Good morning friends of Weekend experiences, I hope you are doing well this Saturday and that you take advantage of the initiative to talk about your favorite topic. I for my part chose the first topic, because it is the one I can best portray in photographs and while I was looking for them, I understood some things that I could only see with distance about my student days. If you want to participate in this initiative of @galenkp and the Weekend Experiences Community this is the link to week 215.
Not only did I enjoy my high school years, and was very studious, but I experienced many things there that in retrospect were great. Group work was my favorite, but since I studied art, there I got to know the best exhibitions at my sweet 15 years, recess with friends, first loves and first betrayals.
I was also lucky to have a great mentor, whose sweet way of being still lingers in my memory 20 years later. Pablo was an adorable and loving preceptor, caring and very attentive to all of us, in a time of rebellion and change, and more considering that the young artists that we were at that time, we stood out a little negatively from the whole school.
There I made my first great female friends, where everything shared was fun and equal. Although I went through strange moments, because I had one of my great friends who confessed to be a mythomaniac after repeated uncomfortable situations for the rest, I understood that life was not going to be simple or pleasant all the time, I went through moments of crying, of misunderstanding, and even with specific things in the country, having disrespectful discussions on the part of some people.
Everything followed its course, over the years we changed and grew, we had parties, we made costumes, we did raffles, we designed our end of the year coats, and we painted a flag all together, we got a specific place and made an end of the year party. We celebrated spring days, student days, on occasion we escaped from school, we went to a city 100 km away from Buenos Aires, we enjoyed sharing music and we always delved into poetry, art, and we were overwhelmed by homework.
In senior year, our favorite art class was carrying out a planning by the teacher that the school should stop being monochromatic, as the walls were gray or green, depending on the area of the school, and she wanted to fill it with art, so her project with the school and commitment to us was to paint murals. And there we went, without making much noise, coloring and drawing the walls. They were afternoons of sunshine and mates, while we painted our previously approved project. I enjoyed very much these quotas of art that the school brought us. I also had the chance to do radio for the first time, to visit museums, the Colón Theater, the Palermo Mosque, and to fall in love with Ituzaingó's underground cinema. I can't complain about the school, although there I discovered my difficulties with mathematics and numbers, I also unlocked my love for languages, and they even offered me scholarships to continue studying French.
Like everything in this life, it dissipates if you don't water it with constancy, we also moved away from each other. During the first years we still coincided, either at work or at parties, birthdays or occasional celebrations. Today we are all different people, some no longer live in Argentina, many are parents, others are famous. But above all, I emphasize that although I would not live these years in the same way again, it was beautiful to coincide with these people, to know them and to be able to appreciate today with more affection even the awarding of diplomas, where some were very well dressed, and others just lived it as another experience with the companions of these years.
Although there were jokes and unpleasant situations, I believe that this was overcome day by day with the love and patience of the teachers, with everything that united us and not what distanced us. Even the quietest and least participative people had room to express their emotions, their dislikes and their desires perhaps to do group work alone, and today with more knowledge, I understand that even autism was incorporated naturally in our class, although it was not something that stood out and bullying never filled our classroom, but rather a loving bullying, where you even saw people hugging other people to “annoy” but with an affectionate act. When I say it like that it sounds strange, but I swear it was like that. You would see the “bad boy” of the class, give hugs to the “quiet boy”.
I also want to remember the amount of homework completed at the last minute, the cheating on exams, and some teacher who was not very cool, as his class had nothing to do with art. The rest were all very experimental, teachers with slightly crazy ideas, and with projects and imagination that inspired us and taught us to fly at the same time.
I hope you liked this passage through my history at school, and read about your favorite theme for this weekend. I send you a big hug!
Thanks for reading me, Kiki✨
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I own the rights to all the photos I used in this post They are all very old photographs taken with cameras that no longer turn on, even some of them were analog, roll film cameras. Technology has advanced a lot and me with it 📷
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