The Turning Point

I have a few ideas for blogs in the pipeline so those of you still reading have that to look forward to.

But how about a traumatizing story from my childhood in light of the holiday season?

The other day I realized just when I lost my chance to be cool as a child. In sixth grade I sat in the back of the bus. There were three of us who sat back there, Dean, Robbie, and myself. And those of you who rode buses to school understand the importance of the back seat. For those of you who don't, the back seat was reserved for the coolest kids on your bus route. Nobody messed with them, nobody bullied them. It was the top of the pecking order and those below you had to move up if they tried to take your place. All this despite transferring to my grade school from Catholic school and being a relative nerd (I was in my schools enrichment program for example). I had managed to work my way to the back. I can't recall even particularly liking Robbie and Dean.

Our next door neighbors at that time had two children, Jeff and Michelle. Jeff was three years younger than me. Michelle was about two years older. Jeff and I had been friends but the age difference was becoming pronounced. One day while walking home from the bus, Jeff started making fun of my younger sister who was the same age as Jeff. Now to be honest, I often participated in this activity. I'm her older brother, not a saint.

But today it was really hurting her feelings and something familial stirred in me. I told him to stop. He didn't. So I hit him in the arm. Yet he kept it up. So I punched him in the stomach. Not surprisingly he stopped. And I realized what I had done, basically beat up a little kid. So I did the only thing a big brother does when he has heroically stood up for his little sister. I ran home and started crying to my mother.

Guess who she was sitting around having coffee with. Yep, Jeff's mom. I have no idea what affect this had on their relationship but at least I was crying about it, not bragging. I don't recall being punished by adults over this. My sister was quick to confirm that Jeff had been rather mean to her and all. But the real impact on me was yet to come. Remember what I said about Jeff having an older sister? Well, by this point she was a burner in training. And Robbie and Dean were burner hopefuls. It wasn't long before word was out among the burner grapevine that I was to be shunned by them. And if the burners reject you and you aren't sporty or rich enough, it isn't long before the "cool" kids reject you as well. And that was it, my fate was sealed. No more back of the bus. No more in crowd. Heck, younger kids started realizing my new status in the pecking order and even some of them started hassling me. Especially the ones bigger than me.

Jeff, Michelle, and their family moved away not too long after the punching incident. But the damage would follow me for years. Eventually I managed to get ignored most of the time. I found social circles of similar damaged goods. And the bus became a place to nap if I wasn't stuck sitting in front of someone who might try to hassle or bully me. My senior year I had a car, though I drove to school alone. And by that time I found punk rock and freaked out the cliques by not caring that I wasn't in a clique. And escaping to college. Ahh, college. Maybe that's part of the reason I became a professor. My life was reborn there.

Not surprisingly I haven't made it to any of my high school reunions. Class of 1988 Moon Senior High. Let's see if they somehow track me down through this.