I am the old, grungy lockers that get slammed shut right before the bell rings.
I am Coach Hill’s deer staring strangely at the children as he teaches.
I am the spirited posters that get teammates revved up to win.
Am I just a school?

I am Jackie answering the constantly-ringing phone and doing paperwork in the office.
I am the sound of the band playing at the Friday night football games.
I am the smell of old, sweaty socks in the March Branch Field House.
Am I just a school?

I am the freshmen hallway filled with the odor of Axe and Cotton Candy Perfume.
I am the freezing teens waiting for 7:45 bell as they bundle together outside.
I am the taste of fresh air while students run to the Bakery for lunch.
I am the strategically-placed video cameras watching your every move.
Am I just a school?

I am the Media Center computers that kids type on with their dirty fingers.
I am the parents screaming about the ref’s calls at the wrestling duals.
I am the putrid taste of the water in the fountain which could make you gag.
I am the blockading kids as others try to push their way through the hall.
Am I just a school?

Maybe, just maybe, I’m starting to change. . .