The Farmington School District introduced them in 1988. Our Editor looks back on two debates--one over the letters themselves, and one over whether to buy a letter jacket
The Editor closes out this issue with an examination of how we see each other
G&G Time Capsule is dedicated to Brian Passerman (1972-2004) and Andy Jones (1971-2009), two members of the Class of 1990 who passed away during the last 10 years.
Right about now, some of you may be wondering, "What is this 'Green & Gold Time Capsule'?"
Perhaps the best way to tell you what it is to explain why I call it that.
Recently, for the first time in years, I went through a box of high school mementos that I had been keeping. And it dawned on me that it was like opening a time capsule. Some of the mementos had stories behind them, but those stories by themselves wouldn't do--sometimes a story just isn't the same without at least one image. And I didn't have a scanner or a digital camera to take those pictures 20 years ago or even 10 years ago. So those stories remained untold for years... until now.
Welcome to Green & Gold Time Capsule, which picks up where two previous compilations (Green & Gold Digest and the Green & Gold Reunion Issue) left off. I created the former in 1990, partly as a year-end review of two of my classes, partly as an attempt to launch Harrison High's fourth publication. I created the latter with the 10-year reunion in mind. Most of you may be finding out them just now, however. I have published them both online this year.
As with the previous two G&Gs, G&G Time Capsule was written almost entirely by me for whatever amusement/entertainment/memory-refreshment value you can get from it. The assortment of stories I offer this time around ranges from French music to rap music, from math to art, from Swing Out program covers to academic letters.
An in-depth look back on a challenging Advanced Placement Math assignment
On the final school day of December 1987, my 10th Grade Advanced Math teacher, Mr. Mike Teachman, gave everybody in the class an extra credit assignment. The challenge: Write each number from 1 to 50 using the digits in 1987. He gave us the whole winter vacation to complete the assignment and our papers were due on January 4, 1988.
In order for the class to better understand this challenge, Mr. Teachman gave a sample problem: Write the number 100 using four 4's. At first, everybody was stumped, until he showed us the answer:
44/.44
As indicated in that example, decimal points could be used. Symbols (like +, -, and the square root sign) could also be used. But you could only use each digit in 1987 once, and you could not use any other number.
There were a few more rules for this assignment:
Each paper would be scored as follows: For each correct answer, 1 point would be added to your score; for each incorrect answer, 2 points would be deducted. If no answer was given for a problem, no points would be added or deducted.
Whoever had the highest score for the assignment would have 30 extra credit points added to their total grade. Those 30 points would be enough to raise the overall grade for the semester by about 2 points (so, for example, if someone was getting a B+, a perfect score on this assignment could have raised that grade to an A-).
Everybody would be competing against each other, which meant nobody would share answers.
As I got started on the assignment, I found that some numbers were easy to crack (like 2, 13, 16, 23 and 25; for more details, a scan of my paper appears below, and you can click on the image to get a full-sized copy).
(Click on the image above to enlarge it.)
As you can see on my paper, there was a simpler answer for #4 that didn't occur to me; I could have been written it as 91-87.
But a few other numbers seemed impossible, no matter how hard I tried. To borrow a phrase from WWE announcer Jim Ross, #24 was about as tough as a $2 steak.
Then one night, I realized that I needed to find more symbols to use--parentheses, brackets, decimal points and square root signs could only take me so far. I thought to myself, There was this symbol Mr. Ford mentioned when I was at Warner Middle School... what was it? (At that time, William M. Ford taught 7th and 8th grade Advanced Math at Warner.) After racking my brain for what seemed like a couple of hours, it came to me: The factorial, which is indicated by an exclamation point. (The factorial of a non-negative integer n is the product of all positive integers less than or equal to n. For example: 3! = 3*2*1 = 6.)
At first, it didn't seem like that exclamation point would do me any good, as the factorials of 7, 8 and 9 all yielded numbers much larger than 50, and the factorial of 1 is 1. But the square root of 9 is 3, and the factorial of 3 is 6, meaning I could, in essence, use a 6 without breaking the rules of the assignment. Long story short, the factorial helped me with a few hard numbers, like 22, 24, 35, 38, and 39.
(√9)! = 6
The real fun, though, didn't come until we returned from winter vacation. After we turned in our papers, Erica Watnick came up to me and asked me if I did all 50 problems, which I did, and she said she did, too. But she mentioned that she squared and even cubed some of the numbers to get her answers.
I figured that she had used 2 for squares and 3 for cubes; for example, she might have said...
35 = (7-1)² - 9 + 8
I was sure Mr. Teachman wouldn't allow that. But I didn't want to let her know that, so I acted astonished and said that it never occurred to me to do that.
As Mr. Teachman checked everyone's papers, Erica asked him how she fared:
EW: Do I have the highest score? MT: Well, Rabo's already got you beat by 51 points. EW: What do I have? MT: Minus one. EW: Is that what I have wrong? MT: No, that's your score!
My paper had correct answers for all 50 problems. Erica, however, had 33 right and 17 wrong. Since 2 points were deducted for each incorrect answer, her paper had a score of -1. I was right after all: Squaring and cubing were not allowed.
Erica turned to me in shock and said, "Rabo, it's not fair!"
As it turned out, mine was the only paper to have 50 correct answers.
It also turned out that neither of us really needed the extra credit points--we both got A's. Still, for poor Erica, "A Farewell to 1987" might as well have been called "Goodbye--and Good Riddance--to 1987."
One more number-related thing to note about 1987: Prior to 2013, 1987 was the last year that all four digits were different--every year in between had one digit used twice.
