Laurel Mill, a landmark near where my mom went to high school
here is a story that very few know about... and the ones who know it probably forgot it, so i think the time has come that it is time to mention it again.
back when i was in middle school, i was obsessed with rings, as most pre-teen girls probably are... well at the time, my mom had her old high school class ring, a high school that no longer exists. so anyway, she let me wear her ring. i wore it for a long time, all the time, etc.
until one day, i let one of my "friends" (who happened to be black) wear the ring. it was probably a friday. and, i forgot to get it back. or, maybe she said "let me wear it for the weekend." i really can't be certain.
of coarse, me NOT wearing it home from school was quickly noticed by my mom. who was quite upset, and rightly so. i explained what was to happen, that i was supposed to get it back on monday. well on monday, i didn't get it back. the girl said (and i do remember this) that she let her cousin wear it. so on tuesday, i can't remember if my mom called her mom, or if we went to her house. her mom probably wasn't home. i think there were like 20 people living in their little green house right down the street from school. they were poor.
i suppose mom did what i would have done if i were older and wiser, but boy was i embarrassed. so embarrassed that i remember that that was the end of my friendship with this girl. and, there began the year (or 2) that i hated black people (because she stole my mama's ring, at least that is what my 12 year old mind thought). (let me also add that this 'hate' was more a 'fear' and probably propagated by the raging hormones of a middle school girl.)
the next year, 8th grade, one of her "cousins" (named vicki) wanted to fight me because i didn't like her or something. i don't really remember why, but i do know she was black. our high school was located across from a shopping center that had resturants and stuff, and after school one day i walked over to get ice cream. she and 2 others followed me. in a threatening manner. ... i wasn't about to fight a black person (because at my middle school "they" were all related and by fighting with one meant you would be fighting with ALL of them), especially off school property where noone would be around to stop her from killing me. so, i ducked into kerr drugs and stayed put until my mom came to get me.
i'm sure mom remembers this because i didn't want to go back to school. ever. because i knew what was about to happen.
the next day, this girl, vicki, pushed me 'up' a set of stairs. i had my hands in my pockets and just fell right down. i didn't get up, i wasn't gonna fight. i knew that would land me in more trouble than it was worth, not only with my dark colored peers, but with my mom and dad (who would be very disappointed if i got in a fight, and i'm not really a fighter anyway...) noone knew about this, a fight never happened, i just shrugged it off and kept walking.
long story short, the adventure of high school quickly made my 'hate' (fear) of black people fade away. for one, this girl (and her mean cousin) probably dropped out of school because i do not remember them in my high school. plus, i suppose hormones kinda level off by the time you are 16 and therefore you get past all those fears and misunderstandings.
all these years later, the ring has been written off as "stolen" "melted" "lost". it was years before my mom would give me a ring to wear. she did, finally, give me some (via santa). i still have them all. the first was an emerald ring. next was a cameo. next was my very own high school class ring, with a sapphire, just like hers.
UP NEXT: what goes around comes around!