Kooties

I missed Donny. We never did say goodbye. When I went into Grade 2 in Mrs. Wolfe's class, Donny ended up with another teacher. He ceased to exist the year I moved and I don't remember him thereafter. But now I missed him in my new school. The boys were mean and the girls were influenced by the majority. I stuck out like a sore thumb--and the more I tried to fit in, the more ridicule and backlash I brought unto myself.

I remember recess time the most. That was when the bullying was at its worst. Back in the early 80s and 90s, 'bullying' did not exist. No one acknowledged it to be a problem or a social issue. But I was aware of it and no one tried to remedy it. Not the teachers, the parents or the children I went to school with. I was incessantly teased because I was an easy target. My clothes were not designer, let alone even matching. I implored my mother to go out and at least buy me one acceptable outfit but she always smiled in return and insisted my friends had to accept me as I was. When I pleaded with my father, he was not impressed with my 'material attitude.'

"Why are you always trying to be like the other children? Be yourself and people will accept you," he insisted."You are smarter and more intelligent than all the children put together in your class!"

I sat on the front porch with my father listening to now what became a routine lecture after I would come home teased and dejected. "The best thing is to ignore them. If you let them get to you, they have won. If you ignore, they will get tired of teasing you," he said while moving out of his lawn chair to pick up some garbage off the front lawn. "You are too emotional and trying hard to be accepted. Take your time. We just moved here. Just IGNORE them." He shook his head and walked inside the house. I remained outside, alone, hugging my legs and burying my chin in my knees. He just didn't understand. He grew up in a place where everyone was the majority in Pakistan. They all wore the same clothes, ate the same food, spoke the same language and had the same skin colour.

Here I was, the only brown girl in the school, with funny clothes, static hair, and an ever-growing moustache. I lay awake that night thinking about what my father advised me to do. IGNORE them. Use my intelligence. Don't try so hard.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

When the school bell rang at 10:15 the next morning, my heart was thumping loud in my ears. I needed to set my plan in motion. The small, freckled boy jumped from his seat, grabbed his coat from the hook and beckoned to his friends. He never liked sitting next to me, especially when I covered my answers with my arm every time there was a test. I knew it was a bone of contention for him but if he was going to tease me, there was no way in hell I was going to let him cheat and get a better of me!

They were waiting outside the portable when I came out. A group of boys: some from my class and others in Grade 3. I looked for my only friend Tara who waved me over to where they were playing double dutch. We started to play but one of the boys grabbed the rope and interrupted our game. He came over and shoved my shoulder.

"You're it! You now have the KOOTIES!" he screamed and everyone ran in different directions, away from me. I stood alone and looked around. Tara stood with three other girls and shrugged her shoulders. I never forgot this gesture--the shrugging of her shoulders. I took it personally and felt she was shrugging me off to fend for myself since she did not possess the power to help or support me. Part of it was that we were outnumbered. The other part was solely selfishness. Even though she remained my friend for many years, well into Grade six, I never felt so alone until that day. And a result, my reaction was rash. That was one of my problems. Instead of weighing my options, ruled entirely by emotions, reasoning always came in second. I had an audience and I was going to take advantage of it.

"You don't have to push me to give me the KOOTIES! It seems I had the KOOTIES when I moved here--which is really unfair! I have said and done nothing to you to deserve this!" I yelled, pointing to my freckled enemy."If that is how you feel, then I will infect all of you with these stupid, invisible KOOTIES!" I turned to the entire crowd who had grown still while I went off in my tirade on the playground. "That's right! How can I have them if you cannot see them? Does he even know what he is talking about?! You listen to him as if he rules the playground! I don't know why you are friends with someone who is SO MEAN! Today I may have the KOOTIES, but tomorrow it will be one of you and then you will understand how I feel!"

I stopped to see everyone's reactions. Tara looked down at her feet, the rest of the girls looked sheepishly at each other and the boys did not know where to look. The freckled boy gave me a menacing look. I had just challenged the ringleader and embaressed him in front of his pack. He did not like this. We had a staring standoff and I did not move. He then took one step back and yelled, "She has the KOOTIES! RUN!"

Fight fire with fire. The blood rose in me and I took my hands out of my pocket and surged forward.

"I WILL GET ALL OF YOU WITH MY KOOTIES!!" I screamed pumping my fist in the air. I ran and caught up with each and every boy and hugged them until they could not breathe. I saw fear in their eyes as I announced that my KOOTIES had been transferred to them. In the back of my mind, I heard my father's voice telling me to ignore them, use my words not my actions, but I soon realized that my speech to the entire recess population had the opposite effect on them all. They would not listen to intelligence or reason. Flight or fight. And each time, I chose fight.

Until my teacher came out of the portable to see what all the fuss was about. He blew his whistle as I was on top of the freckled boy, hugging him so tight that he relented and cried out for help. Mr. Waller came over just in time as I jumped off, smoothed out my clothes and smiled at my teacher who eyed me suspiciously.

"What is going on here dear?" He was always very polite with me and I reckoned it was because I was the new girl.

"Well Mr. Waller, it seems everyday I have the KOOTIES and I will always have them unless I give them to someone else. I tried to explain to the class that if I have this disease you would be able to see it but no one can show me that I have them. They don't understand what I am telling them so I thought I would give it to all the boys. Clearly, everyone looks the same as before," I stated, pointing to all the boys who were panting, grabbing their knees and catching their breath.

Mr. Waller stroked his chin. He was sizing me up. I stood up straight and waited for his judgement. I knew I would be vindicated. There was no arguing with my logic.

"We do not run and physically assault others during recess." he concluded. "But I do see where you are coming from. However, all of you deserve some punishment for this behaviour," he said looking at me and the boys in my class. The freckled boy began to protest but Mr. Waller put up his hand. "No futher discussion. The entire class has detention after school." The bell rang and the class headed back to the portable, exchanging exasperated looks but I lagged behind to walk next to Mr. Waller.

"Kooties do not exist. I don't have them but they think I have them. Its not fair! I remarked.

Mr. Waller put his hand on my shoulder and gave me the dumbest advice I have ever heard a teacher give their pupil. "Kooties exist if you believe they exist. You are the only one who doesn't believe it. Maybe you should, so that you are like the rest of the class." And with that, he walked off.

I stood still on the field, trying to comprehend what he had just said. The realization was deafening.

They say, by age seven, your personality has formed. You are who you are and you are an unique individual.

I sighed deeply. It was then I knew, alone on that field, as if a lightening bolt had struck me, no matter what, I would never try to fit in.

And I would prove to them all, that kooties were what we made of it.