Time passed, and I graduated from Saint Didacus, transferring to Bishop Alemany High School, a private Catholic secondary school located in the San Fernando Valley, a region of Los Angeles, California. The school enforced strict rules and policies outlined in its Parent-Student Handbook, with disciplinary matters overseen by the Dean of Students. This guy took his job seriously, walking around campus during lunch breaks measuring students’ hair. It sounds silly, but the school had a specific rule governing boys’ hair length. Bald or shaved hairstyles were prohibited, and hair had to be at least 1/4 inch long.

I also recall the school’s strict uniform policy and its emphasis on maintaining a particular image. The administration believed that certain fashion trends conflicted with the religious and traditional values the school sought to uphold. Oversized clothing, baggy pants, and shaved heads were viewed as possible signs of gang or crew affiliation. The school’s philosophy emphasized neatness, cleanliness, and modesty, promoting the belief that proper appearance encouraged good behavior, strengthened morale, and enhanced self-respect.

I always kept my polo shirt buttoned to the top and tucked in, but I had a habit of cutting my hair close to the scalp. I wasn’t necessarily bald, but anyone familiar with hair clippers knows that a number one guard leaves approximately 1/8 of an inch of hair. In my case, that was half the minimum length permitted by the school. The Dean of Students would single me out, approach me with a smile, and write me up, warning me not to cut my hair so short again. But ninth grade was when things began to get worse. My addiction was beginning to take a toll on my memory, self-respect, and determination to maintain a high GPA. Instead of concentrating on earning A’s and B’s to prepare for college or a prestigious university, I was more concerned with getting high and staying high. My marijuana addiction had turned my world upside down.