"Thoughtcrime does not entail death: thoughtcrime is death."
- George Orwell, 1984
My 1984 was only slightly more horrific than Orwell's visions for that year, mostly because I started my freshman year at Proviso West High School. It's nestled comfortably in the crook of the loving arm formed by a graveyard and train tracks, not quite a tin can's toss away from the Hillside garbage dump.
The ethnic makeup of my school was about 75% African American, 10% Hispanic, and the rest a smattering of Asians mixed in with the whities. Most of the kids were inner-city teens whose parents lied about their address so they wouldn't have to attend an inner-city public school and instead, turned our suburban school into an inner-city school. Crypts, Bloods, Latin Kings, that's just a sampling of the gangs, the grand total tally of the student body settling somewhere around 2,200 or so. There were TA's (truancy officers) who roamed the halls with walkie talkies and combed the parking lot in red Suburbans to assure no "funny stuff" was going on on school grounds (my words, not theirs). Of course, there was, but it was something you got used to being a part of, I s'pose.
At this time, I auditioned and was cast in a show at the Theater of Western Springs, a small group located about 15 minutes from my home in Western Springs, IL (duh.). For the next couple of years, I appeared in several productions with them and made some truly wonderful friends. This theater also holds a dear place in my heart as it was the first place I saw a real, live girl completely naked. Hey, theater folk are pretty liberated, and Carolyn West - a senior, thank you kindly - needed to make a costume change, so *woosh*! off came the whole kit as I walked around the corner. After the show in the dressing room, I apologized for walking in on her changing and *woosh*! off came the whole kit again as she laughed to prove that modesty doth ain't got no place in theater.
Hang on. I'm getting misty...
- George Orwell, 1984
My 1984 was only slightly more horrific than Orwell's visions for that year, mostly because I started my freshman year at Proviso West High School. It's nestled comfortably in the crook of the loving arm formed by a graveyard and train tracks, not quite a tin can's toss away from the Hillside garbage dump.
The ethnic makeup of my school was about 75% African American, 10% Hispanic, and the rest a smattering of Asians mixed in with the whities. Most of the kids were inner-city teens whose parents lied about their address so they wouldn't have to attend an inner-city public school and instead, turned our suburban school into an inner-city school. Crypts, Bloods, Latin Kings, that's just a sampling of the gangs, the grand total tally of the student body settling somewhere around 2,200 or so. There were TA's (truancy officers) who roamed the halls with walkie talkies and combed the parking lot in red Suburbans to assure no "funny stuff" was going on on school grounds (my words, not theirs). Of course, there was, but it was something you got used to being a part of, I s'pose.
At this time, I auditioned and was cast in a show at the Theater of Western Springs, a small group located about 15 minutes from my home in Western Springs, IL (duh.). For the next couple of years, I appeared in several productions with them and made some truly wonderful friends. This theater also holds a dear place in my heart as it was the first place I saw a real, live girl completely naked. Hey, theater folk are pretty liberated, and Carolyn West - a senior, thank you kindly - needed to make a costume change, so *woosh*! off came the whole kit as I walked around the corner. After the show in the dressing room, I apologized for walking in on her changing and *woosh*! off came the whole kit again as she laughed to prove that modesty doth ain't got no place in theater.
Hang on. I'm getting misty...
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