Still not rested
Jun. 23rd, 2001 07:30 amI woke to a disturbing memory of childhood. I can't remember for certain, but I think it was the start of my school-years torment from the other kids in school. I was very young - probably not quite 6. I had just been transferred from the kindergarten to the 1st grade after what felt like a long fight with the public school administration to put me in a class where I might actually learn something.
I had gone to the bathroom at recess, and while I was in the stall, some other girl had started knocking on the door asking who was in there. I didn't know her, and I was afraid to speak. This started some sort of small commotion as the first girl began gathering other girls in an attempt to find out who was in the stall. I sat there, paralyzed with fear as they began climbing the walls to look over at me. "There's some kindergartner locked in the bathroom!" they said to each other, pounding on the walls, "come out, Kindergartner!" I couldn't move. All I wanted to do was finish what I was doing and leave, but now I couldn't because all these people were watching me and waiting for me to come out. And I was too afraid to speak out, to tell them who I was and that I belonged in that part of school, and I'd like a little privacy, thank you.
I don't remember how it ended. I think one of them must have called the yard duty lady, convinced that I was a lost kindergartner who had some how broken out of the fenced in kindergarten playground and made it into a bathroom on the far other end of school. I've just never understood why it was so important to them to know who was using the bathroom. Why would anyone want to talk to someone through a bathroom stall if they didn't know them?
I'm going back to bed now. Maybe I can sleep this off.
I had gone to the bathroom at recess, and while I was in the stall, some other girl had started knocking on the door asking who was in there. I didn't know her, and I was afraid to speak. This started some sort of small commotion as the first girl began gathering other girls in an attempt to find out who was in the stall. I sat there, paralyzed with fear as they began climbing the walls to look over at me. "There's some kindergartner locked in the bathroom!" they said to each other, pounding on the walls, "come out, Kindergartner!" I couldn't move. All I wanted to do was finish what I was doing and leave, but now I couldn't because all these people were watching me and waiting for me to come out. And I was too afraid to speak out, to tell them who I was and that I belonged in that part of school, and I'd like a little privacy, thank you.
I don't remember how it ended. I think one of them must have called the yard duty lady, convinced that I was a lost kindergartner who had some how broken out of the fenced in kindergarten playground and made it into a bathroom on the far other end of school. I've just never understood why it was so important to them to know who was using the bathroom. Why would anyone want to talk to someone through a bathroom stall if they didn't know them?
I'm going back to bed now. Maybe I can sleep this off.