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{Reservations} {Tickets} {Map} {Photos} {Souvaniers} {Postcards} {Design} 2003-02-24 | 2:35 p.m. Way back in Mrs. Buck's 4th grade class, there was a small scale war abrewin`. Like any other classroom of kids in a whitebread suburb, we had the 'cool' kids, and we had 'nerds'. For some reason, maybe it was hormones, or maybe we were bored after 5 months of eating, singing, playing, and studying all in the same room 5 days a week, but for some reason or other, people were getting heated and clearly defined groups were morphing out of what used to be 'our class.' Back then, the concept of bringing a truck full of guns and explosives to school and blowing everyone up to kingdom come hadn't occured to anyone yet. Well, ok I admit it. I did think of it once or twice but lacked the energy. Sooooooooooooo, anyway, angry factions were forming and my teacher, Mrs. Buck, who was by the way one of the most beautiful teachers I've ever met in my life, decided to try and intercept some of this group bullying, and she wanted to do it thru group discussion. Which is really just bullying with permission, but I digress. She waited until the afternoon, when we were all wiped out from either being chased with sharp sticks or the hard work of finding and sharpening and then running with said sharp sticks. After some questions, she finally uncovered the ugly little general notion that the class had. Apparently, everyone thought there were 2 'sides.' The friends of Barbara Fenner and Robbie Yawarski aka the COOL KIDS.... and then the nerds. The unpopular. The untouchables. The unclean. Mrs. Buck asked Robbie and Barbara to point out who was on which side, and they started to go name by name indicating who was COOL and who was a fool. So, I, like a jamoke, sat and waited to hear it. Julie...cool. Anne...cool. Kathy....cool too. Cheryl... Nope. On and on and on. I thought my lungs and heart would clench up into a teensy ball and disappear if they lumped me in with the uncool, unclean, unloved loosers. Now I look back, diary, and I'm delighted. Never heard my name, and no one even realized it. There's something to be said for being an individual. I've never had to worry about getting a light, fluffy creamy filling piped up my butt. Miss These? absence of life - 2003-07-28 |
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