In May 1989, "Rabo" mounted a campaign for senior class Vice President. Unknown to everyone else, he also kept a journal of that campaign. Unknown, that is, until now.
May 2, 1989
During my first hour class (The Rise of the United States as a World Power with Mr. Shaw), assistant principal Mr. Wilson announced the availability of nomination petitions for the upcoming senior class elections. At first, I wasn't interested, and when Ray Vucinaj asked me if I was going to run, I said I didn't think I would. I just filed the announcement in the back of my head and concentrated on Mr. Shaw's lecture on Woodrow Wilson.
I wouldn't change my mind until the final hour of the day, my AP English class. Ted Skinner had announced his candidacy for President, and already had students signing his petition.
Skinner has one important thing in common with me: He didn't get inducted into the National Honor Society as a junior, even though he had the qualifications to be inducted: In addition to getting good grades and being in a couple of advanced classes, he played football and was chosen as an Eagle Scout for his Boy Scout troop in 1988.
Another thing, too: During my 4th hour AP Math class, Jared Goldapper had said that the elections would be full of jocks and cheerleaders; Skinner didn't quite fit the "jock" mold, and I never did.
But after seeing Skinner start his campaign, I decided that Goldapper would not be totally correct. Sure, some jocks and cheerleaders would run, but they wouldn't be the only ones.
Since I didn't want to run against Skinner, I decided to run for Vice-President. Goldapper's statement about the jocks and cheerleaders had been the fuel, and Skinner's campaign was the spark. During 6th hour, I started writing down possible slogans, generating ten by the end of the hour. I picked up my own petition at the end of the day. I would have a role in the Harrison Senior Class Power Struggle, Part XIX.
May 3
It wasn't hard at all to get 10 signatures. Ray Vucinaj was the first to sign my petition. It's cool that he's the first because he has what Mr. Poelke (assistant principal) calls "global thinking"--knowledge of current events that is essential to the maturing American, yet many at our age don't have such an asset. I got the other 9 signatures I needed during 4th hour (Advanced Placement 11th Grade Math).
Now, my concern is picking a good slogan for the posters. I don't want a feeble one, obviously, but the slogan can't be so strong that people remember it and forget me.
In 5th hour French III, I find out that Paul Levine has started running a Presidential campaign. Todd Rope and I are the first two to sign his petition.
Also, the MESS ticket is introduced (Sonja Magdevski for Vice-President, Brian Ellison for Treasurer, Ted Skinner for President, Jeff Sklar for Secretary). As in, "Get us out of our MESS."
At home, I begin working on fliers. Using the Print Shop software I had on my home computer, I make one that says, "Don't drink and vote this year. Make sure that RABO is your choice for vice-prez." Inspired by a "don't drink and vote" Doonesbury comic strip I saw in November 1986, it features a "no" sign over a ballot and a martini.
(Why the lace frills and fancy script type? That was a vain attempt to get some
of the "female vote" away from Sonja Magdevski and Jenny Fitzgerald.)
May 4
The minute I came to school, I went right to the library, armed with plenty of spare change to copy my fliers with. Also, I noticed posters from a third candidate in the race for Veep: Jenny Fitzgerald. I thought, "Oh, my. Two of the most popular girls in the class, and I'm going up against them!"
By the time I finished putting up copies of my fliers, I had a thought: If Magdevski and Fitzgerald have the same loyal following (their friends, plus the jocks), they'd split their votes and I might win if I got enough of my own votes. It had happened before, way back in 1912. William Howard Taft and Theodore Roosevelt battled over the same conservative voters while Democrat Woodrow Wilson won with less than 42% of the vote. And believe me, I was feeling like Woody.
2nd hour is Humanities. We're watching a film from 1965, The Agony and the Ecstasy. We're watching it because the film is about the great Renaissance artist Michelangelo, but the music at the start of the film, with its snare drums, gets me thinking about the battle I've just gone into myself.
I thought I might dominate voting among males, with Sonja and Jenny splitting the female vote, but during third hour, I see that Todd Herremans (from the varsity basketball team) is in the running. There are four candidates in the race now.
Above: Brian Ellison during his campaign for Class Treasurer.
In French III, a certain Junior Board member came up to me, questioned the seriousness of my campaign, and decided to give me some lecture about responsibility and what the Senior Board does. Now, I certainly didn't join the campaign thinking that being the Veep was a lazy job. I thought this kind of position helped make decisions about the school and the building. When she said that the Senior Board sells food and candy at football games, I was a little bit stunned. I am a student, a manager, a rapper and a writer. I am not a salesman. My mind is wrapped up in the prospect of selling hot dogs and M&M's for the rest of the hour.
Back at home, I continue to think more about the job than winning, which is as it should be. My final thought: Stay in the campaign. If you win, you deal with the job. If you lose, you lose, but at least you won't be selling hot dogs. If you pull out, you not only lose, but you're a wimp. The Russians pulled out of World War I, and they looked so lame, they didn't even get invited to the League of Nations after the war ended.
Now intent on staying in the campaign, I made another flier. This time, I decided to dig through magazine ads instead of using the Print Shop. I used the left half of a 2-page Merit cigarette ad, which said "Smoke this page." I thought this ad was hilarious because I had never seen an ad that asked its reader to do something that stupid, like smoke a page from a magazine. I added some text below the "Smoke this page" headline: "You might as well if your idea of a Senior Class Vice-President isn't Mark Rabinowitz."
May 5
I've got a hell of a month on my hands--the campaign, I've got the Stratford field trip on the 19th, I've got the SAT to prepare for, and then Precalc and Physics on top of that.
