What has happened to my town and my high school?

Highland Park isn’t Mayberry anymore

I grew up in Chicago’s northern suburbs. My grade school years were in Skokie. We then moved north to Highland Park where I went to high school. Although I didn’t think so at the time, living and going to school up there was a fairly cushy life. I guess I didn’t see it at the time because I had more than my share of teenage angst along with plenty of insecurity and immaturity. Not the best combination.

But all the angst and insecurity was about my social life—or lack of one. There wasn’t anything dangerous going on. Sure, kids were drinking alcohol, smoking cigarettes and smoking weed—sometimes all three at the same time—but nothing life-threatening. It was all part of the privilege of growing up and going to high school in Highland Park. It wasn’t Mayberry, but it was close enough.

When I graduated in 1970, I lost interest in everything that happened at Highland Park—the city and the school. Every so often I’d hear something from a younger friend or sibling, but it wasn’t anything life-changing or violent. It was just everyday normal, somewhat boring life in the suburbs. And that’s what the people who lived in the community liked. Boring meant safe. Violence happened elsewhere. Not in our town. Never could it happen here. And it went on like this for decades. It was a good thing.

All of this changed on July 4, 2022.

A man with an assault rifle open fired on holiday parade-goers. Seven were killed and forty-eight others were wounded. Life was immediately changed for everyone living in the community. It could and it did happen in our town.

In the almost three years since the mass killings, there have been other gun incidents. A student shot and killed another student. The school went on lockdown due to a gun being brought on campus. In a town that was already on edge, this added to it. I’m sure some residents feel like they’ll never be safe and secure again.

And then there was yesterday.

Recording devices were found in bathrooms at the high school and one of the local junior high schools. Yes, the person who did this was caught, but the invasion of student’s privacy will stick with many of the students for years.

When you add all this together, it becomes too much for some of the school’s parents. Coincidentally, there was a school board meeting scheduled for last night. The room was jam-packed with students and parents. It looked like the community had had enough and they were going to let the members of the school board know it. But, surprisingly, it was only a look.

Only two parents spoke up. Both of them told me they had been speaking at these meetings for the last two years with little to no changes. Yeah, they were pissed off at what happened in the bathrooms, but they weren’t surprised. And they won’t be supposed if nothing changes.

I now live in a city that borders Highland Park. While I’m not exactly part of the community, between going to restaurants, grocery shopping and doctor’s visits, I spend plenty of time there. I feel more invested in what occurs there than I did when I lived there more than five decades ago.

It’s extremely sad what has happened in Highland Park. No, Highland Park is not Mayberry anymore—far from it. It’s not even close to the way the community was in 1970—also far from it. And both the school board and the city officials can’t blow it off anymore. They need to do what one of last night’s speakers loudly said:

“DO YOUR GOD DAMN JOB!!”