Surveying the west Omaha landscape on a snowy Sunday night, one could contemplate the quiet, feel the biting January chill and mistake the world for one at peace. One might imagine his fellow Americans -- all of them -- gazing at the powdery comforter pulled over a manicured suburban scene, grateful for the beauty of it all.
One might get lost in the nature-imposed tranquility of such a night and imagine that an anger-crazed teenager hadn't, just a few days ago, shot and killed his assistant principal.
Hadn't shot and wounded his principal.
Hadn't shot at and missed a custodian as he fled the scene of the crime -- a high school just miles away from this peaceful sight.
Lost in a gentle snowfall, engulfed in the soft glow of a leaden January sky, one's thoughts have difficulty embracing the notion of an anger so intense, so soul-deadening, so hope-destroying it would demand that a young man jam a Glock up against his own head, then pull the trigger in a bid for oneness with the abyss.
TAKING IN this wintry vista, one struggles with the vision of a paranoiac snapping an ammo clip into another handgun, in another American city far away, then taking aim at a congresswoman, then pulling the trigger, authorities say. Pulling it again, and again, and again, we hear -- like some sort of self-appointed destroyer of entire worlds.
Appearances can deceive. We are tempted to think the falling snow might somehow forever bury -- mystically obliterate -- the blight upon our land. That the ugliness within us might not survive the beauty without.
Eventually, though, the snow clouds exhaust themselves. Eventually, the light shines upon the illusion and melts it away.
Eventually, we must deal -- Might deal? Can we deal? -- with the muck and the grime.
Maybe.
Maybe we'll just close our eyes, trying not to notice the stink of that which molders around us. And we'll wait for the next snowfall . . . for the next blessed illusion.
"This time." That's a hell of a couple of words -- this time. They mean it's happened here before -- which it has. They mean it probably will happen again -- which I wouldn't doubt.
"This time." A hell of a thing, "this time." A hell of a thing that means I can just recycle what I wrote about last time, which is, in itself, a hell of a thing. This matter of history -- and youthful domestic terrorism -- repeating itself in my city. In Omaha.
Mayor Jim Suttle said this thing "descended on our city." No, things like this don't descend on a city, except in the sense that evil descends upon a place to wreak its havoc. Things like what 17-year-old Robert Butler Jr., unleashed don't descend so much as they're carefully constructed in the human heart.
Fitfully hatched in a demented mind.
Cynically incubated in a full-blown culture of death. That would be us, the world's new barbarians.
HERE'S WHAT I wrote three years ago, when youthful mayhem "descended" on Omaha in 2007 during the Von Maur massacre. Not a damned thing has changed except the name, the place and the extent of the carnage.
Just replace "Robert A. Hawkins" with "Robert Butler Jr.," "Christmas shoppers and salespeople" with "students and faculty." Call it good.
Or very, very bad.
Robert A. Hawkins was a terrorist just as much as is Osama bin Laden. Osama's a big leaguer; Robbie Hawkins was a rookie-league screwball pitcher. How do you like your newfound fame, kid?
I can appreciate that Hawkins was a sad, tormented and pathological young adult. I can. So were Hank Williams and Janis Joplin, but they still managed to leave behind much beauty in this world and killed no one but, ultimately, themselves.
And let's not forget Vincent van Gogh.
Robbie Hawkins' legacy is death, panic, mayhem, gore and heartbreak. Thousands of years of human tradition and theology tell us mayhem and death are the province of the Evil One, and modern psychology can offer no treatment -- no effective prophylactic -- for the demonic.
Robert A. Hawkins, age 20, was a sick young man. A sick young man who listened to the devil inside. A sick young man for whom self-murder just wasn't good enough.
No, he had to take eight others with him on his way out.
I grieve for the hell Robbie Hawkins' life became, just as I weep over the hell on earth he brought to innocent Christmas shoppers and salespeople. I will not, however, make excuses for what he did -- what he did to eight fellow humans, what he did to their families and friends, what he did to this city.
This city . . . Omaha. My home.
With great difficulty, I pray that God has more mercy on Robbie Hawkins' tormented soul than Robbie Hawkins had on a bunch of innocent people he knew not from Adam. But that doesn't change what Hawkins decided to become Wednesday afternoon -- a terrorist. Albeit one without a clue.
