How do I say goodbye? Where do I start?
Steveston High in Richmond, that was the name,
We were the Packers, and we were anything but lame.
A large group we were, as diverse as they come,
Musical instruments for others, jock-straps for some.
Am I really that sad that the old girl is being torn down?
Hell no, it's decades overdue! There's no reason to frown!
You see though, this place is where I was lucky to have learned so much,
From art history, to Spanish, to writing essays and such.
And to be the only girl in my drafting class, well that was something to see,
But who kicked all the boys' asses? Mmm...yeah, that was me.
An architect I certainly did not become, and that's ok,
But my appreciation for architecture and engineering is still here today.
My love of Mexican food also began at this school,
Well, perhaps it was at Chi Chi's during third period--hey, we thought we were cool.
So once high school is over, what have you got?
A group of people who know exactly who they are and what they will be--I think not!
The neat thing is this: over time, the school can go, but here's what will stay,
The good times will shine through, and the bad will fade away.
And as she gets bulldozed into the ground, I will say this to my school:
Thanks for all the memories and friends, Steveston High--Packers still rule.
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