Kennedy High School - Profiles Yearbook (Bloomington, MN)

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One of the boys The Kennedy male . . . trying to be one of the boys as he works to make his impression the right impression. He begins with a shave, as beards are out (reason: only 1 out of 9 senior boys has anything to shave anyway). His hair is fluffed and styled by his blow comb to make him look neat, but not too neat. On to his clothes. What he wears depends on where he's going, as there's an outfit for every occasion. For school, there's the studied casual look, with Levi's buffing the floors. After school, the uniform fits the season as everything changes except the smelly socks. Later, in the stands, his bare toes peek out of holey Adidas while the rest of him huddles under his eternal jeans, hooded sweatshirt, and letterjacket. Sunday is the day to please Mother. He lowers himself to wear the sweater she bought him. Mothers have questionable taste. Then comes Homecoming. . . the one and only time that it all comes to together. . . from gleaming shoes to his only pair of pants that aren't Levi's, from his tailored coat to his father's tie, to the special smile he reserves only for her. 22

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Sixth grade: Next to cursive writing the most exciting thing in your life is getting to wear pants to school. The liberation of it all. . . Now you can forget all that stuff about keeping your legs crossed when you sit and you can flop around like those slobs, the boys. Tenth grade: You start to have the social life you deserve when word gets around that you have gotten your driver's license. Visions of sumptuous dates spent at Post Road fill your dreams and may even become a reality. . . once you learn to shift the car's gears. Seventh grade: Coming with your friends, dancing with your friends, talking with your friends, and leaving with your friends is the way it goes at your first junior high dance. Trouble is, your friends are all of the same sex. A girl wonders if the boys are as boring as they look. Eleventh grade: He's your father, and he couldn't be prouder, so he takes pictures of you in front of the TV, on the front steps, in front of the fireplace, in front of your boyfriend . . . He'll be up when you get home, for he'll never believe his little girl has grown up. Eighth grade: Well, you're paying the price. Those chocolate malts, French fries, pizza, candy bars, potato chips, and pop may taste good going down, but the next day it's Pimple City. Suddenly, you start listening more carefully to Clearasil ads by the Wolf Man, 'cause he's been there, you know. Ninth grade: Can this be Heaven? This is the moment you've been waiting for . . . the first kiss after the big Oak Grove-Port land football game. Obviously, all that Ultra-Britedid the trick. Now, if you would have remembered the Certs, he might have kissed you again. Twelfth grade: With diploma in hand, you're ready to face the world. It takes an event like Graduation to make you realize that your life during the last 13 years has been a collection of first-hand experiences — some terrific, some OK, and some just barely tolerable, at least at the time. While you are happy to leave high school and move into new worlds of adventure, you're not nearly as happy as your teachers who stand by at the Met June 2 just to be sure that you are, indeed, leaving. They've enjoyed you, but after all, enough is enough. 21

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 One of the girls The Kennedy female . . . soft, charming, and a delight to look at. But all that doesn't come easily. Her attempt at perfection begins with a perfumed bubble bath and continues as she makes her lashes luscious. But it's up to her hair to make the look complete. When she approaches her closet each day, it's with the idea of impressing him — that boy for her that's lurking out there somewhere. At school, she's the picture of coordination from her blazers to scarves to jewelry as she knows that the grubby look is out. This impression collapses at 2:35 when she changes into clashing combinations of whatever is clean that day. At the game she is a study in contrasts as she tries to look casual but not too casual. . . her rumpled jeans retain a careful crease. Simplicity and innocence in clothes and expression give her the wholesome look Father cherishes at church. All this is but a prelude for Prom when the best of what she has and what she knows combine to give her the kind of look that makes him proud. 23