Seize the Homecoming

Amber & Kate modeling mums

This past week was homecoming for all of us at Ray High School. Being a freshman I'm new to a lot of these things. One of them being mums. The Wikipedia definition of a homecoming mum is this: "Southwestern United States.The garters are then worn to the game and dance. These are usually very elaborate and consist of many ribbons and ornaments with a chrysanthemum in the center. The decorations are usually related to the wearer's interests and school." and the Urban Dictionary definition is "a big ass bow thing made out of ribbons, that you get for homecoming from your date." 
     I am one of those forever-alone girls so I figured I would just make my own mum. I am also one of those creative, outside of the box, kind of girls. So the part about my own interests really let me be creative. I don't  do sports and that's usually what is on mums so google helped none. Who wants a mum with football crap on it? Umm no one, that's who! 

     Most Fridays we have school-wide pep rallies. All the grades sit in specific sections and at the end, there is a battle cry contest. Whichever grade has the loudest and best one gets bragging rights. It's really competitive and intense. So when it was the freshman's turn, we did our best but all the upperclassmen began boo-ing us. The boo's were louder than our cheers and sent us down to the bottom. Not a cool moment for the class of 2016...
     That day on my way home I was still peeved about the pep rally. I was listening to my iPod and Newsies came on. Then it hit me like a pape to the face. Freshman are just like Newsies! Our Pulitzer is all of the upperclassmen. We have to be brave like the newsboys and let the school know that we been here!
     The following week all the freshman got their act together. We organized ourselves with the help of our Human Geography teacher, Mr. Roberts (shout-out!),who donated his classroom for all our pep rally supplies. We made signs, shredded newspapers and had lots of air horns. I also got to work on my mum. I decided it was going to be a Newsies mum. The ribbons were newspaper, the logo was on the middle  bow and the word Newsies was spelled along the center. It came out pretty well.
     Friday finally rolled around and everyone was ready for that pep rally once and for all. Right before it my friend, Amber, surprised me a mum she made for me. It was a traditional mum and when she saw the one I had made, she loved it. So did all my other theatre friends, they said they totally got it and "that's rich"! 
     So when it was the freshman's turn to do our battle cry, we threw shredded newspaper in the air, yelled at the top of our lungs and jumped up and down. We really gave it our all. Even the seniors stood up in surprise. Freshman don't do this sort of thing! When our principal was announcing the winning class she said, "This week's winners went from the bottom to the top! It's the freshman class!" The announcement was met with another flurry of newspaper and cries of joy. It was the first time ever in the history of our school that the freshman class won the homecoming pep rally. Put that in your juice box and suck it, upperclassmen! 

  

Being a Future Texan and How High School Snuck Up On Me

W. B. Ray High School

     Ever since the first day of school this year, my teachers have been telling us "You'd better start getting ready for high school. They aren't going to take the crap we put up with!". Of course that's what I heard going into middle school too. It doesn't scare me. Really it doesn't even apply to me, I'm not the kind of kid that gives crap to teachers. I make straight A's, have plenty of friends, and I even do extracurricular activities (okay, just theatre).
     So I really had no fear of high school. I figured I would follow the gifted and talented program that I've been in for eight years now and just go to the gifted and talented high school, Ray High School. This sounded like a great plan. Most of my friends we going to go there, Ray has a great theatre company, and I would continue with the IB (International Baccalaureate) program. I would live happily ever after. Until my mother started doing her research. What she found was Collegiate High School (CHS). This school is located at my local community college and at the end of my Senior year I would be getting a high school diploma and an associates degree.
     So I applied after much "encouragement" from my mother and brainwashed father. I actually tried too. Don't think I bombed that application just because I didn't want to go. I actually did my best because I can't shoot down an opportunity like that so easily. Of course I wasn't as excited as my mother, who had so much faith in what I submitted, figured that I would automatically get acceptance. Because I wasn't instantly ecstatic she figured that I didn't want to go to CHS. Like I said before, I would've liked to go to Ray but if I had gotten acceptance, I would've gone to CHS without (much) complaint.
     "High school is about your education, not your friends. I know your friends are going to Ray but you could do so well at CHS!" she said daily. After months of hearing the same lecture from my parents over and over again, I exploded. My mother and I were in the car on our way to rehearsal one night. I explained to her that I have friends going to Ray. I have friends going to and already at CHS. If I were following my friends I would have to go to Carroll, King, Moody, A.C. Jones, Ray and CHS.
     That kept her quiet for a few weeks. This past Friday was the deadline for us to get our letter from CHS. Quentin and Jonathan were friends of mine that applied and they both got letters saying that they were wanted for interviews. I got nothing. Days passed and still nothing. Mom became uneasy and I became confused. Tuesday was a meeting at Ray for future incoming freshmen and as my mother and I were about to leave I got a weird urge to check the mail. It was fate.
     In my hands with bills, junk letters and free promo crap was my CHS letter. I let my mom open it, I so didn't need to see what it said. But as she read it, her face fell. I took the letter from her and read it for myself. It turns out that I'm "not eligible" for CHS, whatever that means. Of course my mother was pissed, my dad was cool with it because I still had the great IB program at Ray and me? Well I was cool with going to Ray too.
     So that night at the Ray meeting I couldn't help looking around that huge campus and thinking "Woah, I'm going to come here for the next four years of my life?"