Wednesday, January 28, 2009

1981 McNiel Jr High

1981. Seventh grade at McNiel Jr High (pictured at left) was not fun. By this time Eric W's guilt had gotten the best of him. He told all the guys at school I had hit on him during the weekends we had spent overnight together. He wouldn't talk to me anymore (except to call me a FAG). Jeff B, Kent S, Chuck R, Scott W and Danny R all followed suit. So everywhere I went (from the end of my 5th grade year up until about my Junior year in high school) all I heard anytime I saw these guys was "FAG" or "I'm gonna kick your ass, FAG!" It was really embarrassing. It was most dreadful when it was in class in front of everyone.  I initially had been friends with all of them but since Eric W lied to them, they all hated me. They were so hateful that had any one of them died (like in an accident or something) I wouldn't have cared. That's how bad it was. On one occasion in the lunch room I remember Scott W's mother visiting him at lunch. She sat with Scott and others and I could hear Scott telling his mom that I was a fag. I heard her laughing loudly and asking, "That one right there?" Then she laughed even louder as I looked over at them. I remember thinking how my mom would have never done such a thing.  It was a terrible way to spend my school days. If I would have told teachers or my parents the name calling would have only gotten worse. If I would have stood up to them I would have gotten my ass kicked since they all ran in numbers. Then on top of that I knew something was different about me...I was, after all, attracted to boys. I had been as far back as my memory could remember. It didn't even seem unnatural to me. What did seem unnatural was the hostility I got from the Eric W followers at school. Looking back now I guess I brought out something in Eric that he was not ready to deal with. It probably scared the hell out of him that he cared so much about another guy.  He couldn't (or didn't want to) deal with it. That is understandable considering our age at the time. I just wish it hadn't been at my expense but hey, am I bitter about it? Wwweeeeeeeellll,  yeah...but writing it all out here has helped I guess.  Honestly I'm scarred from the bullying and even though time has done it's work to heal a lot of it I'll probably never know the full extent of the affect it had on me and my life.  I'm just happy that people are finally recognizing bullying is a problem. Maybe someday young people can get along with their learning and not have to worry about all the distractions caused by bullys.

Now, where were we? Ah yes 7th grade...I had met this girl, Christie. She wore heavy make-up like stage make-up or something. I thought it was a lot but I thought she was very good at applying it. I would find out later that Christie was just as pretty without make-up though I don't think she ever realized it. She was kinda heavy on the bottom with big breasts, especially for an eighth grader. All the guys would talk about getting her in bed. I started to become curious since I'd never been with a guy or a girl at this point apart from the things I did with Julianna H in the second grade behind the bushes at Lamar Elementary School. One night Christie invited me over to watch Humanoids From the Deep. She wanted me to crawl through the window after her parents went to sleep. I did. When I got into her bed and having already discussed it, we proceeded to have sex. Without getting too graphic here, it felt good physically but did nothing for me otherwise. She liked me but I couldn't have a relationship with her. I was looking for something else, yeah I was definitely looking for something else...

I took tennis to hopefully escape the bullies that I would've had to put up with by taking regular a PE class. Our school's phys ed department had a mandatory shower policy. This freaked me out beyond belief and believe it or not, I somehow sidestepped the issue every single day of the school year. This was partly due to being one of the only kids with pubic hair. I just knew if they discovered this fact they would have one more reason to be ugly, jealous, immature brats. I hated these kids at McNiel Jr High. I always felt so much more mature than the kids my age. It was hard getting up every day, facing these idiots.

Later in the same school year, winter 1982, I met Tommy. He was one of the 7th graders in my tennis class. He was about a head shorter than me, kinda nerdy with glasses, blond straight hair with an accent from like Ohio or near there. He was a bit feminine but considering my lack of options (not that I was even aware of my lack of options) I developed a crush on Tommy. This carried on quite innocently for a few months until one day I decided I wanted some confirmation on how he felt about me. I wrote a note on a small piece of paper that read, "I Love You." I put it in my pocket and was trying to decide how and if I was going to give it to him. I usually walked him home first and then I would walk home. When we got to his place I finally got up enough courage to tell him I had a note for him. He kept asking me for the note until we started wrestling on the floor. At one point I threw it in his closet and ran out the door. I ran all the way home. When I got there the phone was ringing, it was Tommy. He asked what I was doing. I just cut to the chase and asked if he was mad about the note. He was silent for a few seconds and then he said, "No I'm not mad...I feel the same way as you do." So there ya have the story of my first boyfriend experience. As I write these truth's I am cringing at the thought of the various eyes that could read across these pages and into my past. LOL. Why am I writing this?

More later...

1 comment:

  1. It's so true about those who protest having something to hide.

    Case in point, 7th grade. This kid Jeffrey was always picking on me, calling me fag, the whole bit.

    This went on for a few weeks until one day I caught him outside the school and started bashing his head on the brick wall outside the school building.

    For the next two years we avoided each other.

    I found out nearly 30 years later why he picked on me. He had a crush on me back then.