Give Us Free!

June 13, 2000

It's hard to believe that I graduated from high school 12 years ago today. Sadly, there's no fascinating story attached to that day. I hated high school, so that day was more like getting out of prison than anything else. It's kinda funny though, because whenever I replay that day in my head I always see it play out with the same fanfare as when Nelson Mandela got out of prison.

In my head there's a big crowd gathered in front of the Cramton Auditorium at Howard University all chanting my name. The news choppers are circling the area while in a small shanty some old woman is clutching a bible with tears welling up in her eyes as the camera pans out to show a church full of people all singing Amazing Grace. At the bottom of the screen a banner reads "Ordale Allen Freed!"

Yeah, I hated high school. It was a sanctuary for nerds that advertised itself like Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. It was to be a place where all of the kids who'd ever been bullied for being smart could come and express their own individual genius free from intimidation from lesser minds. It wasn't until after you got there that you realized it was a concentration camp. They worked the hell out of us to the point that there wasn't room for a band or a football team or a homecoming or anything not book related.

I managed to have some fun. I took full advantage of the whole "no one will judge you" thing. When we had Spirit Week, I always went all out. For Bamma Day (mismatch day) I came as "Homeless Man" wearing a dress, safety patrol belt, sweat pants, mismatched Timberlands and a towel around my neck for a cape. For Multicultural Day I dressed in army fatigues, carried my little sister's Barbie walkie talkie and a Super Soaker. I told everyone I was an Iraqi Terrorist. (This was a joke you could get away with pre-911) I even "kidnapped" my girlfriend from one of her classes. For 70s day I put on one of my grandfather's suits, some thick brown rimmed glasses with bifocals and a fedora. I put a pocketbook strap around a stuffed dog and dragged it around the school saying "Heel Duke! Down boy!" I told people I thought it was 70s Day as in "70-year old people" day. My girlfriend took the cake though. She came in a bonnet with a worn out dress and walked around school barefoot with a broom. She said that since they weren't specific, she was celebrating 1770s Day and was a slave.

Maybe it wasn't so bad after all. Who the hell am I kidding. It was horrible. I'm glad to be out!