The Final Graduation

“Where’s my Scantron?”   Bellowed out from the car parked opposite of me.  I recognized Liz and Pam, driver and passenger, but I couldn’t make out the person who was sitting behind Pam.

I got out of my car, ready to greet my dear colleagues whom I haven’t seen in almost a year when the unknown man revealed himself.

“KEN!”  I yelled.

“Where’s my Scantron?”  He replied back.

We laughed.  I haven’t seen Ken in almost 3 years.  Last I remembered seeing him was when I assisted him in a failed attempt in procuring a Scantron machine for his new school from the recently closed high school seminary, Archbishop Quigley.  Ken was my chemistry teacher who then became my colleague when I taught at the last year of Quigley.

“It’s great seeing you again Ken.”

“You too.” He replied.

We greeted each one another, embracing each other as days of old, before we headed into the church. Standing out of the Bridgeport church were Fr. Zi and Fr. Kalchik, greeting the Quigley family as we entered St. Barbara.

Three Junes have passed since the end of Camelot. And each year, we still come together as a family, thanks to the still active parents, to honor those who never had the opportunity to graduate the hallowed halls and chapel of Quigley Seminary. Tonight will be bitter sweet as we congratulate the final freshman class and graduate the last class.

One by one, students of old would gather in the warm Bridgeport church.  Entering with them would either be their parents, still very active in keeping the spirit of Quigley alive, or a gently aged face of a fellow colleague, faculty member and friend. As each person joined the reunited family, the noise level of the church grew louder with great joy and tribulation.  Long embraces were shared as each person attempted to throw in a warm exchange.  Happiness was present all over, even when the ever grieving sadness of Quigley still lives deep in our hearts.

As mass started, almost 70 people assembled; among them were 13 faculty members, myself included, and a dozen graduating freshmen.  The rest were mixed between parents and graduates dating back to the early 90s.  We all assembled as one Quigley family in St. Barbara’s to congratulate and honor the graduating, though then freshmen, class of 2010.  But we also gathered to remember the greatness of Quigley Seminary.

Sitting in the right side, I couldn’t help myself from having constant flashbacks of my days at Quigley, sitting in the chapel of St. James, both as a student and a faculty member, as we celebrated mass.  Though in different times and places, it became apparent that Quigley lives on strongly in each one of us.  But nothing echoed the spirit stronger when the Salve Regina was sung by the students, alumni and faculty, still from memory, as our voices reached to the tall dome of the church and out the door.  The song of Our Mother.  The song of Quigley.

As Marty called the names of the graduates of the class of 2010, the last class of Quigley, I looked around at my colleagues, my former students and my classmates.  We all knew that this class will never be considered the last graduating class of Quigley Seminary.  However, we know that as a family, that they will forever be the last graduating class.

For on this night, it was officially the end of an era.  The last generation of Quigley students have finally graduated.  Camelot may be closed, but the spirit will live on and the Phoenix, Norsemen and Spartans will all rise again.  And in 80-some years time when the last graduate pass from this world, we will all know that the spirit will continue to live.  It will live on in our stories, our memories and our love for Quigley.

We are Norsemen.  We are Spartans.  We are the Phoenix.

We are the brotherhood and family of Quigley Seminary, Quigley North, Quigley South and  Archbishop Quigley.

We are Quigley.

For more information on Quigley.

The 00′s Decade

Before 2000, I was a shy & quiet kid with a bad temper.  I had few friends and was very sheltered.  Growing up as a first generation immigrant Asian family, I was restricted, limited and controlled on what I could do.  My life was dictated to me.

In 2000, I decided to no longer follow the rules but instead, I began to break them.  I didn’t necessarily revolted but I realized that the rules of life were in my own hands.  I began to live my life not in the vision of another but only of myself.  I began to make friends and was not shy in hanging out with them.  I started to get involved in high school in things that not only interested me, but in things that I felt was a part of me.

In 2001, I sang my heart out as the chorus of Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat.  Though still unknown to my friends, classmates and teachers, for the first time I felt like I was growing as a person.  I traveled to Vietnam in a visit to my mother’s family and granting my grandmother’s wish of seeing her American grandchildren before she dies.  Right after, I began my career in information technology and made a hobby into a career.  By the time school started again, I became a senior and was among the top of my class.  But I knew I could be better, I planned for greatness.

