Since I was in the third grade, I knew I was on the "outside" looking in. I had "fiends" or rather fellow outcasts, the rejected of the clicks. It was always like that. When I got to Los Ceritos intermediate school, (yeah the one that looks like a prison) I found things hadn't changed at all. If anything they got worse. I had my two best friends, Mike Stanley and Marc Bergman. However, when we commenced High School, they went to Thousand Oaks, and I headed to Westlake.
My freshman year at Westlake, I conveniently became a faceless nobody. I did not stand out in a crowd, nor did I have any friends. If there was a poster child for loner, I was it. At this time, I never felt worse. No one to talk to, be with, chat, confide in, it was truly a pathetic state. Near the end of the year (sophomore), I was convinced by a kid that band was the place to be. So I joined band. Having missed the marching season, I worked with the concert band. While I was welcomed, I never felt included, perhaps due to the lack of any kind of self worth, or that established clicks of the band were well established. We had a rather grand time though the rest of the year. Our highlight was competition at San Fransisco. We played, were judged, and toured the sites. I looked forward to the next year.
My parents had a rather quick surprise in store for me. In stead of returning to Westlake for my junior year, the uprooted me to Southern Utah, from the comfortable Southern California. This move, in later years have dramatically influenced my life. More on that later. For my junior year at High School, even though I was not in the established clicks of that school, I was socially engaged. I was top dog, the talk of the town, the one that everyone had to be around. I knew it was because I moved in from California. What I didn't expect was that they wanted my "California Connection" to get "real drugs." This was laughable, especially since I was a "goodie two shoes". I had never taken drugs, alcohol, or tobacco in my life, and yet, I was expected, by virtue of geography, to be connected.
While this change was good in the long run, my brother and I rebelled as best we could. I went from a city population of 120,000 to a county of 20,000 and our city was just over 3,000. Needless today, culture shock was an understatement. While in this school I played in Jazz and Concert Band, and wondered why there was no Marching Band. I was placed in the "B" concert band. This band was perpetually below my talent level, and I hated ever microsecond of it. I only stayed with it because I would not be allowed in Jazz band with out participating in one of the two concert bands. I begged, I swore, but there was just convincing that band director of moving me to the "A" Band. So, I put little to no effort into it. I was constantly reminded of how little I was trying by the band director.
At this time, another extra curricular activity caught my attention - technical theater. It seemed I had a real knack for this theater work. I designed, constructed and lit sets. It was fun. It took my mind of off being suppressed in band. While my social skills and standing in prominence in my peer group were rising, I had another 180 turn coming.
Just as I was set to return as a Senior at Dixie High School, we moved to Thousand Oaks, to house sit for my grand parents. So back to Westlake for my senior year. Because I was a "move in" I wasn't there the year before to run for any of the Band Offices. I back to being welcomed, but not included. This time however, I was obnoxious. After having been on the top of the world - such that it was - I was not willingly going to be relegated to second or fourth class status.
Just to interject here, I am certain that no one else in that band would remember it that way, but these were my inner thoughts and feelings at the time.
I spent that senior year involving myself in every aspect of Marching Band, Jazz Band, and Concert Band that I had the time and energy for. At the time it seemed like a lot, now, not so much. I only give this account, simply because I recently became aware of Facebook, and love it. However, there were photo's of times past, at Westlake, and I remembered not being included in groups that are gathered in those photos. There are stories told, stories shared with each photo.
Until I became a member of Facebook, I had for all purposes, disappeared from the Alumni of Westlake High School. Basically I didn't care, and quite frankly had forgotten or suppressed most of those feelings. With the perspective of time, especially for those in those years now, cherish the great and good moments of your young life. While the trying moments can be painful, they give lessons one can't learn any other way. And in time, you will forget or suppress those moments too. I hate to use the cliche, but someday you will understand.
The Knight Hawk
P.S. for those of you whom know my identity, I mean no offense. I just had to unburden myself, and this seemed the best forum for it.
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