do you remember when you were in middle school? the cool fifth graders sat in the back and made fun of the little kids, you made faces at the cars behind you and gossiped with your girlfriends about the cute older boys. children raced to be the first one on the bus, you compared lunches and when your mom gave you tuna you were ostracized. buying your lunch was uncool (it showed that your mom didn’t care.) recess was the best time of the day- girls played hopscotch behind the building while the boys raced around with kickballs. regardless of your ability to play kickball or your interest in hopscotch, you had a position to fill. the boy with glasses who read the dictionary on the front step was cute but you could not talk to him (cause he was different).

as you grew into maturity, the bus became an annoyance (probably because while you were the queens last year, you are the newbies this year). actually, middle school caused headaches on a regular basis. you got your period for the first time and were ostracized for it. actually, you were a freak if you got your period, if you didn’t; if you had a large chest (thus requiring a brassiere), if your chest resembeled your brother’s; if you could shave your legs, if you didn’t. they laughed at the boys for having facial hair and for not having facial hair; for having wetdreams and daily erections, for not being aroused; for having a high voice, for having a low voice. everyone got mocked in middle school. it was the regular way.

middle school continued. you didn’t get enough sleep. you didn’t like your classes. your english teacher was hot and the french teacher with the heavy accent who smelled annoyed you on a regular basis (you knew it was because you could not pronouce “au revoir” correctly). you got teased for dating the boy who now has contacts and has upgraded to nietzsche; it doesn’t matter- you kissed him once during the school dance and broke up before the next weekend. ahh, middle school relationships.

eighth grade hit and you were once again the queens of the school. you protected your 6th grade brother in a fight so he got teased for being a wimp. your class held a walkout in the name of peace (although most of your class thought it was about recess). your classmate was convicted for murder. your utopia started falling apart.

high school was painful- no doubt about it. yeah, you got your liscense thus earning your freedom but along with it came the realization that freedom means nothing without money. so you still walked to places. boys vs girls and who was dating who was the conversation _every_ day at the lunchroom table. and you hated it. even hamlet was more interested (of course it was, it starred mel gibson…). dorks vs cool kids became an issue and factions broke out. fights were no longer “i hate you” “i hate you too”. now they involved knives and guns and spray cans and eggs and toilet paper and destruction. kids were having kids; you knew people with HIV; classmates died in car accident; others killed themselves; murder hit home; rape was an actual issue. although you never thought it would be, being homosexual or non-white meant social suicide. you could not wait until college where it was bound to be better. your graduation was freedom.

yeah, growing up hurt. and “being an adult” is _not_ fun. your parents were right- being young is far more fun. whoever would have thought? looking back, i realized something. no day is perfect. your environment will never be a utopia. other people will have their problems. what i know now is that i should not try to escape it, rather i need to accept it and deal with it as myself. that too is a sad realization.

me and all the kids from the neighbourhood
we play out in the street all summer long
rule was we had to go home at nite when the streetlites came on

we were oblivious to the rest of the world
we hold up the cars in the street
we always played boys against girls
and both sides would cheat

strange men would stop their cars at the curb
say “hey sweetheart, come here”
and i would go up to the window
and they would have their dick out in there hands
and a sick little sneer

i’d say “here we go again
yeah, this time you win”
i would feel dirty; i would feel ashamed
but i wouldn’t let it stop my game

we would play hide and go seek
territory would be the whole block
sometimes the older boys when they find you
they wouldn’t want to tag you
they just want to talk
they say “what would you do for a quarter?
come on, we don’t have that much time”
i’d think for a minute and i’d say
“ok, give me the quarter first. fine”

this time you win
here we go again
and i would feel dirty and i would feel ashamed
but i wouldn’t let it stop my game

i remember my first trip alone on the greyhound bus
a man who put his hands on me as soon as nite fell
i remember when i was leaving how excited i was
i remember when i arrived i didn’t feel so well
i remember the teachers who got me so sick
scared, i went into the bathroom and i through up in my hair
i could go on but you know what it just gets worse
so i should probably stop there.

girl, next time he wants to know what your problem is
girl, next time he wants to know where the anger comes from
just tell him this time the problem is his
just tell him the anger just comes
it just comes