There was much anticipation for the expected romance, glitz, and glamour aboard the Walpole Sophomore Semi-formal Dance’s luxurious yacht cruise on the high seas of Massachusetts, tentatively scheduled for late May. As a sophomore, I looked forward to the entire 10th grade arriving in their most ostentatious outfits and coming together to enjoy the night of our lives.
The cruise would take place on the same night as the freshmen’s outing, but thankfully on separate boats. And, of course, we sophomores arrogantly assumed we would get a classier yacht (we imagined the fancy yacht that was once featured in a P-Diddy music video) than the dinghy we had the year before as freshman.
Well, reality has a funny way of keeping you humble. When only 30 sophomores signed up (contrasted with the 100+ freshmen,) the Sophomore Boat Cruise was cancelled the day before the event. Not all was lost though, as the freshmen magnanimously opened their boat to the sophomores, and it turned out there was plenty of room for the fools — all three of us.
The social complications that would come with our decision to join the lower class-men were there. Social suicide was in the back of my mind the whole time when confirming that I would make an appearance at the freshmen dance.
Daring social suicide, fellow sophomore Molly Breen and I figured that we would embrace the awkwardness that would come with seemingly crashing an underclassmen party and have fun with the subverted social hierarchy. So, we chose to dress in a duo of 1980’s dresses that were completely covered in sequins. We knew that we were going to be questioned for our presence on the boat anyway, so we figured we might as well humor ourselves while doing so.
Molly and I arrived at the high school to see the hundreds of excited, formally dressed freshmen all grouping together with their family and friends to take pictures. Our parents kindly dropped us off and quickly sped out of the high school — they too were at risk of social suicide (subsequent rumors at their weekly Tupperware parties were ruthless).
While we stood awkwardly on the sidewalk, something strange happened. The freshmen mothers — envious of our ridiculous 80’s clothing and impressed by our incredible amount of social confidence (or stupidity, not sure) — stopped taking pictures of their children and snapped pictures of us.
Finally, the buses showed up after countless minutes of awkward seclusion from the freshmen and we were off. The buses were separated by last name, but we had our own category. The sign on the bus said “So-Z & Sophomores.” We appreciated the shout-out we got from the sign and mildly enjoyed the ride to Boston. The only amusement we had was from counting the number of times someone stared at the large bag of chips we smuggled in for the trip. Not one person spoke to us on the bus (which we were used to anyway) and we sat in the middle of the bus to uncomfortably separate the surrounding freshmen.
Molly Breen and I set sail (along with Emily Gillon– the only other brave sophomore) with 100 virtual strangers, and our awkward anticipation turned to dread. Visions of walking the plank entered my mind; “Revenge of the Frosh” would be the latest headline of The Rebellion. The thought of the freshmen all crammed in the crow’s nest of the ship looking out to make sure we would go overboard was trapped in my head. “Stay cool,” I thought. My whole life flashed through my mind.
Molly and I trouped together on the dangerous outing, while Emily Gillon ventured off into the freshmen abyss. Emily had dozens of freshmen acquaintances, while Molly and I could only rely on each other for protection. Other than the sudden “Greetings fellow sophomores,” from Emily in the middle of the extravaganza, she was never to be seen again.
Molly and I awkwardly made our way to the sky deck of the boat. The DJ had not started the music, people mostly just talked, and many curious freshmen were still trying to figure out why we were there. Our outrageous outfits obviously did not help blend in. Molly and I searched around the boat for somewhere to hide until the music started or it got dark. We found where the drinks and food were, but they didn’t come without a side of staring from not only the freshmen, but also the crew of the boat.
Molly and I scouted about to see if we recognized anyone (If we stayed in one location too long, we were accosted by freshmen). In total, we saluted maybe 10 freshmen we knew the names of and then wandered off. After the music started playing and every freshman was dancing to the music (“The Electric Slide” and songs by Hannah Montana,) we were in doubt of our decision, but when we finally heard some good music, we decided it was finally time — finally time to dance. We went up to the top of the yacht, not only scaring the frosh, but also astonishing them. We embraced the ridiculous spectacle of our social situation, ventured to the very back of the boat, and took turns doing our favorite dance move: “The Worm.” Not a wise decision on our part- due to the cement ground, but it was funny. On that corner of the dance floor, we danced for the rest of the night with only the accompaniment of the speakers, while the freshmen formed their own dance circles.
The end of the outing neared and after all of the excitement simmered down, the freshmen still could not figure out our purpose, the teachers were amused by our clothes, and we fools had a lively night — even if it was with the freshmen. Our odd performances landed us at least 2 new friend requests on Facebook the next day (Our popularity was growing quite rapidly). All in all, Molly, and I learned that the more varied experience you get early on in life, the better you will handle the unexpected later on- whether it be a Titanic iceberg, a Jack Sparrow shipwreck, or that nightmare where you are the only sophomore on a Freshman Boat Cruise.
