Saturday, March 19, 2016

Green Bikes

I used to have this green bike. When I was a kid, in Michigan.   I went to one school, McBrite, for kindergarten.  I don't remember a lot about the rest.  I remember walking past the McBrite school and commenting angrily to my sister that "the Board of Education" was taking it away from us.  I also remember walking down that long street next to McBrite and smacking a girl I knew in the face with my big book bag and crying when I did it.  When the crossing guard asked why I was crying I told her that my mother had told me that if Bree hit me one more time, hit her back.  And I did.

I started thinking about his because I thought my early schooling in Michigan was idyllic.

McBrite was shut down and I was sent to Sherwood the next year, I guess.  It had an open-concept, pod thing where all of the classrooms looked out on to each other but there was a central space in the middle where we could all get together.  We ate in the library, which was fine with me, I habitually read some Eleanor Roosevelt biography.  They served us from space-age carts that the lunch ladies pushed around.  Everything was covered in aluminum and the weird, packaged smell permeated the room.  I thought it was cool.

I remember walking home from Sherwood and adventuring through the woods.  It was beautiful, snow covered, and we would take forever coming home as we walked through the mansions of Huntington Woods and played in the snow and eventually made it back to our own backyards.

My mom used to walk us to school, as we were on the mile mark where we didn't qualify for busing. We must have talked her into getting us bikes.  My sister won one in some strange Halloween party at the school, it was a dirt bike.  Somehow I ended up with the green bike that I probably thought was awesome at the time. I rode that bitch to school.  But something happened.  I remember the kids yelling "Whose green bike is that!!???" and I walked home, leaving my bike at school, humiliated, not willing to claim my own bike.

My mom was pissed.
"Why didn't you bring your bike home??!!"
She took me back to the school, everyone was gone, and we took the bike home.
I can't remember what ever happened to that bike.

At Sherwood, I remember other days. I was watching the kids spin around on some sort of playground device.  I liked what I was wearing, I was wearing new clothes, they were pink, it was early in the school year.  The kids were spinning, but I walked inside and asked them to call my mother, because I felt too sad to continue the day.

I remember getting attacked by multiple boys on the playground.  I don't know why.  They wanted to fight me, and I was freaking out and rolling and trying to get away from the wrestling match.  I was horrified.  They were pulling my hair, throwing down, and no one was interfering.  I fought and ran, none of the teachers even noticed.

My "best friend" told me slyly, later, in our neighborhood,
"It looked you were fucking".