Woodway High School - Sinn Fein Yearbook (Edmonds, WA)

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.x spook houses and penny tossing. It seemed a fitting end to our elementary years. Junior High was tramatic for some students who couldn't quite make the transition from one school to another. Most of us quickly learned the ropes though. Lunch pails were out and the brown paper bag was ing run- ning was. of course. prohibited. and cutting corners wasnit allowed. Remember the countless corners we had to rewalk because we were going just a little too fast? Hall pas- ses were needed when you were out of your designated room. though if caught without one. we could usually elude our adminis- trator by ducking into the library. out the window. across thc football field. back around the building. and then staying in the bathroom for a good twenty minutes. Lunches were different: We no longer got to eat in the cozy quiet comfort of our rooms with the rest of our 25 classmates: we were thrown in with 4-00 other students in a noisy mess of confusion. Formal P.E. began for us then also. How we hated those unflattering white boxer shorts we had to wear: those sloppy. unironed white T-shirts with our names serawled on the shoulder in El Marco. and the sweat socks which always sagged to the ankles during calisthenics. In eighth grade we had IPS. an introduction to the fascinating world of physical science. We learned such valuable things as why wa- ter crystalizes. and the boiling points of vari- ous nondrinkable liquids. Languages were taught in Junior High. though most of the students hadn't even begun to master English nor were able to speak it fluently. And finally. High School. Remember those first days here at W.H.S.. when the school seemed like an endless maze of hall- ways and lockers which were eager to swal- low up any unsuspecting little sophomore and never let him be seen on the face of the 5.-.85 earth again? It took three weeks just to find our lockers. Remember how paranoid we were that first year. so afraid that around the next corner there would be three hun- dred Seniors just waiting to string us up by our toenails, or make us push a rock with our nose down the hall. out the door. across the highway . . . Our fears weren't too easily justified though: all the Seniors that year were too busy cowering from the Juniors. The classes that year were really priceless: Driver's Ed: a bunch of hysterical would-be drivers trying to learn how to signal and brake without throwing their passenger through the windshield. Then there was Bi- ology. Half of the Science budget must go into books on how to torture and mutilate the common frog. and the other half into smelling salts for the queasy students. Lastly. there was good old Geometry. where minds were bent and warped into isoceles triangles and parallelograms. We were lucky to make it through the year intact. Our Junior year wasn't all that bad. if you enjoy that inbetween stage. It's like being the middle child in the family. too old to be pampered by your mother. and too young to be treated as an adult. After our first year in high school. they decided to bump our noses right into the old grindstone. Instead of coming home every day to watch the boob-tube. we would bring just about the entire library home just to do our English and social studies. Every night. homework- Yeeecchll Besides homework. we had many tests to take. such as the SAT and the good old WPCT. for which we had to pay mass bucks. That was a year for starting a REAL job. No skill or knowledge was required to obtain a job in the drive-thru window at the Cheap joint down the hill. At the assem- blies. we juniors were never good at much of anything, whether it was the old custard pie on the head relay or Woodway's clever version of the javelin event: the old plunger into thc toilet routine. And. finally. we were Seniors. We were adults. We were the role models of the school. and what an example we set. We really showed the Sophomorcs how to wear their cowboy hats and strut down thc hall. Ironically. our senior year passed more quickly than we had expected. and in no time at all we were facing graduation and connnencement. We had passed through so- cial studies. auto classes f What's a carbure- tor? l. and Home-Ec classes in which we learned the joys of unintentionally hem- ming cu1'tains to our shirt sleeves. But. for the most part we had fun at Woodway: we learned a lot about life. the world. and nlosl importantly ourselves. And now. after twelve vcars. it's time to hang up our hats. take a step forward. and show the world what we can do. 153

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