Respect

We were just bored and poor in a town of people with too much money we were brought together by the fact that our parents had mortgaged everything to get us into such a town. So our futures would be brighter as we rubbed shoulders with sons and daughters of doctors, lawyers and politicians. It doesn't rub off though, and it's impossible to connect with that closed society. So I stuck close by my friends when I could, but it seemed we never even got to share a class. I was in the 4th grade the first time someone noticed my shoes were a year or two out of fashion. It took until high school not to be noticed for wearing everything 2 years past it's time. In the summer before the sixth grade I finally got my parents to buy a pair of "British Knights" high top sneakers for me. The price being affordable should have been a sign. First day of school that year I show up with the shoes unlaced halfway and pulled tight, the oversized tongue hanging out in perfect mimicry of the cool way to wear them. Seems everyone switched back to adidas over the summer or nike, I didn't care after that, but that first day I was in 2 fights, I cried on the bus ride home, with a black eye and a swollen lip. Bad enough to be picked on for my "burger King" shoes, but for the year I was the crybaby. "what's the matter Alan you going to cry" followed me off the bus every day for years. Truth be told I'd taken worse beatings from friends, from my father, but I was so certain at the time I would click into the cool crowd. That I wouldn't have to spend all my time dodging the bullies, when my illusion broke that first day of the sixth grade I saw the whole year in ruins before me. That year at first all the guys got bored beating on me, as they all started their growth spurts on the road to high school it just accentuated that I was almost 2 years younger than most in my class. I was a midget among giants, a midget with a quick mouth that always landed me in trouble. Imagine woody allen hanging with a group of linebackers. They never understood what I was saying, but could hurt me with no effort. I thought it was good until the first girl challenged me to a fight. She called me out, a giggling group of already dating preteens backing her up. I was stunned, I scornfully returned I wasn't going to fight a girl and she punched me right in the cheek. I backed up a little but she was like a wolf smelling blood and followed tiny little fists flying at me, I could barely feel them, all I heard was the laughing. I was bright red and flushed with shame and embarrassment. I hated the people watching me, laughing at me, and she wouldn't stop. She grabbed a handful of my hair and tried to kick me in the groin, but I finally reacted, grabbed her wrist pushed her away from me. The guys jumped in to rescue her, like I knew they were going to. I had hoped if she got tired of swinging, they'd go away. They held me down, encouraged her, "Go ahead kick his ass. Kick him in the balls" I probably had tears rolling down my face. I cursed like a sailor, thrashing back and forth, way to weak to pull away. She might have felt bad or sickened, or just tired but she didn't kick me. She walked away and the guys had a no restraint against kicking me anywhere. Surprising how short this could be, how little time elapsed as a teacher finally showed up as I was pulling myself off the ground. Sometimes I hated the teachers worse than anyone, he tried to help me stand I was embarrassed enough, humiliated enough for one day and there were still a crowd of kids standing around watching for more blood, more tears to call me on. "Get the fuck off me!" and I struggled away from the teacher only to be grabbed firmly this time and almost frog-marched to the principle's office. How fat he was, with a big desk I stared over too many times. Sometimes he felt bad for me, told me I should avoid the locker room, the bathrooms between classes. Not this time. This time his words "He was trying to help you. It's not fair of you to abuse him, curse at him when he's trying to help you." One weeks detention writing the definition of the word respect over and over again. I learned my lesson. Respect: A feeling of appreciative, often deferential regard; esteem. A particular aspect, feature, or detail. To relate or refer to; concern.