I now know of 14 juniors who are running for the four offices (including me), and no wall in the building is without a sign or poster. It dawns on me, I'm not just battling with my competition (Jenny, Sonja and Todd). When it comes to getting attention, I'm battling with the candidates for the other three offices as well.
I bumped into Mr. Shalla (my Chemistry teacher last year) while putting up fliers. He joked that I was getting students to take up smoking with the "Smoke this page" fliers.
Aaron Browne, a candidate for Secretary, is putting his fliers all over the walls, usually in messy clusters several feet apart. He likes what I've been doing with my fliers. But I think he's gone overboard with his.
One thing I don't like about this election so far: I'd like at least one debate, but there haven't been any.
May 8
I did a new flier over the weekend. It's based on a Maxell videotape ad, that shows a man being "blown away" by the quality of the videotape, but I added the words, "Getting too much hot air?" A number of my friends say they like this one. I wish I had come up with it a week ago. Another thing about this ad: I mentioned the date of Election Day, which is Wednesday, May 10. I think the "hot air" flier is the only one to mention when Election Day is, and I'm hoping a few voters will remember that.
The "hot air" ad, based on a Maxell videotape ad from the early 1980s. That ad, in turn,
Aaron Browne suggested that I make some posters in addition to fliers, but I figure I'm fine as long as my fliers stand out and don't get "lost in the shuffle." Sure, posterboards are cheap--they're 50 cents each--but I don't want my parents to know that I'm running, and since I don't have a car to drive to the store to buy the posterboards (and store them as well), I'll stick with the fliers.
Paul Levine still hasn't made any posters yet. I'd like to see him do something.
Ted Skinner doubts he'll win because he thinks he and Levine will split their vote (I didn't ask him what he meant, but my guess is the "male vote"), leaving Kallen to win.
May 9
It's the last day before elections.
Hardly anything new's been put up, aside from a banner for "Downtown Aaron Browne." I like to think it's because we're finally giving our voters time to make their decisions. Right now, over 200 juniors may be focusing on the candidates, not their fliers or their posters.
I wonder if there will be anyone on the ballot who's been running without any fliers or posters. I've heard rumors of Angela Tomle, Jenay Willer and Victor Lajcaj running for something. They'd really have to make names for themselves in order to win.
ELECTION DAY, May 10
(Before the election)
I could not have waited another day for this.
I copied my "hot air" flier a few more times. Skinner has a "the good, the bad and the ugly" poster flier: A picture of him appears above "good," a picture of Stephanie Kallen is "bad" and there's a picture of a macaque above the word "ugly."
I saw one poster Sonja put up promising (among other things) a better All-Night Party next year. One thing I hate about political campaigns is making promises they won't, or can't, keep, and I was never going to stoop to that level.
The time ticks away so slowly. But I know that the election itself will fly by (it's held during lunch hour).
Who will I vote for? Hey, this is America, where voting is supposed to be "secret ballot." So I won't tell.
(After the election)
The winners were announced over the PA at the end of 5th hour: Brian Ellison (Treasurer), Joe George (Secretary), Sonja Madgevski (Vice-President) and Stephanie Kallen (President). Ellison was the only candidate without previous board experience to win.
Todd Rope said at the conclusion of the announcement, "No surprises." But I have to admit, I thought either Jenny Fitzgerald would win, or I'd pull off an upset with those "Don't drink and vote," "Smoke this page" and "Getting too much hot air" fliers.
Even though I lost, I feel I've gained some respect. I'll spend the rest of the day removing my fliers and walking back to the real world. I've got 3 chapters to study for Physics, anyway.
A few weeks later:
I don't know where I finished. I don't care anymore about whether it was second by a few votes or dead last, but I would have loved to have seen the final tally. I don't know if the Catalyst would have published the results (they had an issue planned for May but they had problems with either the computer or the printer and that issue was cancelled).
This article is dedicated to songs that Harrison's French I-IV students heard between 1986 and 1990
I took French at Harrison for all four years I was there. Remember how those headsets would lower from a compartment in the ceiling? I thought that was awesome. Anyway, on this page, I have found YouTube videos of various French songs that I recall listening to during those years. The lyrics to each song appears below as well.
The first two, I remember hearing in Mrs. Schneider's French I class. The rest, I heard in Mrs. Orlich's French III and IV classes.
(To those of you who took Spanish, I would have liked to have put together a page like this one with songs Mrs. Looke and Ragusa played. I did ask a few of you but none of you remembered anything specific. Sorry!)
