THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, September 15, 1995 TAG: 9509140146
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 09 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Cover Story
SOURCE: BY AMANDA K. SMITH, STUDENT CORRESPONDENT
LENGTH: Medium: 64 lines
``When life hands you a lemon, make lemonade,'' as my mother always tells me. On my first day of school at Celebration Station, I tried to squeeze the best out of the situation.
My day started by hitching a ride with my best friend. We stopped at Burger King for french toast sticks but discovered upon entering the make-shift school that no food was allowed in the classrooms. Back to square one. There are no lunches, yet plenty of vending machines, which seemed to stretch for miles.
The hallway was packed with students and teachers alike walking around like chickens with their heads cut off. Maps were, gratefully, being handed out.
I dug deep into my backpack to find my schedule. My destination: Room 9. So I walk through a door indicating Rooms 8 to 13 and I find myself further lost in a rat maze. The walls were painted freshly white - similar to those in a hospital. The sound of people calling my name bounced off endless corridors.
I entered my first class of the day, Psychology, where I was subjected to safety rules, information about the shuttle bus between P.A. and Celebration Station, and the tardy policy. This same process continued throughout the day with emphasis on the required pass that gains you access to the shuttle bus.
The new paper-thin walls allowed my fellow psychology students and me to hear everything that happened in the class next to us. I sensed a problem with disruption coming later this year.
We were dismissed to our next class by the sound of a whistle. Creative, considering we no longer have a dismissal bell.
I entered Journalism 3 where hugs and ``how are you?'' was exchanged between the school newspaper editors and myself. Then it dawned on us like fresh dew, ``Hey! We have no computers.'' We were reassured by the journalism teacher that, in time, we would have our precious Macs back.
Since I was on the way to discuss fund-raising activities for journalism with the student activities personnel, I decided to familarize myself with the school. Bad idea - I found myself further lost. I did find more vending machines.
When we were dismissed to our third class, I headed with three of my friends to English. I found the English classroom walls decorated with a Beatles poster, a Picasso print and even a Casablanca poster. Utterly cool.
We were again reminded by a cheery English teacher that everything in the English department was destroyed in the fire. When the teacher tried to make a joke and egged us on to laugh, one tired student raised his hand and asked, ``Do we get graded for laughing?'' Giggles erupted.
When the final dismissal bell rang, I smiled to myself. I expected the worst, but actually enjoyed being in a new, if even confusing environment. As I walked out the doors into the still warm sunlight, I thought ``What will tomorrow be like?'' ILLUSTRATION: Staff photos by MORT FRYMAN
The first school bus rolled up to the front of Celebration Station
at 6:45 a.m. on Tuesday, 15 minutes early. It was unloaded by 6:50
a.m., leaving students in the helping hands of walkie-talkie toting
assistant principal Barbara Saulsberry. Maps of the maze-like
building also were handed out to the students.
by CNB