Rather than engage with a curriculum that challenges each student on an individual level, Calhoun High School instead opts for policies that glorify surpassing the bare minimum, i.e., graduation. Graduates enter adulthood not prepared for university-level rigor, equipped only with the knowledge for a nine-to-fiver at the local power plant or fast food restaurant. Knowledge regarding post-graduation careers is limited and highly biased, with focus placed only on admission to a community college or joining the army, Marines, etc. As for all other universities that aren't burnt orange or maroon, you're left on your own.
The small light shed on non-athletic accomplishments is utilized to further boast improvement of the school program, a diversion employed to conceal the fact that whatever achievements occur are not because of faculty encouragement or aid, but because ambition and preparation are entirely of the individual. Most clubs feebly attempt at leaving a positive impact on the community (i.e., one that doesn't involve adding another member to the community at 14-17 years old), but ultimately end up as free, yet meaningless, additions for college applications. Additionally, most clubs consist of the same 10 people–4 of which juggle around who gets to be what officer–that is, except for Student Council's record number of ~100 members, if you don't count the 90 or so people who stop showing up after realizing that you don't have to attend to say you're in it.
While recent program additions such as the vague yet forceful introduction–or mandate-of Chromebooks or a career-narrowing four-year track might suggest future improvement, it only shows the far-too-late realization that CHS has allocated so much time and funding to the athletics program (which, for now, has begun its own downhill tumble) that it has accidentally forgotten, yet again, the point of the public school system: education. Students are actually restricted from trying to take upper-level courses, as shown by the increasingly limited number of Advanced Placement courses, most of which are taught by unqualified teachers. Those who do take the initiative to seek outside education while in attendance at Calhoun High School typically meet discouragement, restriction, numerous unaided struggles, and, if you're lucky, overheard tidbits of the administration gossiping about you.
As Calhoun High School continues its clumsy waltz towards recognition for something other than weekly fights, drug checks, or other expected, yet still unstopped forms of crime, I suggest you search elsewhere for opportunities that don't stop at calculating–with the help of a teacher–the lowest grade you can make and still manage to scrape by, for the fourth consecutive year, with a C average. Sure, there are a few good memories you get to look back on with laughter, nostalgia, and the unrelenting traces of resentment (such as the day administration rewarded students free ice cream for not ditching school due to rumors of a school shooting), but after reflecting on four years spent placing bets on how many students will drop out/be expelled, you just might realize that you wish you attended a school whose biggest accomplishment isn't being listed in various online rankings of the "weirdest Texas high school mascots.â€