Joe Dassin - Les Champs-Elysées
Je m'baladais sur l'avenue le cœur ouvert à l'inconnu
J'avais envie de dire bonjour à n'importe qui
N'importe qui et ce fut toi, je t'ai dit n'importe quoi
Il suffisait de te parler, pour t'apprivoiser
Aux Champs-Elysées, aux Champs-Elysées
Au soleil, sous la pluie, à midi ou à minuit
Il y a tout ce que vous voulez aux Champs-Elysées
Tu m'as dit "J'ai rendez-vous dans un sous-sol avec des fous
Qui vivent la guitare à la main, du soir au matin"
Alors je t'ai accompagnée, on a chanté, on a dansé
Et l'on n'a même pas pensé à s'embrasser
Aux Champs-Elysées, aux Champs-Elysées
Au soleil, sous la pluie, à midi ou à minuit
Il y a tout ce que vous voulez aux Champs-Elysées
Hier soir deux inconnus et ce matin sur l'avenue
Deux amoureux tout étourdis par la longue nuit
Et de l'Étoile à la Concorde, un orchestre à mille cordes
Tous les oiseaux du point du jour chantent l'amour
Aux Champs-Elysées, aux Champs-Elysées
Au soleil, sous la pluie, à midi ou à minuit
Il y a tout ce que vous voulez aux Champs-Elysées
Joe Dassin - L'Amérique
Mes amis, je dois m'en aller
Je n'ai plus qu'à jeter mes clés
Car elle m'attend depuis que je suis né
L'Amérique
J'abandonne sur mon chemin
Tant de choses que j'aimais bien
Cela commence par un peu de chagrin
L'Amérique
L'Amérique, l'Amérique, je veux l'avoir et je l'aurai
L'Amérique, l'Amérique, si c'est un rêve, je le saurai
Tous les sifflets des trains, toutes les sirènes des bateaux
M'ont chanté cent fois la chanson de l'Eldorado
De l'Amérique
Mes amis, je vous dis adieu
Je devrais vous pleurer un peu
Pardonnez-moi si je n'ai dans mes yeux
Que l'Amérique
Je reviendrai je ne sais pas quand
Cousu d'or et brodé d'argent
Ou sans un sou, mais plus riche qu'avant
De l'Amérique
L'Amérique, l'Amérique, je veux l'avoir et je l'aurai
L'Amérique, l'Amérique, si c'est un rêve, je le saurai
Tous les sifflets des trains, toutes les sirènes des bateaux
M'ont chanté cent fois la chanson de l'Eldorado
De l'Amérique
L'Amérique, l'Amérique, si c'est un rêve, je rêverai
L'Amérique, l'Amérique, si c'est un rêve, je veux rêver
Vanessa Paradis - Joe Le Taxi
Joe le taxi,
Y va pas partout,
Y marche pas au soda.
Son saxo jaune
Connaît toutes les rues par coeur,
Tous les p'tits bars,
Tous les coins noirs
Et la Seine,
Et ses ponts qui brillent.
Dans sa caisse,
La musique à Joe,
C'est la rumba,
Le vieux rock au mambo.
Joe, le taxi,
C'est sa vie,
Le rhum au mambo,
Embouteillage.
Il est comme ça,
Joe - Joe - Joe.
Dans sa caisse,
La musique à Joe résonne.
C'est la rumba,
Le vieux rock au mambo bidon.
Vas-y Joe,
Vas-y Joe,
Vas-y fonce,
Dans la nuit, vers l'amazone,
Joe le taxi,
Et Xavier Cugat,
Joe le taxi,
Et Yma Sumac,
Joe - Joe - Joe,
Joe, le taxi,
C'est sa vie,
Le rhum au mambo,
Embouteillage,
Joe le taxi,
Et les Mariachis,
Joe le taxi,
Et le cha-cha-chi,
Joe le taxi,
Et le cha-cha-chi,
Vas-y Joe,
Vas-y fonce,
Dans la nuit, vers l'amazone.
Vanessa Paradis - Marilyn et John
Marilyn peint sa bouche.
Elle pense à John,
Rien qu'à John.
Un sourire, puis un soupir,
Elle fredonne une... chanson
Ni triste, ni gaie,
Entre deux, trois... interviews
Et du swing qui mousse.
Dans son bain, c'est fou,
Marilyn chante son nom.
Elle s'invente des chansons
Sur le mariage d'une étoile et d'un lion.
Marilyn, amoureuse...
Elle appelle John... John.
De secrétaires en ministères,
Au téléphone, elle attend.
C'est un amour mystère,
Un secret d'état :
Marilyn change sa voix.
Elle s'invente des prénoms
Et le mariage d'une étoile et d'un lion.
Marilyn, amoureuse...
C'est l'histoire d'une étoile et d'un lion.
Elle s'invente des chansons
Sur le mariage d'une étoile et d'un lion...
Niagara - Quand La Ville Dort
Un peu plus tard après la nuit
Et je n'ai pas encore dormi
Un peu plus tard après la fin de l'aurore
Mais est-ce que je t'aime encore.
Et pourquoi je l'ignore
Mes larmes s'évaporent
Et le silence est d'or.
Quand la ville dort
Je laisse aller le sort
Je n'ai aucun, je n'ai aucun, je n'ai aucun remords
The story of one student's attempt to paint a mural at HHS in 1988
When Harrison High School opened in 1970, its halls were awash what art teacher Mr. Bill Harmon called "a kaleidoscope of bright colors." But by the late 1980s, those colors were disappearing, giving way to beige and dark brown.
School administrators, such as Mr. Clayton Graham, the principal at Harrison in the late 1980s, argued that those awful beiges and browns gave the school a "cleaner" image. HHS needed to reverse the damage done to its image during the 1970s (when the radio station and the student lounge were destroyed due to acts of vandalism).
Indeed, few students complained openly about the loss of color.
One student who did complain was Mark Rabinowitz. In November 1988, as a junior in Studio Art class, he designed a mural with the intent of painting it on a wall in one of the corridors, adding some color back to the school's increasingly colorless walls.
"The new beiges and browns promote the stereotypical prison image," Rabinowitz said, adding that those colors corroborated stereotypes perpetuated by Farmington and North Farmington students about Harrison being prison-like, citing an article in the November 1987 Catalyst in which students from those schools were interviewed about their perceptions of HHS.
Rabinowitz also argued that beiges and browns, being not much different than black and white, were one-dimensional, caused students to feel less upbeat, and gave the impression that the student body had become less creative than in years past.
The original copy of Rabinowitz's mural design, called "Operation Colorize," is either still in some old file at Harrison, or otherwise lost. However, Rabinowitz described it as having a black background with rectangles of various colors around the edges, and featuring a large black-and-royal blue checkered triangle taking up the center and serving as the focal point, styled in an "Op Art" sort of manner.
