This morning, while taking a headache shower, I began musing on the past. Specifically, the urge I’ve had since I turned 50 to reconnect with people and places from my past. This has intensified thanks to Facebook and its groups, in particular the group 
Westchester California Memories 1960s-1970s and the group I survived Paul Revere Junior High School!. In some ways this is odd, for I was never socially active at those times; I never had a large circle of friends, nor was I ever in the “popular” groups.
I’m finding that as I get older, my outlook towards people in my past has changed. Perhaps this is because I’ve never been the type to hold grudges. What I’ve noticed is that the clique boundaries have broken down. I’m having fun discussions with folks whom I would probably never have talked to in my youth. I might look at my yearbook and see harsh, stereotypical, and even cruel writings of the children we were then, but I haven’t seen that behavior in the adults of today. I’ve tried to figure out why this might be the case. Part of it is survival: we’ve now got the common bond of just having survived to our AARP-years. Part of it is maturity: time has shown us that the idiotic things we teased over in our youth are meaningless in the overall scheme of things; further, often those professions and behaviors that were the focus of ridicule in our youth have proven themselves to be reasonable choices. For most of us, time has tempered our view of things; our glasses to the past are definately tinted.
For me, that’s only part of it. Another part is a simple rebuilding of memories. My youth can be divided into two parts: the part in Westchester before we moved in 1972, and the part in Brentwood and the Palisades post 1972. I have very few connections and sparse memories from the pre-1972 days. I’ve been blessed to be able to reconnect with a long-lost friend within the last two years (after we lost contact for over 30 years). I’ve also discovered that some high-school friends actually were in jr. high (Orville Wright) with me in 7th grade, although we never knew it at the time; even more recently I discovered that a very very dear current friend actually attended jr. high at the same time, although I don’t think we knew each other. Still, there are a few friends from that era I would still like to find (or at least learn where they are today); perhaps I’ll do a post on the appropriate group to see if anyone knows. I’m also hoping that, from the folks active from that era, someone will actually remember me or my brother. I think that’s an underlying desire for all of us: to be remembered, hopefully in a good light. Lastly, I hoping I can fill in some of the memories I’ve forgotten.
As for the post-1972 days (Revere Jr. High and Pali Hi): again, I have very few friends from those times whom I’m still in contact with. Here’s where I’ve seen the breakdown of the cliques a lot more; in the last three years (thanks primarily to the efforts of Greg and other FB folk creating reunions in the park), I’ve made some friends from groups I was never in during high school. There have been some interesting discussions about high school and jr. high incidents and stories, and the stroll down memory lane has been fun. There are a few folks from this era I’d still like to reconnect with, but they either aren’t on FB, aren’t active on FB, or aren’t active in the waters of the net I frequent.
One thing I’ve noticed, as I’ve participated in these groups, is the impact of teachers. To those of my friends who teach: you are doing something special, and don’t realize the impact you are having on children. We have folks out in the net-o-sphere who denegrate teachers as being out solely to abuse union rules, and make money off the system. I’m sorry, but teachers wouldn’t put themselves what they go through if they didn’t care about educating children. You read these groups, and you see how people enjoy sharing the stories of their teachers—from elementary school on. There are the teachers that touched lives. There are the teachers that created lifetime memories. There are the student crushes on teachers, and there are the teachers with their idiosyncrasies that live forever in memories. These teachers have made a difference, and don’t even realize it.
If you’ve gotten this far in this post, you’re likely in the group that is starting to look back (I’m finding younger folks put the longer essays in the “tl;dr” category). If you are looking back (even if you are not acting on it), I’d love to hear your thoughts. Do you still hold on to the hurts and resentments from your youth; has age and time tempered them at all? Do you have the desire to reconnect with anyone specific, or anyone in general, from that era of your life? Tom Paxton once said, regarding nostalgia, that it’s OK to look back, as long as you don’t stare. What is your attitude towards nostalgia of your younger days; Are you averting your eyes, looking back, or staring?
