While Ari Fletcher contemplates the reasons why “grown adults” go to homecomings, this coming weekend marks another edition in one of the longest rivalries in all of US sports. For those who aren’t privy, I’m referring to the high school rivalry between the Baltimore City College’s Knights (City) and the Baltimore Polytechnic Institute’s Engineers (Poly). City, known as the Castle on the Hill, and its rival have a rich history as two of the brightest schools in the Baltimore area, both athletically and academically. When they collide, it’s a sight to behold and it’s hard to deny. The buzz that surrounds the game has a habit of sweeping people up.
It’s kind of a celebration of what it means to be a Baltimorean: football, food, stiff drinks, unity mostly without incident, and Blackness all around (while also still being relatively diverse considering both these schools are in Baltimore City proper). It’s a time where most hang with their old buddies, celebrate growth and catch up. It’s also an event, whether you call it City/Poly or Poly/City, that’s akin to a Howard University homecoming in some ways.
I don’t really go to this sort of thing, though. I’m sure at least one of you (be you from my graduating class or just a reader) is asking “why.” Well, it’s complicated. At first, it was because of my intrusive thoughts and the like.
Simply put, high school wasn’t the greatest time for me, mainly because of my own fails and follies in terms of taking care of myself. It was 2000s Baltimore and all that entailed. My mental health was in shambles. My mom was an older Black mom, so mental health help wasn’t really looked at in a positive light. I was still discovering who I wanted to be, and there were a lot of behind-the-scenes things going on that most wouldn’t know just by looking at me.
Essentially, I was your average teen but with the mental health difficulty sliders set all the way to Hall of Fame. Due to my childhood and a general feeling of helplessness brought on by not being able to properly talk through what I felt, that’s how you ended up getting the Speed I was then. “Preacher” Class President by day, teen struggling with depression, anxiety and burgeoning bipolar symptoms at home. Awkward-but-usually-good-intentioned guy at City, sixteen-year-old who went through a lot of self-loathing away from the Castle. Decent-to-great student in class, someone who didn’t know what they wanted out of life at home. To all this, then toss in things such as a toxic infatuation I had with someone and a father who I despised but was dying. Then, maybe add in a nuke and a flamethrower and, like I once rapped, “you’ve got me.” Suffice it to say, I was a wreck at City and didn’t really fit in. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but honestly because I constantly “did too much” while simultaneously not feeling like I did enough (leading to overcompensation). I didn’t feel worthy of attention or even worthy of being liked as a person, but I craved people to notice my efforts.
These thoughts of “not being worthy” of attention or even being liked by others, they popped up a lot during my time at City and colored my experience. Even in the face of doing something positive, like being Class President, I still found a way to beat myself down. That feeling of being “less than” led me to take a laissez-faire approach to my position. That’s great in a lot of ways, because my cabinet was chockful of talented and intelligent young people. However, it also made it seem like I didn’t really give a you-know-what. Those feelings of inadequacy and being “less than” made it a bit less possible to be as gung-ho about high school pageantry as some of my peers.
Pretty much until I hit my late 20s, the idea of being in a large group of people who knew me as “J dot Speed” was triggering. It was triggering for multiple reasons. I absolutely hate crowds and loud noises due to my neurodivergence and sensitivity to sounds and noises. This is why I almost always wear earbuds while I’m out in crowds, even if there’s no music. Secondly, I took myself very seriously in high school (blame that low self-esteem) and into my 20s to the point of me laughing at myself wasn’t in the cards. Third, the idea of being all “City Forever” triggered me because I’d go into an anxiety-induced spiral about how people who possibly remembered me as “the weird guy” may “look at me.”
Man, it was horrible, to say the least.
At our ten-year-reunion, I went through something similar. I borderline obsessed over how to apologize to certain people for being “out there” in my teens /possibly wronging someone. Hell, I’d even contemplate walking up to that woman I was toxically infatuated with and attempt to make amends for my delulu-ness. I didn’t, make amends that is. Instead, beating a dead horse due to my intrusive thoughts saying “you’re not worthy” while also saying “you need ‘closure’” was the name of the game for me.
Ultimately, I failed to, even with my growth as a person, realize one thing. That one thing, readers, is this: at the end of it all, I’m just “Speed” and almost no one really gives a damn about the awkward stuff from my past. My fears about it all were both irrational and all in my head. But because I couldn’t get out of my own head earlier in my life, I was really the only one who had an issue with me. While I’m not really close with many City graduates, people treat me like you’d treat an old acquaintance when it comes to things like this.
It just took some time to get comfortable with it all. But because of my own self-improvement, I’ve been able to joke with people about my, in a word, “uniqueness” during my teens. In fact, I feel I’ve become better acquainted with some of my schoolmates as an adult than I ever was in the past. The act of letting go is why this publication is called “I’m Just Johnthan” versus something different or in tune with past publications. I’m just one dude, no one in particular and I shouldn’t take myself overly seriously or sweat stuff that no one else gives a damn about.
I won’t get into all of the details, as “if you know, you know.” I’m pretty open about all of this, but took a lot of my post-teen life to both accept and love myself for “the way I was then,” including the not-so-positives. In fact, I’m still learning at 37. Self-improvement doesn’t stop until one’s heart does. But it took me letting go of the hurt I felt towards and about myself and working on my self-esteem and loving myself to move into my current place in life. I also let bygones be bygones, as most people would/should. All in all, I’m in a good place. But as much as I do love a good get together (especially with food and drinks), and as much as I’ve healed myself, I still tend to stay away.
Yes, it’s a bit different for someone who can’t really do crowds and someone who was off in their own headspace during high school. I don’t have the ties to it all as some others, so it ever-so-slightly reminds me of being back in high school. For me to be all “rah-rah-rah” about my dear alma mater feels a bit disingenuous, though loyal I’ll always be. That’s not the reason why I stay away, though. That’s simple: I’m a dad and I often have my kids on the weekends. City/Poly and reunions and the like often happen on weekends. I think you see where I’m going with this. I mean, yes, “City Forever” and Palmam Qui Meruit Ferat and such. But my boys are my boys and they take priority above all else.
Maybe next year I’ll take the plunge again. After all, it’ll mark twenty years since I graduated from City. And time, like self-improvement, waits for no man.
Go Knights!
-Johnthan Speed, Baltimore City College c/o 2006
