Page 43 - Philly Girl

Philly Girl 27

Not College Material

It is very difficult to stand out in a school of 4,000 students.
My only claim to fame was wearing a cheerleader uniform
on game day and sitting way in the back of the 45-student
classroom, as we were seated alphabetically.
My grades were mediocre, except in English, so my par-
ents insisted that I take typing as an elective. My young
typing teacher was obsessed with Michaelangelo, and she
helped me love him too. I wound up writing my senior the-
sis on “The Homoerotic Elements of Michaelangelo’s Sculp-
tures.” I also got support from Miss Martyska, an unmarried
teacher from an Irish family.
I spent many hours in the library. It was my refuge. I loved
reference books, although they could not be taken home.
At bedtime, I devoured the classics: Wuthering Heights, Jane
Eyre, Of Human Bondage, To Kill A Mockingbird, Les Mis-
erables (in English). And many more.
Somehow all this reading translated to my being able to
write a coherent, persuasive essay for Miss Martyska and she
thought, “Maybe she’s smart, after all.” I couldn’t believe
that some adult actually took an interest in my school work.
She was the only one.
Summoned to the infamous chambers of Cora Horow-
itz, the high school guidance counselor, she informed me,
“You are not college material. Please do not waste your par-
ents’ money going.”
Evidently, I wasn’t the only student dismissed this way.
In Frederick Wiseman’s scathing documentary, High School,