WE LIVE IN A SOCIETY that has fetishized sex, violence, death and materialism. None of the above can fill the void that haunts our being. None of the above can give adequate meaning to young lives like the one Robert A. Hawkins threw away in that Omaha shopping mall.
Americans are quick to mock those young, Islamic terrorists who embrace suicide, murder and carnage for the greater glory of Allah -- and the chance to screw themselves silly in Paradise with 72 hot virgins.
But at least they kill -- and die -- for something, no matter how warped.
For what did Robbie Hawkins -- and all his youthful predecessors like Harris, Klebold and Cho -- kill . . . and die?
What does it say about Omaha as the excitement capital of the Midwest when a championship high-school volleyball coach decides she's going to let her freak flag fly in . . . Grand Island? Talk about not only gross misconduct -- or, in this case, Gross misconduct -- but I think there may be some "get a life" issues in play here as well. Let me be blunt: Coach (or ex-Coach, as the case may be), you do realize you are (were) the coach here of a high-school girls volleyball team, right?
And that you just won the Nebraska state championship and not the Olympic gold medal, right?
And that, like, you're waaaaaaay past your teen-age years, never served a single ace or made a single kill in the tournament and are supposed to be the adult here, right?
NEVER MIND. The Omaha World-Heraldmakes it pretty clear she never thought of any of that:
Korrine Schuster apparently is no longer the Omaha Gross volleyball coach, though the reasons for her departure are unclear.
Kearney-based television station NTV reported on its website Monday night that Schuster was removed from the Midtown Holiday Inn where the Cougars were staying after capturing their second consecutive Class B state volleyball championship. Officer Butch Hurst of the Grand Island Police Department was quoted as saying there was a disturbance at the location.
The station reported that no one was arrested, but police said Schuster was removed from the property after police received a call about 2:45 a.m. Sunday.
Hurst said, “At the time officers thought she was intoxicated, and she alleges she was coach of Omaha Gross,” the station's report said. The officer also was quoted as saying that “a female was being referred to the Hall County Attorney's Office for disturbing the peace.”
The television report added it wasn't clear what happened at the hotel, located just blocks from the Heartland Events Center — site of the state tournament. Further, the TV station said the police report made no reference whether any girls were involved.
The parent of a senior player said Tuesday that none were.
Gross president Beckie Cleveland was quoted in the TV report as apologizing for actions out of line with the Catholic school's mission. She also was quoted as saying that Schuster was no longer employed there, but declined to comment further.
KORRINE, all I have to say is that girls like you are why I wanted nothing more, as a 16-year-old, than to be the only male student at St. Joseph's Academy, the Catholic girls school in Baton Rouge.
But you're not a hot-to-trot Catholic schoolgirl. You were part of Catholic-school officialdom. Yet you were pulling crap like that.
Even as a hormone-crazed teen-age male, I would have found that just . . . well, gross.
In case you've forgotten, America -- and given the state of the American hype machine the past week or two, I think you may have -- being gay is not the only reason youth get bullied.
It is not the only reason they kill themselves.
And, frankly, I'm starting to get scared that people are getting the message that gay-bashing is the only bullying going on out there. I'm afraid everything else is going to get overlooked.
HOW ABOUT this, America? How about we stop the bullying -- and suicides -- of all youth? Gay, straight, fat, thin, geeky, brainiac, spazzy, dorkish, gimpoid, stuck-up, slutty, virginal, lame-o, klutzy, doofus and religious fanatic.
Let's help them all.
Let's protect them all.
Let's save them all.
At its root, teen bullying -- or any bullying, for that matter -- isn't because kids are gay (or fill-in-the-blank). It's because kids are different in some way, and adolescence is hell on "different."
It's easy as hell to become the Other when you're 15. Hell, it's easy enough when you're 50. We humans don't "do" Other very well.
I've seen kids catch hell for all kinds of reasons. And oftentimes, kids who catch holy, unrelenting hell end up hating themselves enough -- or wanting the pain to stop badly enough -- that they embrace the most permanent solution they can think of . . . for themselves, or for the pain.
THERE WAS a rash of teen suicides in Omaha about five years ago, bringing wider attention to a deadly trend across Nebraska. The deaths led the Omaha World-Herald to publish a huge, and excellent, series on the subject -- not that our short attention spans let us recall this.
Or recall that the teen deaths, while sometimes linked to bullying, rarely had anything to do with homosexuality.
