My High School Reunion - 25 years
August 24, 2002

I graduated from a high school near Buffalo, New York in 1977. I can't believe it's been 25 years!  Sheesh.  I certainly don't feel 25 years older, but thinking aaaaaallll the way back to high school I suppose it really was a long time ago.  I think we're more often reminded about the passage of time by the changes in things around us than in any inherent clock inside our heads, and I must admit that much has changed so I suppose it must be true.  Still, I can't believe it has been that long.

When I finished high school I was a captain on the varsity wrestling team. I had been a linebacker for the football team. I was a very good student to whom good grades came fairly easily.  I never drank, or smoked, and I wasn't  what I'd call a "difficult" teenager.  I certainly wasn't "Mr. Popular" by any means, but still, I remember my high school years with a certain sense of fondness.  Whatever awkward feelings I had at the time have been softened by the dull glow of nostalgia.

I moved away from Buffalo shortly after high school, and although I've been all over the place since then I've always considered the Upstate/Western NY area home no matter how far away I am, or how long it's been since my last visit.  My brother and sister and their families still live there, and I spent most of my adult life there, so there's lots of reason to go back which I do a couple or three times every year.  My visits provide a unique psychic kind of energy renewal that I can't really explain, but as I stroll along the Erie Canal near the house in Bushnell's Basin where my wife and I lived for 15 years, where my son was born, and where I thought I'd be forever, I close my eyes and take deep cleansing breaths and I can actually feel the energy.

For some reason, I've always considered a high school 25-year reunion to be a major life milestone.  I don't know why.  Although I didn't really have all that many good friends way back then, and haven't kept in touch with a single one of them, going to this reunion just seemed to be one of those things that people do in life.  I mean, the only thing we really had in common was the fact that we had been born during the same year, and our parents happened to live near one another.  But that fact alone seems to be enough to bring people from all over the country every year to revisit simpler days long gone, reminiscing about things and people that are otherwise lost in the sands of time.

I'd always planned on attending this event.  I had no idea how to notify whoever would be planning it where I was, so at some point in the mid-1990's I registered at Classmates.com.  I was living in Arizona at the time (as Dave, of course), and figured that the reach of the internet would be an important tool for reunion planners, so we'd see what happens. 

By 2002, many things had changed.  I'd started my new life as Donna and was living near Austin, TX.  With all of that going on I really didn't stop to think that it had been almost 25 years since I graduated from high school.  I mean, I really didn't feel that old.  But, in January, I received the email saying that the planners had tracked me down, and that I was invited to the reunion scheduled for late August.  Actually, David was invited.  Hoo-boy; this was going to be interesting.

Despite always planning to attend, now that the invitation was sitting there in front of me I considered this for a little while. Should I go? If so, why? If not, why not? I hadn't kept in touch with any of them - not one. I hadn't been to any of the other reunions. Even so, I still felt some sort of odd "connection" there, some unexplainable compelling need to revisit that time in my life and to introduce those people to who I am now.  Why?  I don't know.  It wasn't "showing off".  I didn't want to make some sort of statement.  It wasn't feeling as though I had to prove anything to anyone.  It was more like finding closure on a portion of my life that still needed it.

After not too much thought, I responded to the email. I told them about some of the interesting events in my life over the past few years, and asked if they felt this would be a problem. They responded by saying that they felt fine with what had happened and would do whatever they could to make me feel comfortable. Cool.

I wasn't really nervous about attending.  To be honest, there are very few things that make me all that nervous any more.  Maybe its that my standard for nervousness was set during my transition, so that anything since then is really pretty mild in comparison.  Or, maybe we each get a certain lifetime supply and I've already used mine up.  Whatever the reason, I wasn't nervous.  In fact, as they months rolled past and August got closer, I got more and more energized.

A few weeks before the event I got an email asking for a short biography, describing what each of us had been up to since graduation. Apparently, they were putting together some sort of alumni directory and wanted to bring everything up to date.  How to explain all of this in a couple hundred words?  Not easy.  So.....I condensed it all into a couple of paragraphs and off it went.

There were over 1,000 graduates in the Kenmore West class of 1977, and I'll bet a good number of them still lived in the Buffalo area.  Buffolonians are like that.  I was confident that word of the changes in my life would make their way around the people who might be interested or curious.  And, I was relieved that there would be opportunities to get the word out ahead of time and relieve the pressure of showing up and having to explain it a hundred times.

Originally, my sister wanted to be my "date". She has grown very protective of me, and wanted to ensure that people would not be cruel or uncivil. I smile at thinking about just what she thought she would do if things got unpleasant. Realistically, people are more likely to say things behind your back than to your face - so if your sensitive to those kinds of things (which I'm not) you really won't be part of the conversation anyways.  But still, I was touched that my sister felt that it was her role to protect me.

She was spared that job when my dear friend, Christine McGinn from Philadelphia, offered to come in her place.  That became the plan.

I was actually looking forward to this. I don't know why. Although I really wasn't sure what to expect, I remembered a commercial that was broadcast during the Super Bowl several years ago about a transsexual at a high school reunion (watch it) and the possibilities intrigued me.

Usually, when I go someplace, I rarely think about who might or might know about my situation.  I'm relieved to say I left that behind a long time ago, and honestly I doubt that many people have any clue.  However, in this case, I figured that everyone would know, and that Christine and I would be the center of attention.  I brought a nice white dress to wear, and a pair of slingback pumps.  I had been working out for weeks, and had slimmed down nicely.  I had even lifted weights a little to tone up, and things were tight all the way around. 

The local newspaper found out what was happening, and after talking with them I invited a reporter from the Buffalo News to come along for part of the evening to see how much fun it was going to be. I warned her that, if she stayed around Christine and I too long others would just assume that she was a transsexual too, but she seemed to take it all in stride.

So the day of the reunion arrives. Christine drives up from Philly. We change into our evening finery. We go over to my sister's for pictures (it felt like a prom or something). And off we go to the reunion. 

There was a line of people at the registration table, and I scanned the faces for someone who looked familiar.  Being at the back of the line all I really saw was backs-of-heads, but still, I didn't see anyone I knew until I got near the table.  Then I saw Lenny.

Lenny and I played football together.  I think we wrestled together, too.  He saw me coming and pick up my name tag, and I said, "Hi, Lenny."  He looked at the name that was printed, almost too small to be seen by anyone more than a couple of feet away.  "Donna!  Hi!"

Later, after his duties in the registration line ended Lenny stopped over.  "Geez.  I can't believe this," he says.

"You and me both," I reply, really meaning it.

"Well, I've got to say that you do look great.  You look happy," he says.

"Thank you Lenny," I replied, genuinely touched.  "You look great too!  Same as ever!"

He thought for a minute.  "You would be the last person I'd ever think would do this.  The last!  I mean, I remember playing football together and you were tough!  We've even been in the shower room together!"

I smiled.  "Don't worry Lenny.  That's not what pushed me over the edge.  And guess what....I'm still tough."

He laughed.  Humor is a good ice breaker.

The first half of the evening was a little awkward, as I had expected. The reported was watching people, and surmised that everyone there knew about the situation as they were trying to get a glimpse of us without looking too obvious. I was relieved about that. The writing on the name tags was teeny and the lights were dim, so in order to see who was who you practically needed to stop them and stare at the nametag in order to read it.

Eventually people started to stop by and chat. I found several of the guys from our wrestling team, and reminisced to the old days. I wrestled at 145. Steve wrestled at 155. He was there. Kevin wrestled at heavyweight. He was there. I met their wives. It was nice.

Soon, the questions started.....

One guy from our football team came up to me, and asked me..."So...have you been in any relationships?".

I responded by reminding him that I had been married for nearly twenty years.

"Oh, yeah." He says. After a few seconds of thought he asks..."So, was your husband gay?".

I reminded him that, at the time, I was a guy and I had been married to a woman.

"Oh, yeah." He says. After a few more seconds of thought he asks..."So, was she gay?"

It's just so funny how some people have a one track mind.

Later, another guy came up to us.

"What do you do for a living?" he asks.

I told him I worked for a well-known computer company.

"Wow," he says. "Are you a secretary, or in tech support or something?"

At this point, I'm amused at the stereotypes. No...I'm an I/T Project Manager, I tell him.

Then he asks about Christine. "She's a surgeon," we tell him.

He gets this wide eyed look on his face and exclaims, "Holy Cripe! You have good jobs! I deliver cupcakes for a living!".

Later in the evening, as people started to ask questions about orgasms, and about sex, I knew that the time had come to go home. I was glad that some of them felt comfortable enough to ask those kinds of questions, although I felt that to answer too graphically would be an overshare on my part.

It was a very satisfying and fulfilling evening. I thank everyone there who helped to make me feel so comfortable and welcome. And I thank Rosalie for taking the time to send a nice card remarking on the courage she felt it took to do what I have done, and how happy I looked.