In 2002, I graduated in high school with honors that I never imagined.  Besides graduating 3rd in my class, I went from a quite unknown freshman to a senior who owned the school.  I controlled 2/3 of the school media (senior editor-in-chief of the school newspaper & managing editor of the school website), called the senior prank, hacked into the school network and pulled an epic prank on the vice-principal.  I was the top person in my school.  I was on cloud 9.  The summer brought me to Europe for the first time.  I traveled as a pilgrim to Lourdes where I volunteered and help the sick for a week where I learned how to server.  Paris was a weekend of exploration, followed by World Youth Day in Toronto, Canada where I was mere feet from Pope John Paul II when he passed me.  Fall came. I entered college at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign as a freshman.  I also tried to kill myself.  I was all alone.

In 2003, I went on a retreat called Newman Foundation Koinonia 76.  For the first time in my life, I felt loved as a person.  I shared that love to my new friends and we became the freshmen crew that grew up together.  We’re still friends to this day.  That summer, I returned again to Lourdes to serve and love.  Paris & Barcelona followed; they sparked my love for Europe.  One year later, I returned as a sophomore and began things off as team for NFK78 and phantom chapel cover for NFK79.  A year of love and new beginnings was topped off with my first new year’s eve with friends.

In 2004, the 3 stooges was formed; thus began MAN LUNCH – where random but truly epic weekly quests of 3 friends trying to find lunch and the consequences that followed (::coughs::orangepants::coughs).  MAN LUNCH was also known amongst my friends as 3 monkeys trying to find mates; usually we failed miserably, which lead to many late night trips to IHOP or Steak & Shake.  That summer conjured up an east coast road trip between the 3 monkeys Stooges and our friend Brian (sorry that we drove you crazy).  11 days, 5 cities, 3000 miles, 4 guys, 1 car and a parking ticket.  I saw D.C. in its glory, visited Philadelphia, New York City and Boston for the first time and almost died in Toronto.  Though tension got high in the end, for me, I felt free.  That fall, I managed to work the system and had a free ride.  Grants & scholarships paid for my tuition and working 20 hours for my dorm covered room & board fees.  I was set.

In 2005, I started to be more social as all my friends began to turn 21.  The weekends were fun and the mornings after usually meant lots of coffee.  I witnessed the passing of JPII and the coronation of B16.  Traveled to Lourdes once again and then partook in World Youth Day in Cologne.  That fall, I called Fever House my abode and joined a brotherhood of lame jokes, hilarity and class.  We threw the largest Formal de Fever in history with over 140 guests.  It was a party and a half.

In 2006, spring flew by as I cherished my last semester of college and culminated with a bachelor’s in sociology.  I spent that summer in Champaign/Urbana where I spent my days soaking up the sun and my evenings drinking beer on the Fever House porch with a small fire next to me.  Let’s not also forget the late night debauchery with my best college buddies since freshman year filled with night visits to Murphy’s, after hour trips to One World Pizza and crashing at the Forbes’ as we fall asleep watching Family Guy.  Then came August, I landed my first job as the technology director of my old high school.  It was a my dream job.  That is, until September 19th when it was announced that the 102 year old school is closing the next June.  I went from a first year teacher to a mentor for 200 students and a full time morale booster for my colleagues.  I adopted a kitten found in a trash bin and named him Quigley.

In 2007, I opened my big mouth and promised a friend that I would run her first race with her.  12 weeks later, I ran my first half marathon.  I vlogged the whole race and it was the beginning of something new.  Later that year, I said goodbye to the Great Q, a place that I loved and called home for 5 years.  During my two weeks of unemployment, I fell in love with spending my afternoons outdoors sitting at coffee shops blogging and reading all 7 Harry Potter books.  That life was short lived when I started work at another school teaching computer science and perform tasks as the director of technology as they started 1-to-1 computing.  Come winter, I became one of the few people that could say, “I dated a ginger.”