I don't mean to minimize how badly gay kids get treated -- they often are treated horribly, and that is horribly wrong. And, indeed, sometimes the specific illustration can give us a good idea of the general picture.
Sometimes, the "little" story tells the bigger one in a manner we can wrap our brains around.
But in this case, I think it's possible that the smaller picture might end up obscuring the larger one.
Do you remember rock 'n' roll radio? Here's a little of how it went at North High School in Torrance, Calif. Or, we can put it this way . . .
Rock'n, rock'n'roll radio Let's go Rock'n, rock'n'roll radio Let's go Rock'n, rock'n'roll radio Let's go Rock'n, rock'n'roll radio Let's go . . .
. . . to the wonderful world of 1982 at KNHS.
SADLY,KNHS left the airwaves in 1991. About all that survives of the voice of Torrance's North High -- at least that survives in cyberspace -- is this video. Andthe cache of a now-deleted history of the station on the school's entry on Wikipedia:
KNHS, was an FCC licensed FM radio station transmitting on 89.7 MHz, serving the Torrance, California area with a variety music format. KNHS was first licensed in the mid to late 1950s and ceased when a short-sighted TUSD allowed the station license to expire in 1991. The station originally broadcast with only one Watt and did not transmit with its full licensed power until 1972 when its studios and transmitter were moved to the second floor of the Industrial Arts building according to the High School newspaper The North Wind.
There was no professional management for the station and students of North High School ran the station, therefore the programming, educational value and financial earnings potential of the station was never realized. There was no engineer for the station except for a contract engineer who was only called on when something was known to be wrong.
In 1967, Mr. McKenzie managed KNHS activities, to include the broadcast operations, setting up and running the audio system for plays, and calling play-by-play for Saxon football games, sometimes even broadcasting from remote locations (other high schools). KNHS also had speakers at various parts of the campus, including the "quad," cafeteria, and other areas. During breaks and lunches, the speakers were turned on to let students hear the station. A "landmark" is the tower with the two omni-directional "halo" antennas at the top. The tower originally was above the old broadcast area by the cafeteria (a sound booth, the operations booth with a Gates audio console and Ampex tape recorders, and a music storage room). The theme song for basketball games was “Sweet Georgia Brown.” When KNHS moved in to the (then) new 2-story industrial arts building (with the auto repair area on the first floor), the antenna tower was also moved to the roof of the industrial arts building. Mr. Fields took over for Mr. McKenzie around the time KNHS moved to the industrial arts building. KNHS conducted monthly tests by turning on the transmitter and letting it stabilize, then a monitoring company was called to measure the frequency to comply with FCC regulations.
Back in the olden days of Midwestern radio, a "Barn Dance Frolic" was a hillbilly-music program that aired Saturday nights on WHO out of Des Moines, Iowa.
Today in American high schools, including all across the great American midriff, what you see on the dance floor might also be described as a "barn dance frolic." As in, "Pigs do it, cows do it, even dogs and sheep do it . . . OH MY GOD, BILLY AND MARY ARE DOING IT IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE SCHOOL!"
Well, not exactly. Genitalia remain covered, and the kids call it "dancing."
AND RIGHT HERE in River City, the Omaha World-Herald is talking about how it's giving high-school administrators fits:
The dance style known as grinding — pelvis to pelvis gyrations, typically with the boy behind the girl — has grown popular at high school dances, but several school administrators say it's indecent.
With homecoming season in full swing at Omaha-area high schools, administrators are employing a variety of tactics aimed at cleaning up dirty dancing.
“Every school needs to stop this,” said Jonna Andersen, principal at St. Albert Catholic School in Council Bluffs, who cracked down for this year's homecoming dance.
Andersen warned students ahead of time that they must dance face-to-face, and if they didn't, the music would be stopped. Letters went home alerting parents to the rules, and administrators enlisted help from the homecoming court to encourage students to abide by them.
School officials were concerned about how students might respond, and planned to stop the dance if they didn't comply, she said. But the dance a week ago ended up well-attended, students followed the rules, and they reported having a good time, Andersen said.
ONE MIGHT say that if Catholic schools are having to tell their teenagers that dancing like you're doing it "doggie style" is morally problematic and not decent for public consumption, something has gone horribly wrong with Catholic catechesis and moral training -- both at school and at home --in the preceding decade.
