We Were Marshall

June 14th marks the final day in the 51-year history for the Minutemen and Minutemaids of John Marshall High School. The Class of 2011 will be the final class that graduates from MHS. It's amazing that my high school won't exist anymore. That makes me feel really old. Sometimes, I'll run across people who say they went to Washington High School (another Portland high school that closed in 1981) and they're old as shit. Now I've been inducted into the "old ass dude who's high school doesn't exist anymore Hall of Fame."

Of course they couldn't close Jefferson High School because the students there are predominantly black and it would be another case of "white-ass Portland" hating on anybody who isn't white. You can't close Roosevelt for one reason or another (they're building is prettier). You can throw the book at Marshall, whose reputation as a school for gang bangers has only worsened since I left the halls for good in 2002. Also, who cares if we close a school down whose attendance numbers have dwindled every year for the past two decades?

Turns out that some people DO care about what happens to Marshall. But by the time they organized enough to do something about it, the school board had already put its plan in motion. We didn't have enough supporters to change the mind of the powers that be. It's really sad that I won't be able to take my kids there and tell them that this is where Dad went to school. This is where I used to play basketball at lunch. This is where that guy got shot in the cafeteria when your Aunt went here. This is where that guy got stabbed and ran to the health clinic that used to be right there. Isn't that what happens at every school?

The students don't really seem to give two shits about school now. They aren't going to class because what's the point? They're going to have all new teachers next year who won't know if they went to class or not. Brand new beginnings for these kids. Many kids have transferred out to the school they would attend next year to get a head start on making friends and learning the lay of the land. It's gotten so pathetic at Marshall that the teachers are rewarding students for coming to class on time for three weeks in a row.

So now what to do with the building? Probably nothing. Although my sister has other ideas (harassing McMenamins) and nearly no capital to do it herself. Maybe she'll write a blog post on it someday. It just seems like a waste to just let the building sit there behind a movie theater and shopping centers and let it waste away just like Washington High School. Although WHS was used to house people who left New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. So we'll wait for the next terrible natural disaster and open MHS to the stranded masses.

There will be a Tribute to Marshall on June 4th at noon. I can't go because it's my wife's birthday and I'll be working half of the day. Maybe Victory Lane will go and report. Probably not.

I'd leave you with the fight song, but to be honest, I don't know it and I'm not sure anybody else does either.

Sell Yourself

No, I'm not talking about street walking or organ sales on the black market. I've got another job interview coming up on the 9th. After the last interview (for the same position) I had a hard time figuring out why I hadn't beat out the other applicants or at the very least, the person who ended up getting the job. This person had a reputation for having attitude problems and not treating people the right way. She was up one day and down another. I was really bummed for quite awhile because all I was hearing before the interview was that the job was mine and I felt that I was the best candidate for the position.

My interview went great. I answered all of the questions to the best of my abilities and even got the trick questions they try to trip you up with. The simple things that everyone should know but nobody ever takes the time to research.

After the punch to the gut that was the "we've decided to go in a different direction" phone call, I asked myself what I could have possibly done wrong to let it slip out of my hands. I figured it was because my company has recently shown an interest in promoting women and minorities. "I'm a white guy, that's what I have against me" I told myself.

Recently, I found out that my interview wasn't as great as I thought it was. Sure I had blown them away with the knowledge of 10,000 men, but I had come across to the interviewers as "kinda dull", "not energetic", "not excited."

"Huh?" I said. I immediately knew what was interpreted from my body language and tone. I come from a family of non-smilers. It's not that we don't have a sense of humor, we're actually pretty fucking funny most of the time. Maybe we were jaded as youths or realize that the worst types of people are the ones who display fake smiles all of the time. What the hell are you so damn happy about all of the time. Life tends to suck about half of the time. This leads me to believe that they are on some kind of drug because they can't handle reality. If they were sober, they'd look just like me.

There's a few people at work who are always so damn chipper and laugh at EVERY G-D THING YOU SAY. I could say, "Man, I really don't feel good and I wish I was in bed right now" and they think it's chuckle-worthy. Follow that up with a generic response like, "yeah man that sucks." Is that a nervous reaction on their part? A twitch? All I know is that it's really annoying.

Where was I? Ah yes, we don't smile. Not like ever, but only smiling takes up about 1 percent of our total time. Unless we're drunk (likely) or hanging out together, smiling and being peppy just aren't a part of our repertoire. I'm always accused of not smiling at work or not being happy or looking pissed off. No, I'm fucking working! What's so great about work? Sure I'll ask you how your day was and pretend to care for a few minutes, but that's where it ends. I don't really want to hear about everybody's problems, I just want to do my work and go home. Now I've met some of my best friends through work and formed relationships that will probably last the rest of my life...for godsakes I met my wife there. I wouldn't give that up for anything.

What I'm trying to get at is that I forgot that while I know all of the technical aspects and requirements of the job, I forgot to sell myself. My personality. My charm. My people skills. I don't flash them often, but when I do, I tend to get along with people REALLY well. So for this upcoming interview, I'll be spending as much time researching and preparing to sell my professional self as my personal self. It's one of those life lessons I've had to learn the hard way.