What High Schoolers Don't Want You to Know

Sept. 20, 2006 — -- Jeremy Iversen says he remembers high school fondly -- not only his first time around at the prestigious Exeter Academy in the late '90s, but also his second, more recent experience.

At the age of 24, Iversen, a college graduate, went back to high school undercover, posing as a teenage student in suburban California.

"I had different ID cards. I had a supposed address. I had people pose as my family. … Basically every part of my identity had to be changed," Iversen said.

Iversen attended class, took tests, attended prom, and graduated in a cap and gown -- all with the intention, he said, of conducting research for his new book, "High School Confidential."

He says that what he found while posing undercover confirms many parents' worst nightmares.

"People would be doing drugs in bathrooms. … People were playing drinking games in class. … It was a whole different world for me to see. Not everybody was doing it -- but at least half the students were doing it," Iversen said.

According to Iversen, there was also a surprising level of promiscuity -- even among teens who purported to be evangelical Christians.

"Girls would sit there and tick off on their fingers who they'd slept with and who they hadn't slept with," he said.

What Iversen found out about today's teens has many in Southern California seething.

In an editorial published shortly after Iversen graduated -- when his ruse was exposed -- school newspaper staffers called his methods "creepy" and went on to write "the admission of Iversen was not only unethical but also unnecessary."

In "High School Confidential," Iversen changed the high school's name and created composite characters to protect the identities of students and teachers.

His intention, he says, is to teach parents an important lesson.

This Night

I had a dream, which was not all a dream. -- Lord Byron, "Darkness"

This night, a silvery, swollen moon floated in a heaven of diamond stars. Beneath the graceful silhouettes of tall palms, water bubbled slowly into a Moorish reflecting pool of rough stone, rocking a bed of fragrant lilies.

A steady beat resonated from the adobe arches and crumbling walls that surrounded a wide square of tables and dripping sprays of red bougainvillea. This court formed the heart of an ancient mission where Father Jun"pero Serra, driven unstoppably onward by a vision only he understood, had elevated the host and established the future County of Orange. Tomorrow the bells would toll over the chapel as they had for centuries. But here lay no space for yesterday or the morning. Here only the moment unfolded.

This night, my date turned to gaze lovingly into my eyes. Her long blond hair blew in the soft, warm air, danced above her sparkling white gown. I in my tuxedo put an arm around her shoulder as we advanced slowly along the flagstone pathways. A hundred people stood scattered across the grass, talking and laughing in couples or groups, resplendent in their evening wear. As we passed through them, my date put her hand on mine.

"Nice!" I said, smiling tenderly. "I love it. Nice touch." "See?" she said. "We're such a happy couple." We shared another vulnerable grin. "Jeremy!" Alexis Newton wore a tight pink Dior dress with her hair pulled back into two pigtails. She sipped Diet Coke from a plastic cup through a straw and waved. Her friend Padma hovered nearby, giggling.

"Hey, see, I told you I'd introduce you guys," I said. "This is my girlfriend Heather." "Hi," said Heather. They shook hands and exchanged warm smiles. "You've got a good man standing next to you," said Alexis. "Your boyfriend's really nice," said Padma. Her long black hair was elaborately done up, the silver flower ring in her nose glinted. "Thanks," said Heather. "Are you guys going over?" I asked them.