![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
School issues
I got an invite to a school reunion. I'm not going.
I have many complicated and stressful feelings about the private school I attended, but most of them are not good. Clearly, from the fact that there IS a reunion, and apparently a spontaneous one, not organised by the school, some of the other people who went there thought it was great, but I am full of the not having enough words to describe how dismal it was. I have never been so bored, cold, miserable, bored, uncomfortable, humiliated, oh, and did I mention bored?
You know the episode of Doctor Who where he goes into hiding as a human teacher at a boarding school in 1913? It was like that. Marginally less violent, but only marginally. And this was in the 1980's. Compulsory rifle practice in uniform. I am not kidding. (I can't actually remember now if the bayonet practice that I am thinking happened... really happened. Surely, it can't have done. Can it? ) OK, in the event of zombie apocalypse some of my school skills will probably come in very handy, but until then, I have forgotten as much as I feasibly can about my schooldays, and am working hard on forgetting the rest of it.
What baffles me now is that once I'd worked this out, I didn't simply ask to go somewhere else. I was there for six years : I could easily have changed, but I didn't. I think by the time I'd really got my head around the place a degree of learned helplessness had set in, and I just sat there like a rabbit in a box rather than getting my act together. Fortunately, I am not a natural arsonist. If I were, it would have burned to embers many years ago.
I ignored the first Facebook message (damn you Facebook!). Then I got another one. I have just managed to get my act together enough to say 'sorry, no thanks' politely to the person who contacted me: a person whose existence I had completely forgotten, but probably didn't deserve the wail of 'GO AWAYYYY!' that was my instinctive reaction...
I have many complicated and stressful feelings about the private school I attended, but most of them are not good. Clearly, from the fact that there IS a reunion, and apparently a spontaneous one, not organised by the school, some of the other people who went there thought it was great, but I am full of the not having enough words to describe how dismal it was. I have never been so bored, cold, miserable, bored, uncomfortable, humiliated, oh, and did I mention bored?
You know the episode of Doctor Who where he goes into hiding as a human teacher at a boarding school in 1913? It was like that. Marginally less violent, but only marginally. And this was in the 1980's. Compulsory rifle practice in uniform. I am not kidding. (I can't actually remember now if the bayonet practice that I am thinking happened... really happened. Surely, it can't have done. Can it? ) OK, in the event of zombie apocalypse some of my school skills will probably come in very handy, but until then, I have forgotten as much as I feasibly can about my schooldays, and am working hard on forgetting the rest of it.
What baffles me now is that once I'd worked this out, I didn't simply ask to go somewhere else. I was there for six years : I could easily have changed, but I didn't. I think by the time I'd really got my head around the place a degree of learned helplessness had set in, and I just sat there like a rabbit in a box rather than getting my act together. Fortunately, I am not a natural arsonist. If I were, it would have burned to embers many years ago.
I ignored the first Facebook message (damn you Facebook!). Then I got another one. I have just managed to get my act together enough to say 'sorry, no thanks' politely to the person who contacted me: a person whose existence I had completely forgotten, but probably didn't deserve the wail of 'GO AWAYYYY!' that was my instinctive reaction...
no subject
no subject
Annoying, stupid, snobbish place with priorities in all the stupidest places. :-/
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Not only did I get invited to a school reunion a few years back and say 'No', but I then got lectured by one of the organisers for my 'unwillingness to make an effort'... If looks could petrify, she'd be a statue just outside the Co-op.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Old Classmate: 'Wow! Bunn, you've changed....'
:-D
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
A reunion would just involve competing in the events of comparing jobs, husbands and numbers of children and neither of those subjects interest me.