Of course, one also might say that's obvious, so why bring it up? I dunno, maybe it's because "obvious" stroked out and died about 20 years ago. Back to the story. . . .
Although it's nothing new for young people's dancing to alarm the older generation, Lincoln Southwest High School Principal Rob Slauson said the current trend in dancing goes “way beyond” the days of Elvis Presley gyrating his hips on stage. The students are “simulating sex,” he said.
“We're talking about a situation now where the young lady is facing away from the man, and at times she's putting her hands on the floor, raising her rear end,” he said.
“And in some dances, the girls are wearing short skirts and the guys actually pull the skirts up while they're dancing. And then there's contact between her groin area and his groin area.”
Chaperones have a difficult time policing the dances when students form a circle in the middle of the dance floor and the adults can't see what's going on, he said. High school dances can attract more than a thousand students.
Slauson said he warned students about their dancing before last year's prom. Although the situation improved, they still resisted, he said.
School officials last June decided to step up their response and prohibit guests from other schools at Southwest's dances, with the exception of prom. It's easier for school administrators to discipline their own students than those from other schools, he said.
Slauson said the policy was a “shot across the bow” to let students know the administration was serious about cracking down.
METHINKS "shots across the bow" aren't going to touch on the larger problem -- including what these school administrators are going to be dealing with next year as their student bodies continue to marinate in this sort of cultural stew.
(NOTE: The first "how to" video probably is safe for work. The following teenage application of "grinding" principles definitely isn't -- in fact, it's what we Catholics call a "near occasion of sin." I wouldn't advise watching any more than necessary to get the idea of what kids find acceptable on the dance floor.)
MY FIRST reaction to this stuff is "They have to teach dry humping?"
My second reaction is that what ordinary folk used to consider public indecency -- and still would be considered sexual harassment in the workplace -- is what kids today consider "normal," which pretty much is the end of the line of what we consider (or at least once considered) "civilization."
Folks, this isn't just another instance of kids "pushing the envelope" and scandalizing the old folks. That ended somewhere short of dry humping.
This is flat-out simulated sex, and the only place to go from here is the real thing.
In public.
At your kid's high school.
Perhaps with your kid.
SO, DON'T GIVE me that crap about Boomers scandalizing the folks with the bump, and bobby-soxers scandalizing great-grandpa by doing the jitterbug. Nobody ever found condoms on the floor after the high-school hop back when TV would only show Elvis Presley from the waist up.
The condoms-on-the-floor thing came from this MSNBC story in February.
What we're dealing with here is mass abandonment of human dignity -- the continuing objectification of human beings, if you will. When you're "grinding" little Susie on the dance floor, you're not enjoying the company (or the beauty) of a wonderful girl with a sparkling personality and winning smile. Instead, you're getting what jollies you can in public with a butt and a vagina -- albeit covered (for now) -- that happen to have a torso, head and legs attached.
For young women, substitute the appropriate male "features."
(Please. Don't give me that bull about it being "not sexual." I'm not an idiot, and I understand the physiology of, and the stimuli involved with, sexual intercourse.)
Back about the time of the fall of Rome, in a Christmas homily, Pope Leo I reminded the faithful of who and what they were:
Christian, remember your dignity, and now that you share in God’s own nature, do not return by sin to your former base condition. Bear in mind who is your head and of whose body you are a member. Do not forget that you have been rescued from the power of darkness and brought into the light of God’s kingdom.
THAT'S JUST so much history. Leo the Great has been dead for millennia, and now so is dignity.
And judging by the cultural evidence surrounding us, we even regard ourselves as nothing more than exceptionally intelligent farm animals. Who engage in "barn dance frolics."
If I were a school administrator, I'd be tempted to break up the "freak dancing" with the strategic application of a cattle prod.
It's the only thing animals understand, after all . . . and it's not like the kiddies could complain that I was offending their dignity. That, they -- we -- discarded a while back.
Only spoiled, suburban white people could smear Omaha South as basically a bunch of "wetbacks," then make the spectacle all about themselves and how terribly enlightened they're being in, as a student said on TV today, "repairing ties with Omaha South and the Latino community."
Uh . . . what ties?
AND NOW THIS,courtesy of the Omaha World-Herald, from the coach of Lincoln East's soccer team. Get ready for a big "OY VEH!" by the time you reach the end:
Lincoln East Coach Jeff Hoham issued a statement Thursday and sent a letter to Omaha South Coach Joe Maass regarding the “green card'' incident after the state boys soccer championship game.
