Possibly the Worst Track Meet I Have Ever Been In

November 2009
The weather report for Saturday the 14 said that it would be slightly rainy and slightly windy. This turned out to be rather misleading. The whole entire report could be considered as one big understatement.
Around 9 o'clock in the morning, the cross country team hopped on the bus out of a gentle pitter patter of rain. As the bus ride progressed it soon became apparent that the weather was steadily getting worse. And then, a little after 10, we arrived at the course. By this time the weather was certainly something to be reckoned with, not ideal conditions for running 3.1 miles in. We marched across an incredibly muddy landscape, searching for a place to put up our Watertown Raiders tent. Our coach, Witt chose an unfortunate spot on a hill overlooking an intersection of the course. Or at least that was his reason for picking it and he didn't mind that wind with speeds approaching 90 miles per hour coming at us from at least three different directions. At least it was on high ground in case the park ran the risk of flooding, which it certainly looked in danger of.
Absolutely everything got wet.
There was no way to stay dry.
Raindrops seemed to fly at you from several directions at once. But no matter what, cross country runners run through any kind of weather, except lightning and more than 4 feet of snow but only because the Health Department doesn't like it.
Anyway, our tent was soon in an up right position and sooner than physically safe people were huddling under it. The other girls and I waited until 40 minutes to our race before warming up, which turned out to be a moot point because of the ice cold buckets of water falling from the sky. We huddled near the starting line not to build team spirit but for warmth. We were eyeing the muddy trail when some boys who were in the current race went by. We couldn't help but notice that every step they took sank them up to slightly below mid-shin in ominous looking mud. They also sent horrific amounts of mud flying at innocent bystanders.
Finally the race was about to start, the first stretch leading through a field that bore a striking resemblance to the swamps Gollum leads Frodo and Sam through to Mordor in the third movie of Lord of the Rings. That and the weather combined with the solemn manner of everyone around me made me feel as though we were in World War II. Then before I knew it, the official had shot the gun into the air and roughly half of the girls were off, the other half trying to figure out what had just happened. Unfortunately I was part of the latter population and so was stuck behind these Winchester girls kicking up mud and water into my face. The field turned out to be exactly like the Dead Marshes however as soon as I thought that everything started to get rather humorous. The rest of the meet was a blur, due to the zero visibility and because I had to focus n what was in front of me. I plunged through mud puddles that were up to my knees, dashed desperately across level ground only to hesitate when arriving at yet another body of water, and tripped twice over other girls. I finished the race at around 25 minutes, thrilled to have suddenly come upon the finish line.

RED RAIDERS for FAIR CONTRACTS

Recently buttons have been circulating around the kids that school which read “RED RAIDERS for FAIR CONTRACTS” in support of the teachers who have gone nearly two years without a contract from the town. On the button is a picture of our mascot, a little caricature of a Native American with feathers in his hair and a graduation cap. Sasha, ever the justice seeking missile, is refusing to put the button on her backpack because of the picture of the Native American, because it is offensive to the large Native American population in our over-built four square mile town. Because the plight of the socially oppressed Native Americans overshadows that of the teachers who have not had a contract in two years, who don’t know if they are going to be paid at the end of this year, and who are legally prohibited from going on strike or making any kind of protest that interferes with their job (which is the point of those kind of demonstrations).
Obviously, Sasha has her eye fixed on the bigger picture, and after learning of her views I have had several profound breakthroughs myself.
I suddenly feel strongly that I too should devote all of my absent-minded pity to the Native Americans, spend endless time nitpicking through cultural hallmarks, slang, and allusions in film to historical events to finally bring the Native American image to justice! I see the goal now, in my mind’s eye, and can confidently say that it is nearly within our grasp, despite hundreds of years of Native American caricatures, cultural hallmarks, slang, allusions, and also food (like corn, which we probably shouldn’t eat since technically it was theirs first). To avoid warping of their culture, we should probably ignore their existence entirely.
I now see the genius of Sasha and like-minded people; why try to fix something in our own town, our own high school, something that directly affects us, when we can take a stand about an issue that has essentially reached a state of equilibrium and meanwhile has no effect on us whatsoever.
Nevermind that the little caricature of the Native American has been the mascot of the school since it was formed, and continues to be a prominent and honored symbol of school spirit and unity. We should all fragment into little elitist groups, pull our hems from the mud and make assertions about things we seem to know nothing about, like the amorphous and ever-changing, all-encompassing Social Justice. Is it not social injustice that teachers are forced to babysit all day without a clear picture of what they will get paid, what their benefits will be, when they have family at home depending on their salary?