When a student at our high school screwed up and failed some of his courses, his options were limited. He might be held back a year, or he could end up in summer school.

Here’s the way it worked. If you flunked one subject, you were safe, and moved on to the next grade. If you failed two courses, then summer school was in your future. Three or more failures and you’d be repeating the grade.

Let me tell you this upfront, nobody in the school system, teachers and administration, wanted a kid to repeat a year. My all male high school wanted its students to absorb as much knowledge as possible during their four year stint, then gracefully exit, and please don’t come back unless asked.

A student hanging around and repeating years meant that some young man who really wanted to learn couldn’t get in the door and had to enroll in the vocational school down the street.

My high school had a two flunk policy. They would let you fail two years, then after that, no matter how bad your grades, they’d graduate you. They wanted you out of there before you became of drinking age. Of course, you wouldn’t be allowed on stage during the graduation ceremony. They were ashamed of you after all. They would place you in the rear of the auditorium, usually the last row. The lights back there were turned off so you wouldn’t be seen, and when they called your name you were not allowed to stand. You could wave as long as it was for two seconds or less and your hand was not higher than your forehead. Then your diploma was passed back to you by the people in attendance.

The preferred method of punishment was summer school.

Summer school began almost immediately after school broke for summer vacation. The school didn’t want to give a student time to access the summer vacation mentality. Another reason for the early start was to get it over with before the dog days of summer began. As in some classrooms today, there was no air-conditioning. Even with a fan and open windows, the rooms were uncomfortably hot.

Though the classes were held during morning hours, the oppressive heat made it impossible to study. Everyone, including the teachers, became lethargic. The teachers in particular had problems with the heat. Whether they were there for the extra money, or if they too were being punished, was beside the point. Most were as miserable as the students. If you were fortunate enough to be in one of those classes where the teacher simply gave up, your class assignment would often be ‘catching up on lost sleep’.

Sometimes, however, the heat would serve to further infuriate an already angry instructor. I once heard of a classroom of students required to perform, along with their normal studies, at least twenty pushups daily.

To make matters worse, sometimes summer classes didn’t take place in your old familiar school. Maybe the school custodians didn’t want to spend a part of their quiet months unlocking doors for rowdy pupils. Or perhaps it was determined that the classrooms failed to approach the prescribed oven like conditions. It was not unusual to receive a letter a day or two before your first class stating that you were now to attend a school that was a little closer to the equator.

Summer school lasted about a month. By mid-July it was just a bad memory. There was no real anticipation about receiving your grades because nobody ever failed summer school. No matter how bad your grades, if you attended regularly, and lost at least a pound or two of sweat induced weight, you passed.

Some crafty teens used their summer school experience as an excuse not to find a seasonal job. They would tell their parents that now, in the middle of July, everything was taken. Some parents didn’t fall for this ploy and sent their wayward son straight to the local moving and storage warehouse that was always hiring. Other parents, perhaps thankful that their boy had made it through another school year, took the bait, and subsequently gave their teen a free pass for the remainder of the summer.

Anyone who has been through summer school will tell you that, no matter what your teacher’s disposition, it’s not a lot of fun. Usually a round of summer school would put a student on the straight and narrow path. That was the goal of summer school. If your mind absorbed anything during those weeks, it was sheer luck. Summer school was punishment, pure and simple. If you learned your lesson, and actually studied a bit the next school year, then the school had accomplished its task, and most likely already had a chair reserved for you in the dark last row of the auditorium.