In 2008, I accepted the highest teaching award for my school district after 6 months on the job (it normally takes 20+ years to win in my category).  I jet setted my spring break as I learn to pack light and found my long lost love to travel.  Come summer, I quit teaching and was recruited back by an old employer where I received most of my IT training.  Before summer was over, I backpacked Australia, attended my 3rd World Youth Day and some how survived scuba diving.  Speaking of surviving, by the end of the year, I lived through 2 corporate moves.

In 2009, the girl of my dreams left me.  I started to attend concerts again, alone, and I enjoyed it.  Befriended awesome YouTubers while attending a nerdfighter event.  Went to my first tweet up.  I attended a wedding that not only had an after party, but an after after party & morning hangover bar-b-que happened.  I backpacked Europe alone on a whim with only a small duffel bag, visiting 7 countries, as I go through my quarterlife crisis.  Attending 2 major blogger meetups, one of which sent me to New York City.  Flew 19 times, visited 15 airports, 7 countries, 5 states and the District of Columbia in 5 months.  I ran my 5th half marathon and then conquered my first marathon.  But most importantly, I fell in love again.  I fell in love with life.

For 2010 & beyond, I am entering a new decade as a man who is constantly loving, serving, learning and living.  I am entering a new world of unknown, potential and hope.  My life now in my own hands, I’m entering the future as myself, ready for a whole new adventure.  And it’s going to be magnificent.  I can’t wait!

20SB Blog Swap: The Booze Buster

Hey blogosphere!  It’s the 20SB Blog Swap Day!  I’m Shop Girl*, and I’m stealing Phampants blog for the day! You can find him over at my blog, I Heart My Shoes.  We discovered that we are both teachers, so for this swap day, we’re going to treat you with our hilarious teaching stories!  Once you finish reading mine, go check out Phampant’s post on my blog!

Teaching is hard. Anyone who tries to tell you differently is either a) entirely too optimistic; or b) lying. Thankfully it’s also wonderfully rewarding and our students provide us with a little comic entertainment from time to time with their interesting antics. (Some people just aren’t that bright. *sigh*)

When I was practice teaching I chaperoned my first high school dance. It was… magical. (Magical is my word for when there are no words. It just seems appropriate. haha)

A friend of mine was actually at the same school that I was for placement, although she was in the high school division and I was working in intermediate. She was asked to chaperone the dance and I volunteered to as well. I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect… when I was in high school in northern Ontario many moons ago, everyone went to dances. There wasn’t much else to do in the community, (not to mention it was an opportunity to go to other schools and stalk hot boys), so, for the most part, dances were well attended. When we moved south, no one went to dances at the high school I attended. It was sad… as I loved going.

So it was my first time seeing a dance from a teacher’s perspective. As we were not assigned specific duties, we were able to float around and get a feel for all the responsibilities of running a dance smoothly and safely… AND I got my first oppourtunity to be a big, bad teacher.

When we first arrived we were asked to stand near the entrance to the gym and prevent students from entering if they had any food, drinks or spiked heels. (boring)

The came the fun part. The VP (who loves me) strolled over and asked if I’d like a turn standing at the doors checking bags and coats for any items that should not be present at a school dance. (Heck yes!) So, I put on my best “I am a serious teacher face” (which I’m sure was more of a “I’m gonna bust some kiiiiiiids” face) and got to work hunting for booze. The first few bags and coats were boring… but SO many kids brought backpacks to the dance! Most of them had almost nothing in them–maybe a book, some pencils, etc. Why do you bring a backpack to a dance?!?!? (I’m boggled.)

So as I’m standing there chatting with another lovely teacher I had just met, a girl walked over and I asked to see her coat and bag. Without any hesitation, she handed me her things. (I REALLY wish I had watched her face more closely at this point) I patted her coat down–nothing. I opened up her backpack, and took a quick look, and I found… binders, pens, and pj pants. (terribly disappointing) I was just about to zip it up when I thought, “Hey, what the heck. Let’s give the pants a squeeze”. I reached in, poked at the pants and felt something cold. Without letting my face give anything away (she couldn’t see what I was looking at) I unwrapped a bottle of Smirnoff that had been hidden in the pants. I gave her my best “You are an idiot” face and signaled for another teacher and the VP to come over. All of a sudden it was not her backpack–she had borrowed it from a friend without looking at the contents.

riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

She got a lengthy lecture from the VP, and I suddenly felt like super cop–saving high school dances one backpack at a time. (*insert theme song here*) I’m pretty sure I had the only bust of the evening, which is a really good thing–no puking, YAY!

