The Classes of Ames High: Roasts and Reflection


Jonathan Watt, Opinion Editor


August 23rd: The first day of school. You trudge out of class, dragging your feet across the ground, and make your way into the main hallway. However, you come across a mind-boggling obstacle: a 3’7” gremlin, darting to and fro in an unpredictable zig-zaggy fashion across the hall, wielding the dreaded rolling backpack.

As he powerwalks through the crowd, one of his wheels clips your ankle and your confusion instantly turns to pain and rage. What is the point of such a useless invention? Why can’t he just wear a backpack like everyone else? But it’s too late. Your anger was to no avail, because now they outnumber you. The underclassmen, a population filled to the brim with such cryptids, have invaded.

The Freshmen aren’t the only perpetrators of such hijinks. Every class has its ebbs and flows, and no grade is without its quirks — not least of all, the upperclassmen and our endless egos. This is why I am making a comprehensive roast of Ames High’s student body. Hey, I’m just saying what you’re all thinking.


1.) The Freshmen

Sometimes the stereotypes really are true. But rolling backpacks and running in the hallways aren’t my only concern when it comes to this gigantic class. Every day I leave a classroom and turn right to walk with the flow of hallway traffic — you know, like any clear-thinking student should do. However, it astonishes me how many of these children don’t know simple hallway etiquette. Countless times I’ve walked down the halls only to find a huge mass of middle school-esque, almost-people rushing directly at me.

My life never fails to flash before my eyes as I envision a painful, trampling death under their velcro Sketchers, donning their graphic Minecraft t-shirts. Lately, I’ve found myself just bracing for impact and strolling right through. Have there been casualties? Yes. Do I regret my actions? In the wise words of myself, “Freshmen are just middle schoolers learning to become REAL people.”

In the wise words of myself, ‘Freshmen are just middle schoolers learning to become REAL people.’

And what wise words those are. But by the time you all reach the ripe old age of 18, you’ll look back on your Freshman self and think about how your actions as 14-year-old shaped you into who you are now.


2.) The Sophomores

Let me just say that the Sophomores will always be Freshmen to me. No matter how tall you get and how mature you begin to act, there is something about this class that undeniably screams “I haven’t left the 8th grade!”

Sophomores are simply freshmen with an added ego. Every time a new freshman class rolls into school in their fresh new Heelies, sophomores are always the first to take a poke. The symphony of “freshie fishies!” that I hear in the hallway on the first day back is really just the day-old sophomores, happy that another target has arrived for taking cheap jabs. Maybe instead of directing your newfound authority over the freshmen, try looking at yourself. Change out of those Under Armor shorts and into some real clothes.


3.) The Juniors

OH, so they’re just making EVERYONE an upperclassman now? Yeah, okay.

At the end of my Junior year, one thing was on everyone’s minds: how is best to warn our poor teachers for the daunting task that was to fall upon them? To civilize the rowdy, largely incompetent class of 2020 was certainly not for the faint-hearted. And yet, the teachers succeeded… halfway.

Now, somehow, this class has always stolen our thunder. Better athletes, better grades, yada yada- it’s a bore, really. And yet when there was pee in the soap dispensers, who was to blame? Yeah, I have my suspicions. I’m watching you.


4.) The Seniors

Well, at least we tried.

The Senior class just tries too hard, in fact. Inside every senior with their chest puffed out and their chin up, is a freshman who has merely added a couple of feet to their height. Underclassmen, don’t be fooled- that senior strutting around and giving you life advice is just as ill-equipped for their life as you are.

Now, just add in a dose of senioritis and general depression coupled with anxiety for what will happen to our miserable lives post-graduation, and you’ve got a bonafide senior ready for doing absolutely nothing in every single class.

Jokes aside, is this how we all want to be remembered? Every year, all we’ve done is rant about the tiniest little inconveniences that have been caused by some unfortunate freshman just trying to make their way around a scary new environment. We have all been through the same experiences, the same stresses, the same problems. We’re a student body of 1,400+ people who live in a cramped school building – the least we can do is to show each other the support and love that we deserve as human beings. Let’s show each other that AHS is a welcoming place.