He noted that there were four murals on the top floor of the school at that time: One next to room 301, one next to room 333, one next to the school store's entrance (the Emporium), and one inside the library classroom (a small room adjoining the library that is referred to in the map below as "the non-book media room").
The map above shows walls where murals existed as of 1988 (in green) and walls where Mark Rabinowitz wanted to paint his mural (in yellow). Click on the image above for a larger view.
He identified several sites on that floor where a new mural could be painted, including four at the east end the Social Studies corridor, parts of walls near stairwells 5 East and 6 West, and the wall between the doors to rooms 341 and 343.
However, Mr. Graham told Rabinowitz that the only way to paint a new mural was to paint over one of the existing murals, claiming that he did not want to see his walls completely covered over by murals. Rabinowitz disliked that option. "I wanted to add color to the school, not destroy someone else's work." Rabinowitz recalled. "Then my older brother Sander ('86) told me that the black-and-white mural that had been painted next to room 333 (in 1987) was not a new one; it was painted over another mural that another student had painted. That was terrible. I don't know how anyone could do that."
With Mr. Graham refusing to allow Rabinowitz to paint a new mural, and Rabinowitz refusing to destroy someone else's work, Operation Colorize was a no-go.
Rabinowitz mentioned another reason why he wanted to take up the fight against beige and brown: In 1981, his father decided to redo two bedrooms in his house with beige walls and brown carpets. They were the bedrooms belonging to him and his older brother, Sander ('86). "I realize now, he's the owner of the house, and he was thinking about selling it after Sander and I left the house," Rabinowitz said. "But (in 1981) I wanted my room painted orange and I never asked for beige. Beige is boring. It isn't even a color in the Crayola box."
Happily, Mrs. Laura Sparrow reports that Harrison High has recently regained some color. Mrs. Sparrow, who taught English during our years at HHS and briefly returned there in 2009, says, "The old (murals) were painted under years ago, and Harrison went a long time with none, then started up again when they put the skylights into the library. It got the first (and maybe best) ones then." The murals just below the skylights in the library feature historical figures like Abraham Lincoln, Socrates and Mahatma Gandhi.
How Head of the Class inspired a rap video fantasy
I have always held the following view of advanced classes: In exchange for the greater challenges that any given advanced class offers, its students should be offered special privileges, like field trips, unusual activities, and so on. It works that way in sports--as you go from the minor leagues to the major leagues, sure, you face tougher opponents, but you go from riding buses, eating convenience store food and living in two-star motels to flying in jets, eating four-star restaurant food and living in four-star hotels.
The advanced classes I had at Warner Middle School were hell. Sure, my Advanced Math classes meant I got to take pre-algebra and algebra a year ahead of most other students. In eighth grade, I also had Advanced English, which meant putting up with a teacher whose vocabulary tests required memorizing the definitions of 60 words, word-for-word, from a specific dictionary. In both classes, I had teachers that took off more points than was reasonably necessary for relatively small errors. Any compensation for these greater challenges and tougher teachers? Nope. No field trips, no movies, no parties, nothing.
In the fall of 1986, as we started high school, ABC had a new situation comedy called Head of the Class. It was about a group of ten gifted students and their history teacher, and as is the norm in TV shows, they got to do stuff that, to put it bluntly, just didn't happen in your typical high school classes. In the episode that aired on February 18, 1987, they did a music video for a time capsule their school was putting together. That was way cool. I WANTED to do something like that.
So I went about trying to get something like that started for my 9th Grade Advanced Math Class. That class was a small group as well--myself, Alex Nemirovsky, Matthew Rippin, Erica Watnick, Ed Serzo, Ted Skinner, Debra Stein, Rebecca Stern, Jenny Church, John Oros, Matt Paletz and Paul Levine. Tim Story and David Parks would join the class later that year to make it 15 students in all. I envisioned a video filmed at various parts of the school, such as the "patio," Buller Field, the gym and so on, and it would tell a story about the class, the students in it and the goings-on in that class.
One big difference between the "Head of the Class" video and my video idea was that I would write up a rap song, with a beat and a style like the Chicago Bears' Super Bowl Shuffle earlier in '86.
Just as the Bears had a refrain ("We are the Bears, shufflin' crew..."), I had this one:
"Head of the Class," go to Hell Mrs. T's 5th hour really rings the bell 15 strong will really make you laugh If laughs were water, you'd be taking a bath
Just as invididual Bears like Jim McMahon, Walter Payton and Mike Singletary cut a brief promo about themselves, each student would "rap" about himself or herself--four lines each. Since I knew that not every student was familiar with rap music, I decided I would write the first two lines (to give them "a feel for how it goes"), and hope they'd pick up the last two lines. Matt Rippin, however, just wasn't familiar with rap music, so I took the liberty of finishing his lines:
Guess who the import from England is? It's me, Matt Rippin, for the sake of show biz! I never ask for money from my old man I'll get it by selling this rap to Iran!
(Quick note on that last line: It's a reference to the Iran-Contra scandal, when the United States government sold arms to Iran for money that would help the Contra rebels in Nicaragua, as well as the release of six hostages.)
Erica Watnick was nice enough to finish her stanza for me:
I'm Erica Watnick and I like to sing My sister Michelle is DIS-GUS-TING In math I always set the curve But Tim and Dave are on my last nerve
(That last line refers to Story and Parks; as for the second line, back in '84, Erica's older sister Michelle called her a dog on the bus home from Warner, and that pissed me off; if I had to do it all again, I'd go up to Michelle and slap her in the face.)
