- An open letter to the Appleton East Class of 2004 -
I was never the popular guy. I wanted to be… I know not EVERY teen in the early 2000s wanted that, but I did. I’d seen enough movies and TV shows to know what being popular afforded you… namely the respect… but I just wasn’t cut out for it back then. When we were all in high school, I was much too shy to try to attain such lofty goals. I was a tall, chubby-enough-to-be-morosely-uncomfortable-in-my-own-skin, fumbling but closeted gay kid. I did my best never to draw attention to myself, sometimes to my own detriment and despite how much I may have wanted it. I was called names. I was bullied. I moved through those halls more often than not with an apprehension you wouldn’t believe.
Y’see, I hated high school. Hated it. Freshman year I had maybe four friends? Three months into the school year, I pushed the best of one of those friends away for three years. And as a Sophomore? Well, that was arguably the worst year of my student life; I fit in with nobody, hung out with nobody, and I wasn’t involved in anything but tennis in the spring (and even with that, I feigned an injury halfway through the season because I found out I had to be on the team for two years to get a letter in it, so uh… there’s a truth bomb for you). It wasn’t until my Junior year that I started making real friends, and by the time Senior year came along, I was opening up.
After high school ended, everything changed for me (as I’m sure it did for many of you, as well). I shifted pretty dramatically and VERY quickly into a completely different person, one who wasn’t held back anymore by the social stigmas some of the meaner kids from our graduating class had set on me. I was free, and again, I think largely… a lot of you felt that way too.
Somehow, that was 20 years ago. I’m not dredging up the past to make anyone feel bad, and if you do, I apologize. I had my share of crappy behaviors, too; I don’t deny it. Rather, I share all of this to illustrate that, at least from a textbook perspective, I’m a prime example of the high school loner who wanted to leave it all behind and never look back. But you know what’s funny about that?
I have always looked forward to the reunions that would eventually arrive for us. Maybe it’s because I watched Romy & Michele’s High School Reunion too many times, but the idea of our class reuniting after years of falling out of touch was an idea worth being excited about. Those who knew me then, and those who know me now, understand that if nothing else, I’m a sucker for nostalgia.
At my core, for whatever reason, I am still that kid who would return to school on the first day of the year, eyes welling up with tears of excitement (and trying to blink them away) at seeing everyone again and learning about how they changed over the summer. Maybe it’s because I’ve always been drawn to a good story? Maybe that’s why I still love learning about people and what they do and what they’ve seen and where they’ve been. In high school, I hid that ‘curious’ part of myself because I was embarrassed about it. Today, pushing 39 years old? I embrace that part. And if you are one of the few people that I’ve actively stayed in touch with, or one of the 11 who showed up this past weekend for our 20-year reunion, you know that about me.
But as it were, most of our classmates weren’t at the reunion last weekend. And let me be perfectly clear: I’m not calling anyone out for that.
I’m certain a million different reasons prevented people from attending, and of those million, I’m sure at least a few hundred thousand are incredibly valid. Maybe you don’t live in Wisconsin or even the US anymore. Maybe you had to work, your kids had commitments you needed to fulfill, or you couldn’t get a sitter. Maybe you didn’t know it was happening (like me until a week before when it was texted to me as a screengrab). Maybe you only wanted to go if so-and-so was going, or you wanted to go on the condition enough people would RSVP to make it worthwhile… or… hell, maybe you flat out would have rather blinded yourself than show up.
Whatever the reason, it’s okay, and your reason is valid. But I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t bummed more people weren’t there.
I tend to wax nostalgic over high school nowadays, romanticizing it in a way that isn’t accurate or even real. After all, at our much higher attended 5-year reunion, I was casually called an f-slur by one of you as you walked past me at the bar. But it didn’t matter… partly because, y’know, hey, you technically nailed that one on the head, so, bravo! But also because that didn’t change my opinion of a reunion. Not in the slightest. I went to the lower-attended 10-year reunion, too, because how had we all changed in a DECADE? Then that question went essentially unanswered, as it were.
