Field Day

My fifth grade year was one of the most influential years of my life. I had my first male elementary school teacher. The rumor was that he was gay. Of course I bought into it, but I can't sit here and tell you that I fully understood what gay was -- what 11-year-old can? I learned that drugs were bad, thanks to the DARE program. I started learning Spanish from Senora Calvert. I learned that Student Council elections were nothing more than a popularity contest. But of all the things I learned, the biggest lesson was how evil people could be. The human condition has always fascinated me to an extent. At one point, I considered studying psychology, but then decided I didn't want to get bogged down listening to other people bitch and moan about how their mother screwed up their lives on a daily basis. So, I turned to English instead. That way, if I become overwhelmed by literary figures bitching and moaning, all I have to do is close the book.

There was a girl in class named Amanda. She was not popular, and I admit there was a little weirdness about her (especially after I saw her eat ketchup on pizza), but nonetheless, she was a nice girl who never set out to hurt anyone. She was often the butt of the jokes of the cool kids, the victim of relentless teasing and merciless bullying. But there is one day that I will never forget, as long as I live. I still get choked up thinking about it. It has stuck with me for 20 years, and it will stick with me forever.

One day in class, our teacher left the room. I do not remember the circumstances surrounding his absence, but it doesn't matter -- not compared to what happened to Amanda. Tony and April inflicted the most pain upon her. To be honest, some of the events of that day are a blur now. It started with someone who had some disappearing ink....you know, one of those gag gifts where you squirt the ink onto someone, give them a second to freak out from the irreparable stain, then give them another second to discover that it disappears. All good fun, right? Someone thought it would be funny to start squirting people with this ink; namely Amanda. Now, not only was this going to affect her, but it was going to affect the three of us who sat with her at the table: me, Ashley and Alecia.

They started nit-picking on her: tugging her hair, poking on her shoulder opposite the side they were standing, tapping her hand while she wrote so that it would mark up her paper...little nuisances like that. Well, she reacted just the way they expected her to. She started getting upset and asked them repeatedly to quit, obviously to no avail. They proceeded to become more abrasive in their attacks. Tony came up behind her, pulled her hair and then hocked a loogy in it. Amanda's face was flushed and soaking wet with tears. She could hardly catch a breath she was so traumatized. Personally, I thought the worst was over, and that someone would step in and save her soon. Boy, did I underestimate my classmates. That is exactly the moment that Tony did something I never thought anyone would have the audacity to do. He came around her and blew a spinning sidekick right into her left side. Full force. It knocked the wind out of her and knocked her straight out of her desk. The look of horror on her face is what I see every time I think about this day. Shock, terror, pain, anguish, sadness...all in that one look. I think we caught eyes for a millisecond. That is the first time I realized I could feel other people's pain. I felt what she felt. I was in tears for her. I was humiliated with her.

Finally, somehow, our teacher made his way back. It was obvious that a coup had just occurred, so we were asked what the hell was going on. The room was silent for a moment. The culprits weren't about to tell on themselves, and the rest of us were afraid to tell on them, fearing that we might be victims of retaliation. My friend Ashley and I looked at one another and decided that we were going to try and make it right. We spoke up for Amanda. We told. It wasn't long before the principal came into our classroom and demanded that we call out the guilty parties. We were empowered enough that we did not fear any repercussions. We told our principal who did what while she listened intently. I was glad to see she wanted to get to the bottom of this incident, but was shocked with her reply. I wish I could remember what she said verbatim, but I only remember the consequence itself. No Field Day. Okay, I'll say that again. No Field Day. Their only consequence was that their privilege of participating in the school's all-day recess be reneged? No parent conferences? No write-up slips? No detention? No writing assignment? NO APOLOGY?? Just no Field Day...

I suppose that did scare them a little since they were among the most athletic students in school, but it hardly seems like justice was served for poor Amanda, especially since the reneged privilege was de-reneged. Yeah, the principal took back her take back and allowed the kids to participate in Field Day fater all. I don't know if those students ever thought about what they did, or if it ever lay on their conscience. I don't know if they feel remorse or if they wish they could apologize to her. I don't even know if they remember that day. When I taught and saw kids being bullied, the memory of that day re-enters my mind. I will probably never understand what went through the heads of those kids; honestly, I have given up trying. Some things just happen -- good things to bad people and bad things to good people -- and that's just the way it is.