50 for 50: 1984
YEAR: 1984
AGE: Turned 14 on Nov. 6
LOCATION: Chicago, Rascher Ave.
CUBS' RECORD: 96-65
SONGS I LIKED: "Jump" by Van Halen; "Pride (In the Name of Love)" by U2
MOVIES I SAW: "Ghostbusters," "The Karate Kid"
TV SHOWS I WATCHED: "It's Your Move," "V"
MUSIC VIDEOS I ENJOYED: "Legs" by ZZ Top; "Round and Round" by RATT
VIDEO GAMES I PLAYED: Jumpman Junior; Punch-Out
As nostalgic as I am, you might think that the end of eighth grade and graduating might have made me wistful and maybe a little sad that a chapter in my young life was concluding. I felt that when high school and college was ending and when we moved to Utah.
Fall of eighth grade started out fine, but as the school year progressed, I began feeling moodier, self-conscious, more unsure of myself, and even a little lonely. I had friends, but not a huge group that I hung out with like I would in high school.
That winter was maybe the darkest, coldest, and most pessimistic winter I remember from my childhood. Our family went on vacation that spring and got back just in time for a late Easter break. School resumed, and about five weeks remained before graduation ... and I was ready to be done.
Those last few months weren't totally bad -- there were fun moments. I learned how to golf. The eighth-grade pre-graduation dance was fun, and I actually danced! I went to Six Flags Great America on kind of a parish youth trip with some classmates and had a blast.
But the more I think about it, what did I do all that summer after graduation? Played Dungeons and Dragons, played a lot of video games, and watched music videos and "All My Children" every day. I can remember hanging out with my school friends at times and having fun -- I didn't withdraw from the people I felt closest to by any means (and would need a couple of those friends to start high school). I don't regard the summer of 1984 as a boring summer or felt that I was miserable; it was just ... unproductive?
About a week after graduation, a school friend and I rode our bikes to the Norridge Theater to see "The Karate Kid," and we passed a classmate's house along the way who was having a big graduation party, where we saw what seemed like at least half our class. Knowing that we weren't invited was crushing. I mean, I don't know if I would have wanted to go anyway, and the kid was a good guy, but what was wrong with me that I wasn't on the guest list? Riding by, I couldn't help but think that classmates saw us and thought, "Look, they weren't invited."
That story seems silly now -- and admittedly, something I haven't thought about in long time and harbor no bitterness over, plus I was kind of a dork back then -- but to a 13-year-old, it was tough. You want to fit in so badly, and you don't realize that it's OK not to fit in.
That lesson is something I try to remind myself as the dad of two teenage boys. Michael was so ready to bolt from eighth grade, even though he liked his teachers, was part of a really close, large group of friends, and was coming from a school that was squarely focused on the whole child. Many kids don't have it so lucky, but he was, both understandably and inexplicably, ready for something different. He's still friends with that group, and I'm sure someday he'll feel nostalgic for his grade school, but the next chapter couldn't come faster for him.
I like to think that the world is easier for today's teenagers. The world might be wacko, but interpersonally people seem to be more respectful of each other, more thoughtful in how their actions affect others. And teens are more encouraged to embrace their uniqueness and not try to just clique in. However, teenagers are still teenagers -- painfully more aware of the world and their place within it, but still learning emotionally how to deal with that new knowledge. So when my boys are in a mood and can't explain why, I need to remember that it comes with the territory in this age, and often, it's something they just need to figure out on their own.
Three months after graduation, I was a freshman. High school was no emotional walk in the park either, but I never felt isolated or dorky, instead usually feeling like I belonged. And no matter how eager I was for college, I wasn't in rush for high school to end, because I knew I'd miss my friends, miss my family, and miss the comfort not quite being a kid anymore. None of that was on the line when I was 13.
I wouldn't give up 1984 for anything, because there still was so much that was memorable and fun. However, as I look back now, 1984 was oddly weird as embarked on my teen years. Perhaps that's the best definition for navigating life as (or with) a teenager: oddly weird.
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