After 8 years of living out of state before moving back and 4 years away from Facebook (and back literally because of this post you’re reading), I thought at a 20-year reunion, it would be different. I figured I would get to see all the people I used to know and have the chance to get to know them again and maybe rekindle a few friendships. I believe in the end, for me at least, THAT is what this boils down to: what happened to the people we knew, and who are they now?
We’re only getting older. Many of us have kids (not me – I have two cats, thanks very much), and those kids are getting older, too. Our parents are getting older. Maybe we’re starting to lose people we’ve always had in our lives, and maybe that’s what has me looking back a bit more now. I moved to Wisconsin from California when I was 11 years old, just before starting 6th grade. Because of that, I lost my connection forever to the kids I had grown up with. But you guys? You replaced those kids in my life. And also, for me… I don’t want to reach my 70s and only have a few people left in my life who I can turn to and say, “Hey, remember when?”
This weekend, I didn’t know all the names. Like I said, in high school, I wasn’t popular (though I do think I was at least *liked*) and I wasn’t on a team; I was a floater amongst people I felt comfortable around (most were girls because they probably and intrinsically knew they were safe around me). This weekend, popularity didn’t matter. Or, correction, it doesn’t matter, because we’re all on the same playing field now. The facades we wore during high school have faded, and we all look the same in the light of day. And still, to me, you’re all as interesting as you were back then, if not more so, because now you’ve lived.
I want to know what you did after high school. I want to know who you married or why you didn’t and when you had kids or chose not to have kids and where you traveled and what you saw and why you went. Maybe some of you never left Appleton. Maybe some of you left and vowed to never return. Maybe some of you left for a while (hello, it’s me) and decided to return after 8 years away. Whatever the story, I want to know it. And I’m willing to bet, without a single shred of doubt, that many others do, too.
So, here’s my plea, and the point of me writing this whole thing.
This 20-year reunion was great for those of us who went;I don’t want to downplay that. Megan and team did a fine job of securing a location, reaching out to those in the class Facebook group, and keeping that group up to date. But in the end, the people who were there knew it was a bust. It’s insane that just .04% of our graduating class was in attendance, considering how, like… 40% of us live in the vicinity.
The proposal I’m making is that I will spearhead a 21-year class reunion next summer. Call it the… 20th Reunion Do-Over, I suppose. And because I am the me that I have become, I am going to make a vow right now:
I will personally reach out to each and every single one of you that I sat with in that humid, echoing, loud, BO-smelling, fluorescent-bulb-lit gymnasium 20 years ago in June of 2004 to gauge your interest in attending a reunion next year. I won’t be asking for a written-in-stone commitment right now, more of a general “Would you maybe be down to clown? And if so, do you want to be kept in the loop?”
Some of you I only ever knew by name, some of you I’m quite familiar with, and—for more of you than I probably realize—I’ve never said a damn word to you in my life. But that doesn’t matter, and this does. If you want to answer my outreach, that’s cool, and if you want to call me an f-slur and go about your way… that’s decidedly less cool, but you do you, and I’ll remember that story too, lol.
Apart from me saying ‘next summer,’ there’s not a hard date set, and there’s no specific location or time. That will all be figured out by the New Year, I promise, and that’s when the fun begins. For now, let’s call this a preliminary prodding. I like doing this stuff… I like biting off more than I can chew, and I think, in this particular instance, I’m well suited for it. Y’see, what I learned about myself as time went on, is that I’m good at bringing people together. I was never “rah-rah Appleton East,” not by any means. I didn’t care much about school spirit or what it meant, but I cared about you.
I don’t think it’s a stretch to say you all cared about others, as well.
I’ll be in touch soon.
- Sean Parker
As an aside, I’ve been adding all of you as friends at a pretty brisk rate, and if you haven’t heard from me, Facebook may have told me “you don’t know this person; get lost.” If you want to add me instead, please don’t be shy! Regardless, I’ll be working to get ahold of all of you, one way or another.
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