Hoham apologized for fans' misbehavior in throwing homemade green cards after East defeated South Tuesday night.
And he said he was not talking about the cards when he told Maass after the incident, “Fans do silly things. . . . Make sure your kids know it wasn't intentional.”
Hoham said he was referring to East fans' running onto the field and to East players' penalties when he made the remarks, according to the statement.
“In several media reports, it would appear that I was not concerned about the actions related to the display of green cards,” Hoham said in the statement, issued by the Lincoln Public Schools.
“In reality, my comments were in reference to something totally different. After the game, I was attempting to apologize for our fans running onto the field, and for my players' penalties during the game.
“I wasn't aware at the time of the events that had transpired with the horrible racist act of fans throwing green cards on the field.
“Please know that those comments do not reflect my thoughts regarding the green card incident, as I deplore racism at any level. Prejudice based on stereotypes is always intentional, and I certainly didn't mean to state that it was unintentional.”
IT WOULD SEEM that -- as he sat at the keyboard lying through his teeth to cover his ass -- Coach forgot that reporters witnessed the postgame exchange. This is known as the public-relations equivalent of "Hey, y'all! Watch THIS!"
These things never end well.
After being approached on the field by reporters and asked about the green cards, Maass walked from South's celebration over to where Hoham was standing with his team. Maass said the two had already shaken hands after the game.
With reporters watching, Maass brought up two things with Hoham — how East fans were waving U.S. flags, and the green cards that had been thrown on the field. Maass asked Hoham what he thought about that.
Maass turned and began walking away when Hoham said fans do silly things. Hoham said, “Make sure your kids know it wasn't intentional.”
Maas looked over his shoulder and said, “It never is,” and kept walking.
In his prepared statement, Hoham wrote, “When events like this despicable act occur, it is hard to deal with them, and often painful for us to reflect. However, I believe that a greater good can come from what we all learn from this experience. We can raise our awareness of what stereotyping and discrimination does when it goes unchecked, and we can work actively together to prevent it in the future.”
ALL TOGETHER NOW . . . "Oy veh!"
See, it's all about the perps, never the victims.That's the American Way . . . at least when the perps are privileged perps.
It's hard to be from the offending school. It's painful to reflect upon the really, really bad s*** we did. We can raise our awareness.
Boo f***ing hoo. It hurts to be exposed as an a-hole. I'll alert the media.
Oh, wait. Lincoln East already did.
I LOVE how East is "taking ownership" of this, just so long as "taking ownership" doesn't really involve, you know . . . taking ownership. As I said Wednesday, they say it takes a village to raise a child -- or a high school. And in this case, Lincoln East's village sucked.
With the "stellar" example put forth today by Coach Hoham, the long-range forecast for the Lincoln East community calls for a close race between bullshit and chickenshit, with chickenshit winning by the width of a green card.
Lincoln East soccer fans are patriotic. Above, we see them showing their American pride in an Omaha World-Heraldphototaken at East's exhibition game against the Russian national team.
It's heartwarming how today's youth have not forgotten such old-fashioned values as . . . pardon me? What?
It wasn't an exhibition game against the Russians? Is this an old picture then, from right after 9/11?
IT WAS TAKEN Tuesday night? At the state championship match? Against Omaha South?
Well, what's the deal with the American flags, then?
What do you mean, "Same deal as with the green cards thrown on the field after Lincoln East won in overtime"?
Excuse the interruption, y'all. I've been instructed to look at today's World-Herald. Let's you and I check it out together:
Several Lincoln East students were suspended Wednesday in connection with a postgame incident that sullied the high school’s Tuesday night boys state soccer championship match against Omaha South.
The students admitted making and distributing “green cards,” a reference to immigration status aimed at South’s largely Latino soccer team.
Also Wednesday, dozens of East students began forming a group to “plan action steps to mend bridges with the South High community,” said Dennis Mann, East’s associate principal.
“Their foremost concern is not how to protect our reputation, but how to heal hurt relationships with South,” he said.
East won the game 4-2 in overtime. But what happened afterwards marred the victory.
Dozens of green paper rectangles were tossed into the air as fans and players celebrated on the field at Creighton University’s Morrison Stadium. The “green cards” lay at midfield behind the Lincoln players and coaches as they received their trophy and medals.
