover your books, they remind us. Some of them demand that we buy the “official” Gateway book covers and not use the paper bag covers our mothers make for us. The Gateway book covers are blue and white of course, with the Gator logo in a kind of laminated glossy paper. I prefer the home-made paper bag cover myself. They provide you with an empty canvas on which to doodle. Mine are usually covered with my “art work” by the middle of the year and a bit worn so I have to get my Mom to make some new ones. The Gateway covers are slippery which makes it hard to hold onto your books. They slide out of the racks under my desks if I’m not careful. Stacking your books under your seat is a daily juggling act I could do without.
There are other official obsessions.
The dress code for one. No blue jeans or shorts. Boys must wear shirts with collars-no t-shirts whatsoever. The girls must wear skirts and blouses or dresses. They can’t wear slacks. They can get away with wearing coullottes, which is a skirt that looks like a pair of shorts. We cannot have long hair like the Beatles or the Beach Boys, and every boy must be clean-shaven. Beards and mustaches are forbidden. Not too many of us can grow them quite yet anyway.
Are the girls’ gym teachers obsessed with them wearing their gym clothes the way Mr. Williamson is? Whatever you do, don’t forget your jockstrap or your white socks. I have nightmares about gym days. I dream that I’ve forgotten my gym bag and Williamson is having a ball humiliating me in front of the whole class. Do the girls have to endure this kind of nonsense?
The gym is finished and we run in circles in our half. There’s this pull-out wall separating the girls from the boys. This seems ridiculous after years of recess and lunch time on the playground. It was always boys and girls together, but now that we’re older they don’t want us to mingle. What is on the minds of our school board anyway?
When the sports season begins we have pep rallies. We’re supposed to whip ourselves into some sort of school spirit frenzy, all of us one mind and body united in hatred for the schools our teams will be playing. I feel weird going to pep rallies. They remind me of the newsreels of the Nuremberg rallies the Nazis used to have. We’re encouraged to scream and yell and worship our guys like they’re some sort of Olympic gods or something. I don’t want to be there, but I have to be. Inside I laugh at the spectacle.
I don’t consider myself a “Gator” yet. I don’t know what I am but I know I’m not a blue reptile that swims in a swamp.
Some days of the week they separate the boys and the girls for the special classes. Industrial Arts for the boys and Home Economics for the girls. Only boys want to be carpenters or mechanics or architects don’t you know? Only girls want to learn how to cook and to sew. It’s 1964 outside, but it might as well be 1954 in the building. No one asked me.
The shops aren’t finished yet so we spend most of our time watching films about how engines work and about shop safety. We have Mechanical Drawing using T-squares and funny – looking triangular rulers. This is precision three-dimensional drawing, displaying the sizes and angles. I have trouble getting the arrowheads on my dimension lines correct, but on the whole I like Mechanical Drawing and the discipline it encourages. I would like to know how to cook, though. Chef Boy-ar-dee had to learn somewhere, didn’t he?
I’m not enjoying Gateway Regional High School, at least not yet. My grades are good and I’ve got my best friend Steve Kay in my class, but it’s not the same as Woodbury Heights Elementary. I wonder how the kids from the other towns feel? How are they making out getting up earlier and waiting for buses to ship them off miles away from home.
At least I don’t have to ride a bus every day.
I’d hate to have to ride one of those damn things.
Wait a second- did I just say damn?
Now where did that come from?