ACCOMPLISHED CV GRADS READY FOR THE CHALLENGES OF THE WORLD

Class of '99

Special graduation edition

Central Valley High School, much like the Holy Roman Empire, does not fit its name in the least. The complete lack of a centralized layout makes the daily trek between classes a veritable Homeric epic. The same goes for the Valley part of the name. Far from the proud, glacier-carved troughs one normally associates with the word, the halls at CV are anything but. These halls, that a Realtor would describe as "cozy," pack so many students per inch that even thin and wiry learners find traversing them a feat. And so it was in these halls that I found myself walking on the first day of my high school career. I was actually inside the blue roofed, brick fortress I had passed so many times before, never actually believing I would enter. The walls were advertising something called a "mixer" in luminous paint. I wasn't sure whether this mixer was some sort of fiendish hazing ritual or a blended drink. Actually, the mixer was just one of a whole slew of new experiences that greeted the wretched sophomores of the class of 1999. As well as new classes, new teachers and a new building we encountered quite a few differences from junior high. For starters, there was the mad dash down Sullivan at 7:30 a.m. For those unfamiliar with this situation it involves careening down the road, desperately trying to get to class on time and usually being unsuccessful. Every CV student has experienced this at least once (anyone who denies it is lying). High school sports were a different matter as well. Everything was bigger; the playing fields, the crowds and especially the players. It was sometimes hard to believe it was one's own classmates down there and not a gaggle of professional athletes. I won't go into possibly the biggest change in high school - driver's education) - as it would dredge up too many horrifying memories. For most juniors of CV past, the second year at the school was much less foreign, not the drastic change that distinguished the sophomore year. As with everything else, the class of 1999 did not follow the pattern set by its predecessors. For it was our junior year in which the dreaded four-period day was unleashed. Instead of the comfortable 45-minute classes we were used to, we now had a gargantuan hour and 15 minutes per class. This was the year the football and wrestling teams won state championships while the band distinguished itself by winning numerous competitions. It was also our junior year in which many of our classmates began branching out from CV to the Skills Center and Running Start. After our junior year was finished and the summer break passed we returned to school with the intoxicating power of being seniors. Our brashness soon faded, however, as we realized we hadn't graduated yet. Trying to name all the accomplishments this class had over the past year would be like counting the number of dents and dings in the parking lot, a futile task. We definitely left a lasting legacy. Can the school survive without us? Our last few weeks of crowded halls, "CV This Morning" news shows and long classes are rapidly depleting. The sun is setting on the school year that was never supposed to come. We are poised to be hurled out into the world, whether our futures are certain or a surprise. It is doubtful our paths will ever coalesce again, but for one brief illuminated moment we were the Central Valley High School class of 1999.

Copyright 1999 Cowles Publishing Company
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved.