The Islander – Part 5: The District

I was a Panther first, then a Gator, and  finally an Islander. Don’t you love the lack of logic of mascots, and often lack of cultural thought given to these labels?  My elementary school was Island Park Elementary (the Panthers), then there was Islander Middle School (the Gators) and finally Mercer Island High School Islanders ugh).
Panthers and Gators were not indigenous to the Northwest, so that was a weird choice. The fact the the high school mascot had a implication of nativity, being of an island, and also the racial connotation being Polynesian, is even more baffling and begs reexamination. Mascots that take upon racial identity or imply them need to be dropped.

Three elementary school, one middle school, and one high school make up the Mercer Island School District. Middle school was the point in where was the chaos of three elementary schools worth of students combining occurred. This meant that the transition in high school was mostly with the same group of students. This allowed students to carry on and develop relationships but also meant that baggage from years past were carried from middle school to high school.

The first part of the trilogy, elementary and middle school was mostly positive. It was a time of confusion, but the love and belief my parents had in all of the facets of who I am helped me not be bothered by what didn’t make sense. It was this foundation from my family that helped me work through not being what the messaging of my school told me.

In math, my teachers told me I should be able to do math in my head, and my PE teacher even at a young age made me feel less than during fitness tests. However, my limited awareness as a child made this seem more normal than traumatic

I wanted to be like others who were good at sports  not because of their athletic prowess but because of the admiration that these athletic abilities engendered. I didn’t understand yet that this desire worked against the development of my own identity and who I wanted to be.

If the external influences of peers, teachers and cultured didn’t reinforce gender, cultural and social norms in high school, maybe my understanding of my true self would have occurred in high school and not college. However, this was not the case, and as the messaging became stronger later in middle school, the upcoming conflict filled me with a sense of anxiety.

What comforted me was this idea that like Corey, I would find my Topanga, that the high school fantasy and its pursuits would bring me happiness. Like the first part of a trilogy, there was more hope than dread, unaware of the specter unknown and unseen.