The Breakfast Club Syndrome

That there is good old Camden Catholic High School. A building on a few acres of ground in Cherry Hill, NJ. A school whose halls I roamed from 1986-1990. Home to the Fighting Irish. Where the words "Honor", "Faith" and "Loyalty" graced the walls. Where I met people that changed my life: Diane, Will, Toni, Jennifer ('91) and Peggy ('91). (Teresa, do not be offended...I already knew you!)

I've been thinking about those days a lot recently, as our 20 year reunion is being held this fall. (20 years...where did it go?)

I don't feel old enough to have graduated high school 20 years ago -- I feel the same as I did then. I look the same as I did then (thank you, Clinique.) I think a little differently though. It's impossible not once you've experienced more life. For example, I have a lot more confidence in who I am.

I was different kind of kid. Hell, I'm a different kind of adult. I was the kid who dyed her hair black and styled it in a cutting-edge fashion. I listened to different music. I wore flowing black dresses and combat boots. Like I said, a different kind of kid. And the worst thing you can do in high school is stand out because you're different. It wasn't always easy to be true to myself, but I did it because I knew who I was. Some people are born to be the different kid. Someone has to have purple hair.

Adult Jennifer does what she wants too, but doesn't worry about what people are saying. Adult Jennifer is happy with herself. That's how I've changed.

I think most people cheat themselves out of knowing a lot of great people in high school. There were a lot of people I didn't talk to because of the social cliques that we all fell into. As an adult, I have made contact with quite a few of these people on the Internet and I find it a shame that we never took the time to really know each other then.

It's the Breakfast Club Syndrome -- the jock will never be friends with the weird chick and the Homecoming Queen will never date the metal head. It doesn't work that way. We don't see the people underneath at that age; we see the costume, the image. And we fear reaching outside of our comfortable circle.

That's how I've changed too -- I reach now. I still wear combat boots and a nose ring, but I reach.

To my dear friends from the Camden Catholic Class of 1990...I cannot wait to see you all in October. Especially Toni, who is flying in from Arizona for the occasion. Love to you all.