The First Move

Like most kids I went through school with my friends from childhood. Preschool then kindergarten and so on until I graduated from high school. My parents went to our local church and since they were regulars they built relationships with other church goers who also had kids. Those kids at least most of them would attend my preschool which is now another church, go figure. We had to wear uniforms at this school everyday, and on Wednesday we got even more dressed up putting on ties and sweater vests. Although it was a charter school I remember the children still being normal. Most of our parents were in the middle class so, they were shelling out extra money for our education, but because of that we were raised strictly. The money they were shelling out put our families in the hole and they made sure we knew it. Constantly pushing us beyond our limits holding their unreachable expectations above our heads. It refined us, but also made us stubborn as we were all put into a group in which we were supposed to be the best. During this time I found out who my best friend for the entirety of my life would be. Before I knew his name both he and I requested to use the restroom. We finished, but a child’s curiosity knows no bounds and we dared each other into the girls bathroom. Well, unfortunately we didn’t plan on there being girls in there and even more unfortunate than that we didn’t understand girls in the slightest. We just wanted to know why it smelled good and why there were no urinals; they wanted to know why we were there, and instead of asking us they all became banshees. We ran for our lives and made it back to class, but the girls were hot on our tails telling everyone what had just happened. We got suspended that day (for a couple days), but when we got back we were best friends.

I don’t want to tell all of my childhood stories, but that is how I met most of my friends back then. By second grade there were at least four of us copper spooned kids, and we were all best friends. Together from third grade to sixth we ran our school with an iron fist. We controlled the playground together, got all physical sports banned together, and of course we all got suspended together whether that be all at once or one at a time during the week. In addition we hung out outside of school, and tried to always visit each others houses during the weekends and weekdays. The weekdays were tough, but our parents were in the same friend groups so it was always a possibility. Those were the best times of my life even to date. Bouncing to high on the trampoline falling off and landing on my back, getting chased by high school kids at the playground, spending hours playing video games couch co-op style are all things I would miss at the end of sixth grade. Our charter school only went to sixth grade so we had to choose which junior high we would attend, and there were only three options. Watson, Sproll or Janitell were the three public schools that everyone would choose from. All the parents were collaborating and speaking among themselves, and other children about where they would go except for my parents who had already made the decision for me. I wouldn’t go to any of the schools up for option; I would be going to another charter school on the north side of town. That day I had to say goodbye to all my good friends, and start a new journey alone. I was upset, but had I known what was to come I would’ve pleaded that much harder.

This new charter school was a nightmare. The uniforms had more options in color as we had three shirts instead of just green. They were red white and blue, but they sold us on the variety. We also had two different colored pants navy blue and khaki; on top of that the whole school was a mobile home on wheels, and we would pack ourselves like sardines in the small halls. Those were the best things that I remember about that school. Of course I made friends, but that comes naturally were social creatures after all, but apart of me died during my years there. I was never truly accepted as myself, and had to become something else entirely to barely fit in. My parents thought the move wouldn’t effect me much because we hadn’t changed houses just yet, but even they could see the mental strain I was under. I began to pull away from myself and retreat into the abyss of my mind more often. I could easily “Black out” during the whole day, and was even having homicidal contemplation on a daily basis. Which, is why I got suspended, and for the first time instead of “Wearin my tail out” my parents sat down, and had a conversation with me. For the first time they wanted to know what was wrong because for the first time they were actually worried. Not about me of course not about me, but worried that they would look bad. They looked at me like I was a sick dog, but I told them that I was just adjusting to the new school, and it was only a one time thing. I didn't want them to freak out they were doing the best they could in my eyes, and I told the truth, I never got suspended again, but I formed a shell around myself. At my core I was never the same, and I knew it was only going to get worse.