My wife and
I live two blocks from a high school.
The principal believes in being a good neighbor, so hosts occasional
meetings where nearby residents can express concerns about the school, such as noisy
bells, weekend construction, or student littering.
The most
recent meeting was a few days ago. I couldn’t
attend but participated in an on-line discussion about the topics the neighbors
wished addressed.
The exchange
began with complaints about students speeding through the adjoining
neighborhood. Living on one of the
primary streets serving the school, I understood the reasons for the unease. A range of solutions from speed bumps to
enforcement were offered.
It was a
discussion that could have happened in thousands of American communities. Some of the ideas put forth were fine, other
were flawed. I’ll provide my take on the
discussion, but not until my next post.
Today, I want
to explore the direction taken by the conversation after the traffic issue was
mostly exhausted. Several neighbors
suggested that the campus be closed so students couldn’t leave at
lunchtime. Others pushed for a stricter
dress code. Still others encouraged a
crackdown on public displays of affection.
The latter two were apparently offered in the hope that stricter
boundaries in some aspects of school life would carry over into improved
behavior in other aspects such as driving.
I don’t have
strong opinions on closed campuses, dress codes, or public displays of
affection. I suspect they wouldn’t
provide the benefits for which the neighbors are hoping, but am otherwise
content to rely on the professional judgment of the school administrators. But I was astonished that my neighbors, many
of whom are my contemporaries, would express strong opinions in favor of
reducing the freedoms of students.
My high
school years spanned the transition from the 60s to the 70s. It was the high school students of that
generation who, taking their lead from the Vietnam War protests and a broad
discontent with the status quo on college campuses, argued, often successfully,
for open campuses, relaxed dress codes, and other softened rules.
At my high
school, many of those battles were won during my junior and senior years.
My senior
year was the first year of an open campus, with students allowed to drive to
the nearby McDonalds for lunch rather than partaking of cafeteria fare.
During my junior
year, the rule on skirt length was that the hem could be no more than two
inches from the floor when the girl was kneeling on the floor. I remember an aging Spanish teacher looming
over a kneeling student, lecturing the class on the need for modest attire as
she waved the yardstick with which she intended to check for the two
inches. By my senior year, that
disturbing picture was in the past.
During my
junior year, I remember the vice principal roaming the halls, looking for hand
holding which he could break up. By my
senior year, hand holding was rampant, along with perhaps a bit more in the quiet
corners away from the ebb and flow of school hallways.
It was a
time of change, change that still affects our world.
None of this
is intended to imply that I was a ringleader for social change. Instead, I was more of a bewildered
observer. I was surprised when a girl
who I considered quiet and generally unremarkable unexpectedly treated me with
disdain for not agreeing that school be cancelled because of Janis Joplin’s
death.
I assumed
another student, who I found a meek wallflower and only knew because we had
adjoining seats in a Health and Safety class, had disappeared from my life
forever when her family moved away after our freshman year. But she resurfaced a half-dozen years during
my time at Cal. She was the leader of the
Young Spartacus League on campus, disrupting the classes of professors she
found insufficiently supportive of communist doctrine.
My only use
of the open campus rule was to drive to the nearby junior college to take an Introductory
Calculus class.
Perhaps the only
social change in which I had any role was the opening of the central lawn at the
high school. Throughout the history of
the school, the grass had been Senior Lawn, with only seniors allowed to loll
on the grass during lunch or to cut through on their way to class.
It was my
class of seniors who voluntarily dropped the barrier, allowing all classes to
use the lawn. It was a change that I
supported, although only from the back row.
And even then, my motives weren’t entirely altruistic. I was a member of a social group with a
number of attractive sophomore and junior girls. It seemed appealing to spend my senior year
hanging out on the grass with some of those young ladies. (Acknowledgment: I’m now married to one of
the sophomores.)
Even though
I wasn’t much of a participant, I recognize the value of those times. Not every effected social change was
necessary or meaningful, but some were.
And we have greater freedoms today because of those times.
Having
experienced that era of student activism, it was strange to see the calls for
rolling back some of those freedoms coming from folks who are of my
generation. I would have expected that being
young in the 60s and 70s would have imparted a lifelong bias in favor of
hard-won freedoms. But I seem have been
wrong. (A cousin, to whom I had
described my wonderment, said that having children, which I don’t, changes
perspectives in a hurry. He’s probably
right, but I still find the changes sad.)
Looking
back, I can also see that my urbanism may be a distant reflection of the 60s
and 70s. With its tweaking of the nose
of authority by challenging the shibboleths of suburbia, by pushing for an independent
plan of the Sonoma Marin Fairgrounds, by advocating for block parties, and by
many more acts questioning the status quo, urbanism is my way of finally
arriving at the barricades, forty-five years late.
I’m okay
with my tardiness. With all due respect
to those who argued for open campuses or for honoring Janis Joplin forty-years
ago, I think urbanism, with its focus on climate change, water conservation,
and fiscal sustainability, is the more important issue. I may have been late, but it was only because
I was awaiting the right cause.
Although if
someone knows of another Senior Lawn that should be opened to all, I could be
coerced into taking part.
Next time, I’ll tackle the traffic safety
issues raised by my neighbors.
As always,
your questions or comments will be appreciated.
Please comment below or email me.
And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)
No comments:
Post a Comment