In my dusty old school folder I found a poem I had turned in for an assignment. It’s written in longhand cursive (does anybody even remember what that is?), and even though it received a grade of B+, was torn in half. For some reason I changed my mind about throwing it away and kept the awful thing. Though undated, the text itself tells me it must have been written in the 8th grade. Considering the subject matter, and the humorless nuns who filled the place, it was awful ballsy of me to turn it in!
MY SCHOOL BUILDING
Your rugged features are frightening,
You’re ugly as can be,
I hate your personality,
I think you’ve got it out for me.
I really think you’re ignorant,
And stony-faced and cold,
You always make me say “I can’t!”,
You’re impersonal and bold.
I’ve been with you for eight long years,
And hated you all the while,
Your sickening lunches psyche me out,
They look like garbage piles.
Yeah, yeah – I know it’s wretched poetry, but the sentiment still stands! I have very few good memories from my Catholic school days – which ended up being grades 1-12. My parents thought they were doing the right thing, and who knows? Perhaps attending a public school would have been even worse!
By the way, I got even with the blue-haired lunch ladies in my senior year. I did a spot-on impersonation of Roseanne Roseannadanna (from Saturday Night Live), who reported on the awful state of things in the cafeteria. It brought down the house. HA! My best comedy performance ever! I still believe the blue hair came from the toxic food fumes and not as a result of their rinse.