How does one become a pirate? Do you need a ship with tattered sails, a parrot sitting on your shoulder, or a treasure map that leads to a mysterious X? Not necessarily. Take my mom, for example––with a high school diploma from South, she’s a Pirate for life.

     Ginger Gold Schnitzer––also known as “Miki’s Mom” for those of you who have seen the back of her Pirate Marching Band sweatshirt she wears at football games––graduated from South in 1986.

     While she’s been a professor, lobbyist, township committee woman, and a member of the U.S. Electoral College, at one point she was a high school trumpet section leader, a marching band vice president, and just another Pirate waking up early to make the school bus.

     She still wakes up early for that South bus today, except now it’s because I’m the kid catching it. 

     Over the past four years she’s been to all the band and orchestra concerts, marching band competitions, and small ensemble nights, not as a musician, but as the parent of one, oftentimes recording pieces I played on her old trumpet.  

     You can take a Pirate off her ship and set her sailing on new waters, but I’ve come to see you can’t take away the pride she has for her school. 

     When I asked her about Pirate pride, my mom believes she has more school spirit now than when she was a student here herself. While I can’t vouch for what she was like in the 80s, I’d have to agree.

     In her arsenal of Pirate gear she has a beanie, a scarf, a rain jacket, hoodies, t-shirts, sweatpants, and a pair of socks. I fear the day the school decides to sell Pirate-themed shoes. 

     Decked out in her green and gold, she’s watched me navigate her old stomping grounds and travel some of the seas she once sailed herself. It’s something in which she finds comfort.

     “I just feel like I see my life in full circle and I feel complete in a way that I can’t explain,” my mom lovingly observed while reflecting on her time as a parent at South. 

     This school means a lot to her, and she makes it known.

     Growing up, I heard stories of poems published in Echoes, an epic lip-syncing act for a school talent show called “Putting on the Hits,”  and the infamous first time my mom drove to South.

     Now she has even more tales to tell. She’s been inducted into our Hall of Honor, spoke on a career day panel, guest lectured in AP US Government classes, and finally got a full tour of South as part of our school’s 50 year celebration.

     What’s the fun thing about touring your high school 39 years later? There’s no more phone booths for students to use.

     Surprisingly, some things in the building have stayed exactly the same. My mom especially loves the commons, because she said, “It’s just as I remembered it.”

     Soon, I’m going to have to do some remembering too. For me, graduating from South is bittersweet–not just because it is the end of a chapter, but because it means my mom will once again set sail from a place that has meant so much to both of us. 

     In speaking to me about it, my mom said, “Part of you leaving South this year makes me so happy and so proud. But at the same time, so sad that I won’t have an excuse to roam the halls.”

   But I know she’ll find a way to continue contributing to South, either with her intellect or sheer Pirate pride.

     As for me? I feel so lucky to have sailed at South for four years, and to have done it alongside mom. 

     P.S: She graduated from Rutgers––and I’m going there next year… Here we go again.