As soon as the ceremony ended, several East administrators and a tearful student rushed onto the field and hurriedly scooped up the paper.
The incident offended South staff and supporters, many of whom had attended graduation ceremonies just before the game. (snip)
Mann said that only one person, whom he would identify only as a “Lincoln East fan,” actually threw cards on the field.
“One fan threw a stack of cards,” he said.
He said video of the postgame celebration confirmed that.
When pressed whether the person was an East student, an adult or a college student, as some reports have claimed, Mann would say only, “I’m going to call him a Lincoln East fan.”
“We’re taking ownership of this,” he said.
East students made the cards and distributed them, and some other students knew about it and didn’t stop it, Mann said.
The students’ original intention, he said, was to have the crowd hold up the cards en masse during the game, the way a soccer referee would hold up a red or yellow card.
“Very inappropriate, and very hurtful,” Mann said. “But we were able to put the kibosh on that, thanks to some students who did step up (and tell administrators). But we were appalled and ashamed to see the cards come out on the field.”
He said the students who had planned the green card stunt did not know about the fan’s plan to throw them onto the field.
“The kids who have had disciplinary action taken against them are also agreeing to be part of the solution,” Mann said. “They have agreed to take actions, including writing letters of apology, to help heal the hurt that they have caused.”
Lincoln East Principal Susan Cassata said East’s athletic director sent an apology to South’s athletic director. Cassata said she planned to apologize to South Principal Cara Riggs.
HOLY CRAP. That ain't good.
South, and the whole South Omaha community, had been so excited to get to the championship game. Everyone was so proud. So happy.
I got a smile on my face reading this story in Tuesday afternoon's paper:
Everywhere record-setting soccer goalie Billy Loera goes, from the hallways at Omaha South High School to the streets of his South Omaha neighborhood, he hears the cheers.
“Teachers, staff, alumni, people I don't even know at school come up to me,” Loera said. “They tell me, ‘You're making us look real good. Thanks a lot.' ”
By qualifying for Tuesday night's Nebraska state soccer championship game against Lincoln East, Loera and his teammates have given a reason to cheer to a community that sorely needs one.
South High hasn't won a state championship in any sport since a basketball title in 1990. The Nebraska Department of Education recently designated South as one of 52 “persistently low achieving” schools in the state. And some may take a dim view of South Omaha and its growing Latino population, despite the area's lively historic business district and other assets.
That might explain why cheers, tears and text messages flew out of Creighton's Morrison Stadium and spread through Omaha to thousands of Packer supporters after South beat Creighton Prep in a semifinal Saturday night.
“People are just excited that South made it to a championship game,” said Rich Gonzalez, who played baseball, basketball and football at South in the 1980s. “It's about bringing back South High tradition, bringing back some of the state tournament wins that we used to have. But the biggest thing is it's good for the community.”
Gonzalez, a South Omaha native who is a captain on the Omaha Police Department, said people from the area “know we have a great community here; they know what the community's about.”
“When you're from South High, you have the pride,” he said. “No matter what, when they're losing, when they're down, you still follow 'em, you still care about 'em.”
IT SOUNDS LIKE these kids from South -- or South Omaha -- didn't deserve what they got from the East fans, who I assume don't throw lutefisk at the Gothenburg Swedes . . . or BMW key rings at Omaha Westside.
It's 7:15 p.m. at the Omaha Civic Auditorium. Three blocks away at Morrison Stadium, music is blaring in preparation for the Class A state boys soccer final, scheduled to start in exactly one hour.
Soon Manny and his five senior teammates will be under the lights, competing for Omaha South in the school's first state championship game in any sport in 20 years.
But first first they must get to Morrison Stadium. First they must listen to speeches about journeys and goals and ideals.
Manny wants to enjoy the moment. He does. But he would rather beat Lincoln East.
A class officer takes the podium, recounts memories of “dreaded stairwells and delicious cafeteria food.” She thanks her parents. She reminds her classmates to notice life's beauty. She cries.
Manny Lira leans forward in his chair, fidgeting like a 8-year-old who missed recess. He's in the front row about 300 classmates are behind him and he already has soccer socks and spandex under his creased, black slacks. Time is ticking.
6:56 was “Pomp and Circumstance.”
7:10, “The Star-Spangled Banner.”
7:21, the school choir.
7:26, the principal.