Our teacher was Mrs. Louise Tsatsanifos, so I came to refer to the song as the TsatsaRap.
I ultimately had to pull the plug on the project due to lack of interest (I think Matt's and Erica's stanzas were the only ones that were complete), but I didn't lose interest in rap (which goes back to the mid-1980s, the days of Run-DMC and the Fat Boys). For example, in 1989, as part of a promotional video my French III teacher asked my class to put together to explain to French II students why they should continue their French studies past the minimum requirement of two years, I wrote Le Rap de Français III:
Nous sommes intelligents et travailleurs Voici Français III, le cinquième heure! Les étudiants ont beaucomp à faire Regardez simplement le téléviseur!*
Quelques disques nous avons joué Les grenouilles de Madame on peut voler Nous le savons car deux étaient absent Quelle surprise! Quelle évènement!
Pour obtenir un «A», comme Madame dirait Faîtes les devoirs et étudiez Vouz pouvez chercher de l'extra credit C'est la vérité, qui mentirait ici?
Nous chantons des bonnes chansons Des jeux et des boums nous avons Matthieu a vaincu trop de garces** C'est le nom de filles, quel farce!
Les étudiants d'allemand et l'espagnol Désire que leurs classes étaient si drôle N'oubliez pas: Faites Français III Nous espérons que Madame vous voit!
(Now for the English translation...)
We are intelligent and hard-working This is French III, fifth hour! There are so many things we can do Just watch the TV!*
We played some records We can throw Madame's frogs around We know this because two are missing What a surprise! What a happening!
To get an "A", as Madame would say, Do your homework and study You can get extra credit That's the truth; who would lie (to you) here?
We sing some good songs We have parties and games Matt Paletz conquered too many prostitutes** No, seriously, he calls girls in our class that--what a farce!
Students in German and Spanish classes Wish that their classes were this much fun Don't forget: Take French III We hope that Madame sees you (next year)!
* When I wrote this rap, I envisioned that in the video, students would see footage of students playing games, listening to music, throwing frogs, and of course, learning French. ** This line refers to what Matt Paletz had said of French Post-Impressionist painter Paul Gauguin ("He vaincred too many garces") after Mme. Orlich said that Gauguin died of syphilis.
The Farmington School District introduced them in 1988. Our Editor looks back on two debates--one over the letters themselves and one over whether to buy a letter jacket
In the spring of 1988, the Farmington School District announced that starting in the fall of that year, its high schools would issue academic letters to those attaining a 3.3 grade point average or higher over the previous school year. According to an article written by Matt Calfin ('89) in the April 29, 1988 issue of the Catalyst, the academic letter was proposed by Assistant Superintendent Lynn Nutter, who explained, "Our main goal... was to recognize these students who are not in athletics or band."
In that same issue, Catalyst Co-Editor-in-Chief Sam Cannon ('88) wrote an editorial against academic letters, stating that academic achievement already had its share of rewards, including Phi Beta Kappa, the National Honor Society, and a better chance at going to more desirable colleges and universities. He said, "So this is what students need to perform academically, a condescending letter 'H' to fulfill the wanna-be fantasies of those who don't participate in sports or band? No, and the very suggestion is insulting."
I seriously debated buying a varsity jacket to put that letter on. I wasn't in athletics or the band, and I admit, I thought about being that first person who wore an academic letter jacket, who zigged while the others zagged, standing against the vast majority like Juror Number Eight in Twelve Angry Men.
So why didn't I get that jacket? It boiled down to a simple cost vs. benefit analysis.
Matt Paletz (who, as a member of the band, proudly wore his jacket almost every day) said his letter jacket cost him $150. Supposing I had bought my jacket in November 1988, I would have only worn the jacket from then until the end of my senior year--roughly a year and a half. $150 was--and still is--a lot of money to spend on something I would wear for such a short time.
In addition, my parents, both of whom were children of immigrants and grew up relatively poor, would have given me a long lecture about how I had my priorities screwed up, and that they would never have spent that much money in that fashion. The potential of my parents "laying a guilt trip on me" served as a hindrance.
Looking back, there are three more reasons why not buying that jacket turned out to be a good decision:
I was inducted into the National Honor Society in my senior year. While both the NHS and the academic letter had the same minimum grade point average requirement (3.3), the NHS also had a much tougher set of standards for induction (applicants also have to do well in three other areas--character, leadership and service). Once I got inducted, the academic letter didn't seem so important.
I never saw anyone wear the academic letter on a jacket or even a sweater--not Jared Goldapper, not Todd Rope, nobody.
Today, the sight of that jacket would be a depressing reminder of how much weight I've put on since high school.
In the end, the letter went in my box of high school mementos, and it only sees the light of day whenever I feel like going through that box.
If I ever have kids, then someday, I can tell them I lettered in academics. I imagine that they won't believe me, at which point I'll dig into my box of high school mementos and pull that letter out. And won't they be stunned!
(Editor's note: If you received an academic letter, and you'd like to tell G&G about what you did with yours, please feel free to comment by clicking on the "comments" link right underneath this article. All comments are subject to moderation by yours truly.)
(Editor's note #2 11-25-2011: I had said that "the sight of that jacket would be a depressing reminder of how much weight I've put on since high school." At the time that I wrote this article, in March 2010, I weighed around 188 lb, which is terrible for someone who's only 5'7" tall. I ditched regular sodas and junk food in August 2010 and weigh 164 today. So maybe that jacket, had I bought it in '88, just might have fit me now...)
