An experience from High School that changed my perspective on several things.
While at Wasson High School in Colorado Springs, I was part of an interesting integration exercise. This was back when Wasson was still a regular High school in the early days of bussing and school integration (early 1970’s). The principal, Dr Dean, recognized the tension from mixing a diversity of students, so he planned a retreat with students and teachers. I remember the students were a cross section of races and cultures. At first, I was not very comfortable with going, as I did not know what to expect from this. I was a little socially backwards and did not know many that were selected. We went to the Young Life Retreat Center near Buena Vista Colorado. I rode with a few students and the driver was the school custodian. In conversations with Mr. Wilson, the custodian, it was surprising how connected he was to students. As we got close to Buena Vista , we saw what was then the Colorado Boys Youth correction facility. Mr. Wilson said that he used to work there. He then mentioned that all the boys needed was someone who wanted them. That stuck in my mind. That guy seemed very caring and connected to people around him. It also impressed me that being a custodian had a lot more to it than cleaning floors. Also in the car was Mr. Peterson. He was Mr. Wilson’s custodial assistant, a black guy that I thought must have just graduated high school. He was somewhat socially awkward like me but tried to engage with everyone.
When we arrived at the retreat center, I was blown away. I did not know places like that existed. At that time, it was a large lodge with meeting area, game area, and many rooms. It was next to Mount Princeton overlooking South Park. This was a very enchanted place to me. What took place was several sessions in which we gathered in groups with exercises designed to help us to get to know each other. In one session I remember a Hispanic girl asked the group what they thought when they first saw her. “When people see me they think, ‘There goes trouble.’” I admit that is what I thought when I first saw her. She said that was how a lot of people thought about her and had become somewhat of her identity. In this same session, I answered a question that seemed to connect with a different Hispanic girl in the group. It surprised me that someone valued my response. Looking back now I realize, like the girl who identified as “trouble”, my identity had been “invisible”. In one group we were asked if anyone enjoyed reading. A guy with long hair, who looked like the drug loving hippy type, said how much it meant to him to read the Bible. A black guy, who looked like someone you would not want to mess with, perked up and agreed on how it also was important to him.
During free time one evening I played pool. Playing pool was one thing I knew how to do as I had a friend who had a pool table. I was very amused with the group I was playing pool with, which was mostly black and they acted as though they were all part of one family or grew up together. I was also amused by their sense of humor. Humor seemed different to different groups. Also during free time some of us went hiking. This area was just enchanting to me. We came across a small pond with fish in it and a couple of the teachers were trying to fish. Seeing this was hilarious, but we tried fishing too after they left. This pond had a small dock and overlooked the mountains. The spot, on the small dock, had such a peaceful presence and became a mental safe place for me for years to come. Though I never saw the pond again, I would return to it in my mind when I was stressed or just feeling down.
It was also interesting to see interactions between teachers. They seemed like fun and real people. During one group session, Dr Dean was part of the group. I don’t remember the subject for this session, but I remember Dr Dean sharing the experience of his first child being born. I was not used to adults sharing something like this and it stuck with me. It made me wonder what the experience of having a child be born would be like. One black girl was outgoing and somewhat a leader. In the common top 40 radio stations was a song call the Hustle. The song would say “Do the Hustle” Someone asked her, “What is the dance, The Hustle”? So she got a player and led a session. It was asked why don’t blacks go to dances or the spirit/cheering parties. This girl responded that the music was primarily rock. There was not any variety that blacks could relate to. She also mentioned that none of the black girls tried out for cheerleader because you had to fit a narrow definition or look: White, blond, long straight hair, popular, and from a certain social background.
In summary, the weekend did not cure all the race problems. But we no longer saw each other as strangers, which helped in decreasing tensions. Also variety was added to pep rally parties. A black girl, and an Italian girl each became cheerleaders. Looking back and reflecting, this helped me to see people as individuals and to not be as fearful at school because more people had a name and a face. It also helped me recognize that I was not invisible.
Mr. Peterson would quietly push his broom down the hall until he passed me and would say, “Hey Dave, what’s happening?”