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Eleven years ago, like most teenagers, I made a decision that I clearly did not understand the long-term consequences of. Earlier this week, I received a stark reminder of one of the choices I made in the form of a Facebook message. “Hey John,” the note began friendly enough, “I know we have not spoken in a while, but I wanted to reach out in regard to the planning of your upcoming 10-year high school reunion…” That was it. That was all I could get through before my eyes became unfocused and a sharp pain developed in my cerebral cortex.
The next few seconds were, what I can only describe based off what I have seen in movies, as an acid flashback. My friends and I sitting around a lunchroom table during junior year of high school, an announcement of class elections coming over the intercom and then, as seamless as stealing booze from a parents liquor cabinet, an idea. I can’t say for sure which one of my compatriots blurted it out first, but either way, the idea was born.
“Dude, you should run for Class President!” I jokingly obliged them, speaking of a platform based on cheaper lunches and more revealing cheerleader uniforms. However, at some point in the next few days, the idea consumed me. I was going to run and I was going to win. I went on to sweep the election both junior and senior year. Of course, the topic of coordinating a reunion surfaced here and there, but that was a “future” me situation. A “ten years in the future” me situation.
With the blink of an eye, a decade has passed. Bringing together the graduating class of 2007 has fallen solely on my shoulders. I understand what a lot of you are thinking. “Hey dumbass, planning a reunion isn’t too difficult. Shoot out a few Facebook messages, book a place and order some food. Boom, done.” However, both fortunately and unfortunately, I didn’t attend some podunk secondary school.
My public high school was class 8A in the south suburbs of Chicago. Ballpark number of students I graduated with? 1,000 plus. Go ahead and let that sink in. A number of individuals I attended college with didn’t have half of that in their entire school. With a class that size, the crusade to bring the masses together must begin early. Trying to bridge the venue gap between those who moved to downtown Chicago and those who never left the burbs. Figuring out every food preference for our increasingly particular millennial pallets. Booking entertainment that satiates both club heads and housewives alike. All while knowing that total attendance will be about 10 percent of the class.
I leave you with this. As you think about the high school reunion you did/did not attend or as you begin to receive your invitations over the next few years, I’d like you to think of me. I know you’ll start that group text with your high school pals, remembering the good old days. Reminiscing on how much of a smoke show Miss Williams was, how bad you feel about stuffing that little bitch Chad into a locker and how creepy Zach turned out to be a registered sex offender. Understand that I will be there every step of the way. Serving punch to creepy Zach. Thinking about, but not actually apologizing to that little bitch Chad. And most importantly, trying to put in some work with, hopefully still, Miss Williams. .
Image via Shutterstock
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TheOriginalReaganaut
Working in Chicago's Loop, living on the Northside and doing a piss poor impression of an adult.
You really seem like you don’t want to do this, so why don’t you just not do it?
“When life makes you plan a reunion, just say fuck the reunion, and bail” or something like that
Pretty much. 27 year old you has no obligation to honor commitments that 17 year old you made. There’s a reason that your criminal record is expunged when you turn 18.
*Aside from teen pregnancies.
My class had been emailing me for awhile until I finally said “leave me alone.” Felt good. Hated those fuckers.
I wonder about that too. Like what happens if you just tell them “nah” and go about your business? As long as you don’t care, nothing, right? Some nerd (who are the most excited about this anyway) will pick up the slack plan it.
My class is a highly apathetic group, we haven’t had any class reunions (5 or 10 year) so far. I hope the trend doesn’t stop for the 20, one less thing to worry about.
My class officers: 2 M.D.s, a mother of 4, and a HUGE pot head. Needless to say we haven’t had a 5 or 10 year.
I’m not at my 10 year yet but a colleague of mine just had his 10 year. He was class President and organized a bar crawl throughout Manhattan. And when I say organize I mean he just called up a handful of bars and told them the situation. Each bar had a drink special (think $2-3 off the original price of an overpriced beer, and some discount food). A facebook group was made and all you had to do was buy a wristband at any of the bars for a small fee and you were golden. Minimal legwork and no commitment by anyone.
You’re colleague did it right. The biggest problem my friend had organizing ours was leaving too much open to suggestion. Everyone had an opinion on everything, and of course the shittiest option was used.
These are as obsolete as land lines and pagers. With cellphones, social media etc etc etc, you already see the people you want to. They serve no real purpose. Skipped mine, no ragrets
You had 1000 in your graduating class? My class had 80 and I think we are all low key hoping no one cares enough to plan a reunion this year.
I am my class’ Senior Vice-President and at my school I have to plan it…. Literally hate everyone except like 10 people in my 436 person class.
I graduated with 28 people. Still not going.
My 10 year was two years ago and it was a debacle. I went to an 8A school in the west suburbs and maybe, maybe 10% of our class showed up. A few of my friends and I went because we felt bad for our friend that had to plan it because of all the nerds that complained about everything in the Facebook group. Needless to say it was awkward and I got very drunk. You are not in an enviable position. Which leads me to my major point; Do we even need 10 year reunions anymore? 20 year makes sense, as you’re not going to see everyone or be on social media as much.
“it was awkward and I got very drunk.”
Sounds like a success to me! Mine wasn’t awkward and I still got very drunk.
The blackout really helped after the third “Wait, we went to high school together…?” conversation.
this really makes me feel old
Just had to plan mine and it was awful.
I didn’t even get an invite to mine and we only had 300 or so people in our class. Made my day when I found out I was forgotten, hated 99% of the people I graduated with.