"Rabo" is more than happy to share other mementos of his. You may be surprised at what he decided to show you.
Over the four years I attended Harrison High School, I saved certain things from those years as mementos. You've already seen a few of them in other G&G Time Capsule articles (my "Farewell to 1987" paper, my senior vice-president campaign flyers, and my academic letter).
Here are the rest. Back in 2000, I didn't have a scanner, and as for digital cameras, those would have been very expensive and poor in picture quality back then. Anyway, I thought I'd scan or take pictures of some of my other high school mementos in case you don't have them, forgot they ever existed, or never saw them to begin with.
Some of you may have had Mrs. Sparrow for some English class or another, and a few of you may remember that she was known as the "Ditto Queen." In my A.P. English 12 class, she handed us photocopies of everything from psychological tests to poems to selected pages from a little-known 1983 paperback book, Never Make Love In a Suit of Armor (and Other Undiscovered Letters). That book parodied various literary characters from ancient and medieval as well as modern times. Here are a couple "letters" she copied from that book for us:
One is addressed from Menelaus to Helen of Troy (from Greek mythology). It is based on a line from Christopher Marlowe's play, The Tragical History of Dr. Faustus, when Faustus says of Helen, "Was this the face that launched a thousand ships...?" Menelaus was Helen's first husband.
The other is based on the first scene of the fifth act of Shakespeare's Hamlet. It is addressed from Laertes to the sexton at the graveyard where poor Yorick rests, not so much in peace, but in pieces. (Click on the image below to enlarge it; same goes for other images in this article.)
In '87 and '88, someone put up these cards on the walls--one for each and every student. I'm sure they were in celebration of the Hawks going to the Silverdome in those years (but I'm sure they didn't do it in '89 when they also went to the 'Dome). I don't know who did it--the Student Council, the school administration, whoever--but I thought it was a nice gesture in recognition of Harrison's "12th Man."
Below are the Swing-Out programs from each of our four years.
I designed the one for 1990, but my favorite is the one Neils Schroeder designed in 1988.
Let me talk a bit about my 1990 design:
The letters in "SWING OUT" appear the way they appear for a reason--not just to emphasize the celebratory atmosphere, but because there was this kiddie game show my little brother and I liked watching together called Fun House (that show was kind of like Nickelodeon's Double Dare). The Fun House logo was one inspiration, to emphasize the idea that graduation time was going to be a fun time for us. The font used in the opening credits from the 1978 film Grease was also an inspiration.
One thing I've never told anyone about my 1990 design was that there was something more I wanted to do with it. The top of the "T" in "SWING OUT" was supposed to be formed by two doors swinging open (that's what I thought "Swing Out" meant) and there'd be grads in their caps and gowns rushing out that door and down the "road." Truth be told, I'm not great at drawing people so I just left the "road" empty.
I had three art classes while at Harrison, and while most of the things I made in those classes are long gone, there are two pieces of artwork I still held on to:
Analogous Colors from my Design class (October 1986):
The Design course had a series of projects, and each project had a set of requirements. Most projects were liquid tempera paint on paper. In this project, we had to use the scale shape, use analogous colors (colors that are found side by side on the color wheel; I selected green, yellow-green and yellow), various tints, shades and tones of those three colors had to be used, and the scales had to be divided "interestingly". The scales by themselves were not impressive, the triangle by itself was just a triangle, and the colors by themselves weren't enough, but then suddenly, everything just came together. That's the best thing I can say about this; it's just awesome when everything just comes together.
Michelob from Studio class (September 1988):
Here's an unusual piece that was selected to be displayed at Creativity Springs Alive VI at Harrison High on April 7, 1989. It started with a linoleum cut of the goblets on a countertop, then paint of various colors was applied to the lino cut, which was then "stamped" onto a piece of paper. Then I pasted a Michelob bottle from a magazine ad above it, positioned so the drop would fall into one of the goblets beneath it. Today, it hangs on a wall in my kitchen.
Remember those T-shirts some of us bought at the end of the year? I still have mine.
Of course, if you're in the Class of 1990, and you want to see where your name is, here's a closer look at that "90" for you:
One more thing: The towel from the All Night Party. I'll be honest, I haven't figured out what to use it for except to pad/protect my diplomas. It was too thin to be used for drying off after a shower.
Harrison had three publications when we were freshmen, and three when we graduated. Have the fall of printed media and the rise of online publishing changed that?
Over the last 10 years, we, as a society, have seen our mass media take a massive evolutionary step, thanks to the Internet.
Consider what you do when you want to read the news. You are far more likely to go on the World Wide Web (where the top cable TV news channels have their own web sites, as do many newspapers and magazines). The simple reason is that those web sites convey stories far more quickly than printed media ever could; as a consequence, subscriptions to newspapers and magazines have declined significantly.
Some newspapers don't even run every day anymore. On December 1, 2008, the Daily Tribune, a newspaper covering southeastern Oakland County, stopped publishing papers on Mondays and Tuesdays. On June 1, 2009, the Bay City Times, Flint Journal and Saginaw News all dropped Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday editions. The Ann Arbor News ceased printing papers in July 2009. (See this list of newspapers from across the United States that either cut circulation days or completely shut down during 2008 and early 2009.)
Also, U.S. News and World Report, once the country's #3 weekly newsmagazine, cut its publication frequency twice in 2008--first to biweekly in June, then monthly in November.
The decline of printed media made me wonder how Harrison High's printed publications have continued to function.
