“Salvation” Writing Topics

“SALVATION”
Writing Topics
3)
It has always been a tradition in my High School for a student in the Junior class to write a letter for all the Seniors that are graduating. During the Awarding of Diplomas ceremony, a student would be called to the stage, and read this letter, which was of course, previously approved by the school’s headmistress.
All my friends were Seniors. It has been like that my whole life; I always got along better with those some years older than me. Actually all my friends had been graduating from school for the previous 5 years, and this particular group was going to leave me with practically no friends there.
There was really no one else who could write this letter. They were all my friends. And there has always been some rivalry between my group and theirs, and although they did get along with some other juniors, there was really no one else who could have been appropriate for the job.
Unfortunately, my letter was not approved. It did not say anything bad, but apparently, the fact that I didn’t have many friends in my own group, and the fact that I mentioned somebody’s constant cigarette smoking, made the school look bad.
I wasn’t asked to edit my letter, I was simply asked not to read it at all.
We all found out about this decision the day of the ceremony, and as much as I was upset about it, I didn’t really make a big deal out of this censorship, in one hand, because I understood (this was a religious school, the group graduating was one of the most problematic groups in the school’s history, and I was one of the most problematic students in their history too. So I absolutely understood and predicted some hostility from their side), and on the other hand, it’s not like I was dying to be on stage, I actually really did not want to, but was somehow pressured by my senior friends to do this, since it was a nice farewell tradition.
My graduating friends were absolutely offended and outraged. They made a huge scandal, confronted the headmistress asking for explanations and for some solution but of course didn’t find any, and unsatisfied with the headmistress response, left the office rudely.
I remember discussing this situation in the backyard during the break. We were all offended because, no one else could have written a letter, and this would be the first time a group graduates without being fare welled by another student. I remember telling them not to make a big deal, that I could read it during the dinner’s Ceremony, but they were not satisfied, and felt censored.
So they day finished, and in the evening we went to the diploma award ceremony. Once all diplomas were handled to the seniors, while they were all on the stage, they started calling my name. Everyone knew what was going on, I didn’t know what to do. I was sitting with the rest of the audience, hearing my name, my nickname rather, over and over. Shortly the whole audience (who were very well aware of what had happened) joined them, and the truth is, I got so nervous, I don’t really remember how I decided to stand up and go on stage.
Suddenly, whether I read or not an innocent farewell letter, had become a political issue, and I was not prepared for this. Especially with the problems I already had in this school, and considering the fact that I still had to stay there for one more year, I really didn’t want to ruin my situation.
They kept calling me, just like they kept calling Hughes in “Salvation”. Every second had the weight of a century and the pressure of some resolution being needed immediately. Parents, kids, even teachers, and off course my friends, they all kept calling my name, and started clapping as I finally approached the stage.
Nobody stopped me, so I assumed it was ok. On a “last day” some kind of decompressing energy happens, and one feels like everything is lighter, and everything is more tolerable. I guess I rested on this fact to make myself to go up there. I knew it wasn’t quite right, because I was already told not to go, repeatedly, by all the school authorities, and even though I knew it wasn’t quite fair, I accepted that decision. Now, I was walking through the rows of chairs, with everybody in that theatre calling my name, and clapping. I felt so pressured I lost parameters of what I knew I should do, and I went and read it.
It was a complete success. It was an innocent letter, with a few innocent jokes. Overall a cute innocent teenage letter, which everyone loved: parents, teachers and most importantly my friends. Everyone loved it, except the school authorities. They wouldn’t forgive this betrayal, this going behind their backs and against their orders, regardless of the content of the letter. And even though I didn’t consider this as such a disrespect, I was kicked out of this school, and as a consequence, my mother who worked there, had to quit.
Of course, there was a big reaction by part of everyone in that that school in my defense, the streets, and walls were written with graffitis expressing discontent and unfairness, and there were riots in the classrooms, etc. etc., but nothing happened. I do understand it, because it was a stupid school, ran by stupid people, very narrow minded, very catholic… one couldn’t expect much more, and I should have known better. And by being pressured I went directly were I should have known I was going.
If I had to be honest, I would say I was weak. I tried to do the cool thing instead of the cold premeditated, intelligent, preventive one. I guess that’s what my personality was about in my teenage years. I guess I learned something from that. One tends to loose oneself under pressure, and it’s always good to keep in mind one’s objectives, which don’t necessarily have anything to do with what we would like ourselves to be.
Now the time has passed, and the story became some sort of a legend. That was the last group to read a letter to the seniors in the school’s history, and you can still read in the walls of the nearby streets my name, next to a “come back”. In the end I guess that’s what I really wanted… and that’s what I got.