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The Reign: When I graduated from the 8th grade I was really just passed through the system. I had failing grades in almost all of my classes. I had been voted most guaranteed to fail throughout life by nearly all of my teachers and I was told that I was going to fail forever by nearly all of my teachers. I think that my highest 8th grade score was a C in physical education (PE). Even my top notch test scores on History tests were balanced out by my shameful non-participation in any of the homework assignments, so I got a D in History. The same occurred in my reading class with the kindly and forever tolerant Mrs. "R." I feel terrible now, as an adult, that I didn't perform better for Mrs. "Z" and Mrs. "R." I really did betray their faith in me, but at the time I just didn't know how to perform better and I was too preoccupied by the changes in my life circumstances and the added friends in my circle, good friends from school and lots of them too. Mrs. "Z" and Mrs. "R" never held my failure against me. I don't think that these two wonderful women ever knew why I was such a disappointment but they must have sensed something and they were always good to me. It really was as if they thought I would turn-around in my own time and then I'd do something worthwhile, spectacular even. I remember the 8th grade class yearbook picture with me clustered together with my new friends in front of the brick wall enblazened with the school logo. I felt utterly invincible. There was an arrogance in my eyes and an impish tilt to my chin. I thought that I was the greatest and I had plans to turn my life around 180 degrees even if I didn't know exactly how I was going to do that yet. I didn't know where to begin, what was most important. Was it more clothes, make-up and prettier hair or more friends and popularity or was it something else? My dad hadn't hit me in over a year now and I was on my way to high school! The same high school where all my closest friends from the neighborhood attended classes! My parents wouldn't buy me the 8th grade yearbook because I was such a failure so the yearbook was a waste of money. This was to be my last chance to own a yearbook with my picture in it and it was to contain a rare photo of me before I got sick. The last day of school I signed many yearbooks for my friends and then my 8th grade reign was over. Most of the teachers thought that I was nothing, but my friends thought that I was great. A genuine Desperado of sorts, an outlaw who didn't take drugs or mess around with boys. I was truly an unusual hero on campus for that day and age when all the other cool kids were into drugs and promiscuous behavior. I left the 8th grade stoked and eager for a phenominal summer and then an even more phenomenal entrance into high school. I wasn't insecure or afraid of high school like many other kids were. I was a tough kid with a sweet side and those high school girls and boys could never be as menacing as what I'd already seen. I was pure unedited self-confidence. Summer vacation began and I had a blast! My closest neighborhood friends and I chattered endlessly and excitedly about next year and they couldn't wait to show me around the high school campus and introduce me to all their school friends! My school friends from the 8th grade were looking forward to seeing me again too! Then part way through the summer, as I was snooping through my parent's things, I discovered stacks of pamphlets and packaged papers from various private boarding schools. I didn't know what to make of all that stuff. So I showed these stacks of pamphlets and everything to my girlfriends. They were confused about it all too. I felt like something was up, but I didn't know what it was. I suspected, but I didn't know. Eventually, my parents told me that they had decided to send me to a boarding school. They needed to get rid of me because I was bringing too much shame upon my family. Maybe if they sent me away the other people in the neighborhood would forgive my parents for my existence. I told my girlfriends with a broken heart. I wouldn't be with them next year after all. They couldn't believe it, we'd been so excited about it all, we'd made so many plans� I couldn't believe it either, but I knew it was true. My parents had chosen some of boarding schools that were acceptable to them. All of the schools were expensive, but some were less expensive than others and some of the cheaper schools would take me even though I was a failure. My parents were thankful that some of the schools had agreed to take me. So I had a limited choice between a few boarding schools. I fought with my parents for a little while but they'd made up their minds. I finally chose a school and when the year began I was to be there. I wasn't afraid of boarding school at all. It was just that my best friends and I had made such grand plans to all be together. We were such a tight knit group at that time. We had become inseparable. My 8th grade friends had been counting on seeing me again too and I felt the same about them. However, the second my parents brought me to the boarding school, I was determined to make the very best of it, and I made instant friends with the only other girl who was on campus when I arrived. We became goody-two-shoes roommates and best friends in a boarding school filled with bad influence. |
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