After all my front table excitement we moved into the gym to watch the dance. It was an interesting set-up–they had a DJ and a live band made up of kids that had graduated from the school a year or so ago. They switched back and forth every 4 songs. I’ll admit, I was a little leery about the band, but other than being too loud they were so good!! They played songs from MY high school dance days!!!!!!!! They did covers of Journey, AC/DC, and best of all, BACKSTREET BOYS!! (♥) It SO made me want to go out dancing… I haven’t been in so long!

And then there was the slow dancing… I am pleased to report that high school boys still try and put their hands on girls’ bums while dancing. Nothing has changed. haha

The whole thing made me so nostalgic for my high school days… that feeling of being SO excited to get dressed up and find out if the boy you like will be there… and then waiting to see who he asks to dance and whether or not he’ll ask you. The feeling of hearing your favourite song come on and dancing like crazy with your girlfriends on the middle of the dance floor. I miss it. (not high school, just the dances. haha)

I thought I’d leave you with a clip from one of my all-time favourite movies, Can’t Buy Me Love. While there was no African Anteater Rituals performed last night, some of the dancing was equally bad. haha!! (and yes, that is a very young McDreamy in the clip!)

It was lovely “meeting” you!

Shop Girl*

First Day of Adulthood

I woke up today and realized today is my first day of adulthood.

But John, you’ve been out of college and in the real world for almost 3 years now.

That is true imaginary blog voice.  But today is different.

Because it’s Holy Thursday!

True…but that’s not it.

It’s not?

Would you please stop interrupting so I can finish?

But then this blog post would be depressing.  I’m here to cheer things up!

Hey look over there!  What’s that?

RED BALL!  WHEE!!!!

And people say ADD was a bad thing.

Today is the first time since kindergarten that I do not have a spring break.  After 19 consecutive years of having spring break, I am no longer a carefree student child.  I am now an adult.

17 years of schooling and 2 years of teaching later, I never realized how special those school breaks were until today.  For the past 3 years, I traveled during spring break (Paris, Madison, St. Louis, Dallas, Boston and Washington D.C.).  This year, I will not be spending that time away, but instead I’ll be in a cubicle. Welcome to the first day of the rest of my life.

However, I cannot help but wonder, where I would be right now if I still had spring break.  Where would you go?

My March Madness

As I look at the bracket for this year’s NCAA March Madness tournament, I cannot help but miss my own March Madness tournament.

When I taught high school, I knew that come spring time, the kids would start getting lazy and be antsy for the summer.  Heck, once spring break is over, you pretty much lost them for the year.  So, I conceived of a masterful way to keep them under my control.

Each year during March Madness, I would divide all my students in each class up into a tournament style bracket.  They would all have to compete against each other in weekly competitions to advance in the bracket.  Each competition would vary between academic and trivial contests, depending on what section of the bracket they were placed.  Sure enough, they competed with great enthusiasm because winner would only have to do 1/2 of the work needed for their final.

I also threw in another big twist.  Each student had to fill in a bracket, trying to guess who would win each round and overall.  Not only did they chose carefully, they created fan/cheering clubs for each match.  Each match up that they choose correctly, they would receive extra credit points.  Additionally, whoever had the most points in the end also receives the benefit of doing less work for the final.

There was a lot for grabs.  Students who desperately needed extra credit (I never gave EC except for the tournament) realized that they could actually pass the class AND skate through the finals.  I gave them the benefit of the doubt and gave my struggling students the top seeds.  This would piss off the over achievers and cause them to build a fun rivalry, making the whole tournament quite interesting.

Matches per round varied between presentations, photoshopping images, paper basketball, foot races and MarioKart 64 duel for the championship match.  The kids had fun and traditional cliques barriers were taken down as they cheered for each other.  I had fun organizing it and watching them duke it out.  All students in danger of failing, passed.  One failing kid did actually win the tournament once.  The best part about this is being able to keep the kids interest for the rest of the year.

And yes, my bracket was busted a few times.