7:32, an Omaha Public Schools administrator.
“Graduates, I implore you to dream,” she says.
Lira can't take it anymore. He looks at his teammate, Billy Loera, and grumbles.
Roni Huerta saw this coming.
Several weeks ago, the South athletic director contacted the Nebraska School Activities Association and introduced a potential problem. The state championship game is scheduled for 7:15 p.m. May 18. South High's graduation is scheduled for 7 p.m. May 18.
Some of these kids are the first in their family to earn a high school diploma. Some of these kids if forced to choose would choose the graduation ceremony, Huerta told the NSAA.
But really, she was only covering her bases. South had never won a state tournament soccer game, let alone a state championship game.
Then the Packers made state. Then they beat Elkhorn last week in a shootout. Then they beat their nemesis, Creighton Prep, in another shootout.
The NSAA moved the championship game back an hour, to 8:15 p.m.
FIRST IN their families to get a high-school diploma? That's, like, inspiring.
And still some Lincoln East fans are taunting these kids with American flags, are throwing faux "green cards" on the field? Just because Omaha South is 60-percent Latino?
Well, if there's some stereotyping to be done, let's try this: The Lincoln East yahoos sound like a bunch of overprivileged, white-bread, suburban rich-kid wankers to me.
In fact, taunting minority students for sole reason of their "otherness" differs from this in no significant manner at all:
LITTLE ROCK. Central High School. 1957.
I wonder whether, amid the other verbal and physical abuse, the white kids thought it would be really funny to pitch watermelon slices at the "Little Rock Nine"? After all, they were . . . black.
For some people, that's reason enough to be a boor and a bully. Just like for some at Lincoln East, any amount of bad behavior is justified by the twin towers of last refuge for rank scoundrels -- the First Amendment and "Hey! They're Mexicans!"
Administrators at Lincoln East say they have the matter in hand. They say suspensions were meted out.
East's associate principal said the incident Tuesday night "turned what should have been a joyful Wednesday at East into 'a day of mourning.'"
No, East. You don't get to mourn. Your kids were the perps; you get to be ashamed. Very, very ashamed. There's a difference.
You get to be ashamed because it was on your watch -- and on the watch of the parents of these unstellar members of the East "community" -- that these morons decided to "represent" for the Spartans by letting their "white trash with cash" freak flag fly. What is to be mourned is that "freak flag" happened to be the Stars and Stripes.
They say it takes a village. Well, in this instance, East, your village sucked.
THAT'S WHY I think the Lincoln East "community" has forfeited its moral right to decide on how its soccer miscreants get disciplined. By all rights, I think that "honor" should go to the Omaha South faculty and student body.
When high schools meet lipdub, it's kind of like giving Junior the keys to the Plymouth. You fear the worst and pray for your car -- and, by the way, Junior -- to come back in one piece.
And with a full tank of gas. (OK, sometimes prayer is a long shot.)
Jaded old fart that you are, you are surprised when the old heap comes back not only in one piece, but topped off and detailed, too. Applying the analogy back to the world of lipdub, that's what Shorewood High School did in Washington state (above).
And you find yourself thinking, fossil that you are, "How did they do that?" Then Junior gives you that "This moron is the BOSS OF ME???" look, and explains the patently obvious to the Old Man. IT GOES something like this:
AND THEN Junior's slacker friend drops by, and you're thinking, "Holy crap . . . here we go," and you discover, to your amazement, that he's been working hard on a project for a principal who's stationed in Iraq with his National Guard unit . . .
. . . AND THEN, a tribute for another one who's retiring at the end of the year:
DISORIENTED, you struggle to understand when the kids tell you about other youth just like them in Florida.
"What the f. . . ?" you start to ask them, then you remember what your wife told you about cussing in front of Junior, and how you're a bad example, and to knock it the . . . hell . . . off.
Then the kids show you this:
"WELL . . . HECKFIRE," you think. "Maybe I've been all wrong about the next generation. Maybe they're smart enough, they're good enough and -- doggone it -- I should like them."
Then the phone rings.
It's Junior's homeroom teacher.
SUDDENLY, your equilibrium restored, you feel much better. And you yell at Junior about that little scratch you just found on the rear-left quarter panel of the Plymouth.
One might get lost in the nature-imposed tranquility of such a night and imagine that an anger-crazed teenager hadn't, just a few days ago, shot and killed his assistant principal.
