What High School Has Been Worth: A Language Perspective

It occured to me as I was reading this post that high school has had a tremendous impact on my character and that its lessons are applicable to many situations in life. Granted, what shoes one wears to prom are not going to matter five years down the line (unless said person really attaches to it as a point of pride or shame, in which case said person should move on). But it's quite difficult to grasp all of the different ways the high school experience has changed me and educated me as a student as well as a decent human being. Therefore, given the language and linguistics umbrella of this particular blog, I'll be highlighting some of the ways high school has altered the world around me and how I look at it, either due to language or through language and languages themselves. And for all you arts and/or politics people, stick around: these two areas do not escape the realm of how we speak or look at the world, and they've been critical points of development for me.

- Most simply, high school has taught me to appreciate language on a very hightened scale. As I've said before, I had never been interested in any tongues but French and English before high school and the Glenbrook Academy (I'm gonna miss you guys!) has profoundly widened my gaze and appreciation. I've come out the back end (almost) wanting to learn Arabic and go to Colombia (what! Aren't there drugs there? In terms of crime, It's actually quite improved, and always has been a beautiful country!). There's something about an education firmly rooted in getting you out of your comfort zone with 29 other kids in the same confusion-rife boat.

- In terms of theatre and acting, my career in high school has helped me develop a whole personal language--a continuously growing method of communicating with myself and of accessing untapped sources of personal creativity--that did not exist while I was discovering acting in middle school. At first, when very confident of the job you're doing in those early years, you try to act as well and as naturally as you can and go out and enjoy family praise when the play is all over. That all changed once I came to Glenbrook South, however: after a brief period of not knowing whether or not I wanted to act ever again in my Freshman year, I quickly realized the year after that it was actually a place of intense personal growth for me. When subjects in school are equated with duldrum in one's head, he or she hpoefully turns to something to have pride in and put an inordinate amount of work into. As I discovered with my rendition of Puck in "A Midsummer Night's Dream", any acting that I'm going to be proud of results from 1) staying in character backstage and making a fool of myself, but being in the character's mindset nontheless, and 2) always finding new ways to effectively put me in the character's P.O.V., especially if a faux pas on-stage frazzles me a bit. I had a brutal entrance to opening night in this year's Musical, "Chicago," but through character-entering rituals and exploring the depths of our set, I found a way to get my marbles back by the end of the show. It's like a writer trying to get out of writer's block, or a painter coming off a period of zero inspiration. As described here by Viggo Mortensen, all art forms are connected, and in my personal opinion, the ways in which we improve our ability in respect to them are intertwined and can grow until we die (much like languages!).

- I've heard people say many times over that politics are for people with enormous egos and connections. High school politics are certainly toned down from that commonly-accepted line of thinking. We don't all have egos the size of an Ice-Aged glacier and money in places as far away as Bond-esque off-shore bank accounts and as close as stashes hidden in the girl's water polo locker room. All the same, I learned something about self-respresentation, and what language I want to use when referring to myself and my core values, through student government. In fact, this discovery eventually led me out of the student government system, more or less, by the end of senior year. I came in as a Freshman president elected on a platform of equal representation in the Student Council itself and of character being more important than any former middle-schooler's "experience."
I probably came off as a little snoot, now that I look back on it. But then just as now, I thoroughly meant what I said about my goals for the student body.
In any event, I ended up learning that as far as student affairs go, no title designates one person more power than the next (until you become the school president, whereupon you've got to have a good grasp of everything. And our president is 100% doing so now). But I found that disheartening, in a sense; the position I was running for really just made me a voice with a name, not what the students expected given the meaning of my title. Granted, I took this all a little too seriously for a freshman/sophomore, but it got me thinking about truth and honesty.
My decision, in the name of honesty, was to run for representative the next year, because that's all I would be in the long run. And I expressed that in my speech. And...although I got elected, what I heard shortly afterward was that it sounded like a defeat speech. Almost like a concession to a grim reality that was neither necessarily the truth nor what the students wanted to hear.
And therein lay my self-discovery: I'm not exactly meant for politics. I may be too honest, I respect and follow only "just" authorities (as I deem them to be...very flawed and subjective, eh?), and although I only want to serve the non-represetative, non-political people--there's some gene in my brain that has unconsciously related administrators to despots when I've made speeches--I end up telling them exactly what they don't want on occasion; brouhaha is not exactly my strong suit.
But I learned something in all that! My prose voice is irreverant; I would drown in a career or politics; honesty is, in the long term, the best course of action; and politics is a great breeding ground for self-discovery. Within PoliSci, it's as if there is a constant reposing of this question: are you in it for you, or are you in it for the people? And, if you are in it for the people, how happy does that make you in the long term?
So I commend today's politicians for, hopefully, sticking with something that truly makes them happy.

--After all, just like for many of us actors, it doesn't always pay big dividends.

How about you, readers? What did high school teach you about how you speak and think as a whole person? Did you come out of it all feeling more confident or a thousand times more confused? And this is one I'll be able to answer in approximately one month...
Are you happy it's over?!?

Goodnight everybody, and Happy Mother's Day!
Buenas Noches a todos, y Feliz Dia de la Madre!
Bonsoir a tous, et Bonne Fete des Meres!