I’m not talking about something embarrassing, like when I started my period at school and had to use folded toilet paper in place of a pad, and it fell out of my pants leg as I was walking past “stud row”, where all the jocks hung out.
Oh no, no, no.
I’m talking humiliating, like when I was going home from school on a packed school bus, and it stopped at a busy intersection near my house, and there was a police car on the curb and two cops trying to prevent a crazed woman from ripping off her clothes and running out in traffic. Then one of my bus mates said " hey hillbilly queen, isn’t that your mom?"
Yep Mom had failed to take her medication that day.
In seventh grade I gave my “friend” a note telling her how much I liked this boy, Mike Cammerata (if you even run into him, beat the fucker for me, alright?). I think I equated my love for him with wanting to touch a distant star and knowing you will never be able to reach it. (I’ve always been a poet). Well, my “friend” gave it to him while we were waiting for the bus home from school. For the entire bus ride home, he read it aloud. It was so utterly humiliating. Everyone listened, absolutely enthralled, and I really wanted to die. I ran off the bus and played sick for three or four days because I was just too humiliated.
To this very day my face burns when I remember it.
The day when I was 13, and we had scoliosis checks during lunch break, so we had to wear our bathers under our uniform. I had lunch, raced to the nurse’s office, waited in line and was finally checked. I was busting to use the toilet by that stage, so ran into the toilets…just as the bell rang.
The square that I was, I decided I could wait and went to class instead. Of course I COULDN’T. So I wet myself in English class. The worst was that because I was sitting down, it made this horrible farting noise. So not only did I wet myself (at 13 years of age), but it sounded like I farted too.
I went into hysterics, the teacher (a real sweetie) cleared the classroom (and probably told them never to pick on me about it or he’d kill them), and another teacher took me home.
THE WORST, though, was my mum made me go to school the next day. I thought I would die.
But I didn’t.
I remember when I was in Gr. 8, and got my period… nobody bothered to point it out to me; maybe they didn’t notice. This was during lunch hour, and of course, I had to be wearing yellow pants that day (I still remember that they had a brown brand name patch on it that said “Justice” in green letters).
That wouldn’t have been so bad, except that it seemed I was the news of the school for that lunch hour, and it seemed like half the school (who knows? maybe it was half the school) turned out in that little section of the hallway (and lockers) to look and laugh at me. (and making comments at my expense, too… seemed like they were all guys too… but I’m sure there were SOME girls in the crowd) I couldn’t do anything about it since I had no idea it was coming. (at 13, who knows when you’ll get it next?)
Finally, someone came up to me and said that she’d called the counsellor, who came fairly quickly (thank Og) and took me to the counsellors’ offices, where I could fix my now-apparent problem. Needless to say, I was uncomfortable in my Socials class, being right after that disastrous lunch hour. The counsellor came to the class and said that she could give me a ride home if I wished (she’d called my mom at work and explained the situation).
So of course, I went home early that day. I didn’t want to go to school the next day, but my mom (who reassured me that she wasn’t mad about the whole thing) made me go. It took some time for me to live it down. Even the next year, I was wondering if anyone who was in the hall at the time told the new Gr. 8’s about it! (being a legend at the school is one thing, but it depends on what you’re considered a legend for… at that would definitely NOT be one of those situations!) If any of them knew about it, they thankfully did not bring the subject up. (and I knew a bunch of them that I was friendly to)
Then there was the time I was at my locker in Gr. 9 and some despicable specimen of an eighth-grader sneaked up behind me and pulled my pants down! I was so indignant that I went straight to the principal’s office and demanded that he suspend this person. (who I didn’t get along with in the first place, but still that’s no call for that kind of behavior)
Unfortunately, the guy didn’t get suspended, but instead got put on garbage duty for a short while. Not enough, in my opinion. But at least they did something… so I guess I should be grateful for small mercies.