One publication that will continue intact is the Retrospect. The reason is that, like any yearbook, it serves as a keepsake. No web site can serve in that way, and you can't autograph a web site in your handwriting. The only change that has taken place over the last 20 years is that it now goes to press at the end of March and is distributed by the end of the school year, according to current yearbook advisor Lisa Hansen. Although the new timetable means no coverage of anything that may happen in April or May, as well as Swing-Out and graduation night, I like the change, because it ensures that the yearbook will be completed; waiting until after graduation night (to get the yearbook finished) introduces the risk of the project being abandoned while it is still incomplete. (That risk reared its ugly head with the 1989 Retrospect and very nearly occurred with the 1986 edition as well.) Also, students can autograph each other's yearbooks before they part ways, while they are all in school; waiting until Homecoming to release the yearbook greatly reduces opportunities to do so.
HHS still produces a newspaper called the Catalyst (yes, it was a newsmagazine during our final two years at HHS, but it went back to being a newspaper later in the '90s). The publication frequency was generally every 4-5 weeks while we attended. By contrast, according to Hansen (who is also the Catalyst's advisor), only a few issues were produced during the 2009-10 school year because the newspaper program was placed on hiatus for about a year and she only had six students to work with once it came off hiatus. In the past, Hansen has discussed the possibility of switching to an online edition with the advisor of Farmington High's newspaper, but told me, "This was not discussed this year... I do not see it happening in the next two years."
The school's literary magazine is no longer called the Aquilla. It is now called The Looking Glass. I wondered how any literary magazine could survive in a world where people can post and share their stories so freely on the Internet at no cost to them. From a writer's point of view, one could just put an essay or poem online without anyone picking it apart or ridiculing it beforehand. Writers can select the size of the audience they want to share their work with online--either with just their friends using a social networking site like Facebook, or potentially the whole world using a blog. And from a reader's standpoint, the Internet is rife with all manner of creativity--comic strips, art and music as well as creative writing--that people can access for free; whereas 20 years ago, you would have had to pay a few bucks just to read the Aquilla.
According to The Looking Glass' present advisor, Kimmi Dukes, it has changed its name a few times (before adopting its present name in 2002, it was called Equinox, and Paradox before that). It is still published annually. Dukes says that getting students to submit their work remains difficult. "We try to get the English teachers to encourage their writers to submit their best work and offer extra credit; unfortunately, we receive very little support, even though (English) is one of the biggest departments at HHS. We even tried online submissions."
Obviously, Green & Gold Digest didn't become Harrison's fourth publication. But suppose it did. What would have happened to G&G over the last ten years? I honestly believe it would have become an online publication. Why? As with any online publication in general, advantages include being able to post a story quickly and (if necessary) correct it quickly, instead of making readers wait until the publisher has enough stories with which to complete a printed issue. But there's a bigger reason: Now that people can get all kinds of news, information and entertainment on the Web for free, I would be insane to charge other people money to read this stuff. Looking back, I'm glad I never charged a penny.
Today, the Internet offers us the means to easily and effectively share ideas and stories. 20 years ago, the only ways to do so were relatively expensive and time-consuming (especially if you wanted to start up a new publication from scratch). Now, we have blogs to post about what's been going on in the world and our perspectives about those goings-on, and social networking sites to help share them. Harrison's three publications have survived, but I believe that two (the Catalyst and the Looking Glass) will have to survive in an online form.
Our Editor closes out this issue with an examination of how we see each other
Over the last ten years, we, the Class of 1990, have lost two of our own (Brian Passerman on April 24, 2002; and Andy Jones on November 15, 2009). Some of us have also lost parents, grandparents and other loved ones during that time as well.
Having lost my father in 1994 and my grandmother in 2004, I've already been thinking about how people are remembered when they die. At any given funeral, you hear about what kind of people they were. You hear words like hard-working, selfless, kind, thoughtful, inspirational.
At no funeral do you hear about what car they drove, or the kind of house they lived in, or where they lived.
Why? The answer is a lot simpler than you may have thought:
In the end, you're not judged by what you have; you're judged by what you leave behind.
Why, then, don't we judge ourselves the same way in life the way we do others when they die?
I understand that the will to improve ourselves and compete against one another is part of the human condition. I really do. I've heard of Social Darwinism. The technology we have today is an example of that will to improve. Thanks to all kinds of technology, many of us enjoy a standard of living that royalty could not have aspired to 100 years ago.
But it's frustrating anytime I hear people talk about this Blackberry or that iPhone, or the size of their HDTV, or that they wouldn't be caught dead driving this car or wearing that shirt.
What we need to place a higher priority on is the things we will ultimately be remembered by:
Children: Now there's a legacy you'll get to leave behind. Make every effort to make sure they turn out even better than you did.
Work: Not the job you have, but the work it takes to do the job. It's amazing how many people want a job, but then don't do whatever work is mentioned in the job description. You want to teach the value of hard work to any children you may have, too. Max Ehrmann wrote in his poem, Desiderata: "Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time."
Behavior/demeanor: It occurred to me one day that you never get a second chance to make a good final impression. Therefore, do not do--or even think of doing--anything that may lead people to judge you in an undesirable fashion. I am reminded of people who put their own fortunes above the well-being of others (Stewart Parnell, Bernie Madoff) or who just couldn't leave well enough alone and got really greedy (Barry Bonds, NBA referee Tim Donaghy). I also think of people who failed to face up to their problems and instead resorted to crime and violence, destroying their families and themselves (Michael Waleskowski is a local example that comes to mind). I would not want anyone to leave any of these undesirable final impressions.
Now, if you have a BMW, that's great. Congratulations. Thank you for not making too big a deal about it.
Instead, just remember that you will be remembered, not by what you have, but what you leave behind.
