From the 80s
for the commemorative publication 50 years high-school Mainz- Gonsenheim
Festschrift for the 50th anniversary of the Otto-Schott-Gymnasium (GyGo) Mainz-Gonsenheim
I greet the Otto-Schott-Gymnasium from a time when no one knew who this Otto Schott was and people still felt quite comfortable with the abbreviation GYGO, which perhaps today seems a bit antiquarian, and which no one noticed as being particularly outstanding. Our 80s were marked by the last hippies, who then cut their hair and changed into white suits. When we skipped school to protest against NATO rearmament, we were reprimanded with an entry in the class register: without a moral finger, but with the clear statement that one must bear the consequences for one's actions. At that time, the hippies were already becoming small capitalists with green “anti-nuclear power” stickers.
A characteristic saying for that time was, among other things: "If the popper is dead in the basement, the punker was faster again". One of the poppers, at least visually, was the current mayor, Michael Ebling, whose briefcase, his everyday utensil, spoke of his later ambitions. When a certain rhetorical talent became noticeable in the SMV, I was accordingly recruited both by the Socialist German Workers' Youth and by the above-mentioned Michael Ebling, who was then chairman of the "Marxists in the SPD".
In order not to let these late-revolutionary flowers flourish too far, we still had a few conservative teachers, including the director, who admittedly always had to assert themselves in a school where most of the teachers shouted “Ho Chi Minh” directly from the demonstrations came into civil service after the Vietnam War and began their march through the institutions.
Back then, conservative meant clear principles, characterized by responsibility and Christian ethics. Interestingly, these teachers were remembered the most: For example, my neighbor Herr OStr Karrasch, a boxy East Prussian with a sardonic laugh behind his strong, eye-multiplying glasses. We stood in a line two by two in front of the classroom, silently going to our places. Then followed Mr. Karrasch's "Good morning!" While still standing and standing straight, we answered "Good morning, Herr Karrasch!" and sat down only after his redeeming word "sit" came.
There was also Mr. Wetterling, responsible for social studies, who in his brown suit joked sardonically: "Brown is my favorite color" and above all Mr. Kalinowski, who, with his body language quite flowery and elegant, suggested to me early on that I should start my political career in to go to the CV. In class he motivated us with French songs and the interpretation of metaphors: "Qu'est ce que ca veut dire? Climb the scale with the lady? Please explain!"
Mr. Gassebner was not assigned to any clear political spectrum: Such a formative personality in German and philosophy that I still know former classmates who explain their lives with his sentences. This anecdote opens up a glimpse into the social reality of the time: On the occasion of our student exchange with France, my parents received a call from our French teacher with the urgent request whether we, as a well-known Francophile family, could take on another student. What it was all about became clear when my father and I drove to the Zwerchalle to see a classmate. At that time the residential area with the worst reputation in Mainz, we came through the stairwell to my classmate's apartment. Screaming voices led us in the right direction. The parents in fine rib underwear scurrying through the apartment, the stench of stale canned beer clearly recognizable, we took the frightened French girl in and thus converted her from a proletarian to a bourgeois alcoholic household.
This small difference made it possible that my classmate, although highly gifted, soon had to leave school, while I was able to do my Abitur without any problems. At that time you could already see what would one day become of the Green movement. When, in my graduation speech in 1988, I made fun of the Lerchenberg terraced houses with their golfs and green conscience, I received correspondingly benevolent reactions from the conservative-bourgeois teachers and a coyly duped one from the teachers who wanted to shape us as so-called left-liberals.
How far this liberality had gone could be seen particularly in the case of OStr Kretschmer, of course a biology teacher and former smoker, who acted against all smoking students with the vehemence of a Maoist group of students. He then gave us his alternative diet over a weekend in Winterburg: garlic in every meal, from morning to night, so that on the following Monday the other teachers he after the other fled from the stench from the room, only to end up directly in the arms of our German teacher Ms. Drewing, who walked down the aisle with her flowing purple cape like a feminist Joan of Arc, visible from afar.
We prefer to ignore the lazy ones in the college, who somehow all got promoted, even though some of them were sick more than half the time. We'd rather talk about the many clubs we had: Italian, philosophy, Chinese, violin lessons and the high quality of the choirs and orchestras. Unforgettable Georg Hartrath, conductor of the school orchestra, who, by leaving for Paris, made us painfully aware of how important a good conductor is for an orchestra. What Herr Hartrath was for the orchestra, Herr Brühl was for the choir.
And of course religion is also close to music: the night-long discussions with Mr. Schulte in the Jakobsberg monastery with the help of Christian-sanctioned drugs enlightened our worldview for a long time to come. With this in mind, warm greetings from the time of the first gay pop groups, the first dingy porn and the "mullet" -( short in the front, long in the back ) Hairstyles:
1. The most beautiful thing that school can offer is challenge and resistance through the power of personality.
2. Tolerance is often just an excuse for laziness.
Or as the old white man Charles Bukowski once said:
3. If you're going to try, go all the way. otherwise, don't even start. do it all the way you will ride life straight to perfect laughter, its the only good fight there is."
Adrian Sebastian Werum