The author, John Marek, is a writer and CEO of the Anson Economic Development Partnership.
The days and weeks leading up to my high school graduation exist in my memory as an indistinct blur. Prom. Class trip. Locker clean-out. Senior luncheon. Snakebite. Drowning. But I remember nothing, absolutely nothing, about the actual graduation ceremony. I know from eyewitness accounts it was held at our football stadium, True-Lay Field (no, seriously), that it was a sea of red, and that I was there.
I graduated well outside the top of my class so I didn’t have a speaking part, and that’s probably just as well since I’m horrified to think about what I might have said. If you think I lack a filter now, you probably don’t want to hear from my 17-year-old self.
Our class trip was to King’s Island, an amusement park three hours away, near Cincinnati. The irony is that we had a better park in our backyard, but that wouldn’t have been much of a trip, would it? I imagined a busload of seniors from some Dayton school passing us on I-75 on their way to Cedar Point.
I say that snarkily, but I was on the committee that chose King’s Island. How I found my way onto that committee is beyond me, but I recall sitting in a room with about a dozen of the popular kids and thinking, what am I doing here?
There were initial thoughts about a “grander” trip – New York, Chicago and Montreal got mentions – but the committee quickly gravitated to more realistic options. King’s Island offered a cool package where they opened the park overnight for schools statewide. We would get on a bus after school on a Friday, arrive at the park around 7 p.m., make merriment all night, then board the bus again early the following day for the trip home. As might be expected, an element of the student body saw that arrangement as a prime opportunity to act up. I remember getting off the bus, heading to the bathroom right inside the park entrance, and almost choking on the smoke from certain “medicinal herbs.” All-in-all, though, the night went pretty smoothly. I hung out with my buddies, rode all the gnarliest rides, won a prize at one of the games and bought a t-shirt to prove I was there.
Our senior luncheon was held at the Catawba Island Club a few days before graduation. When I went to work there two years later, the room where we held the luncheon was called “The Tavern,” but I think it was just the “banquet room” at the time. There were probably only 100 or so seniors at the luncheon, which I know because I set that room up many times, and that was about the maximum capacity. The primary function of the luncheon was to give out the “awards” that we voted on a few weeks earlier. Accolades like “most likely to succeed,” “best student” and “class clown.” Guess which of those categories I placed in? It was also an opportunity to hand out the class t-shirts. These were shirts with the Port Clinton High School logo on the front and the names of all the graduating seniors on the back. We had pre-ordered them and could select from various colors. The vast majority of kids chose red since that was our school color. A handful chose black or navy blue, just to be different. I chose yellow because … well, because.
My buddy Carl came over the day before graduation and we took my pellet gun down to the bay to shoot cans. We came across a huge water snake in an old half-buried tire, and I shot at it a couple of times before Carl, ever the naturalist, admonished me for killing a harmless snake. Later, as we walked back to the car, another even larger snake was lying across the path. I raised my gun, but Carl picked up a long stick and said, “It’s no danger to us; all we have to do is give it a little nudge and it will slither into the weeds.” He then poked the snake with the stick, and it immediately turned and began striking at him. He ran back down the path, yelling, “Shoot it, shoot it!”
After our snake adventure at the bay, we went to Carl’s house, where we decided to take the family canoe out on a nearby pond. The pond connected to Lake Erie through a narrow passage and we paddled out onto the bigger water. But, while the pond was calm, the lake was not, and we found ourselves paddling desperately into foot-tall waves, trying to figure out how to turn around without capsizing. Now, I’m likely being a little overdramatic. I doubt the water was more than a few feet deep, we were maybe 30 yards from shore and we were both competent swimmers, but the headline, “Local Idiots Drown On Eve Of Graduation,” kept flashing before my eyes.
In addition to our full-size diplomas, we all received a laminated credit card-size version which I dutifully and inexplicably carried in my wallet for several years, as though some roving education militia was going to stop me on the street and demand proof.
These days, when advanced degrees are required for many good jobs, and a high school education is more a given than an achievement, it’s easy to be cynical about the value of a high school diploma, but studies have shown that high school graduates are more likely to be involved in their communities, volunteer and vote. They are also less likely to commit crimes or become incarcerated, and that’s not nothing.
Graduating from high school is still an important milestone that can have a significant impact on a young person’s life. It opens up doors to new opportunities and can lead to a better future. If you are a high school student, make sure to take your education seriously and work hard to graduate. It is one of the best decisions you will ever make.