by Ronald Louis Peterson

Created on: July 24, 2009

A Painful Childhood Memory

It was a tough period in Al's life at the time. His family had just moved to New York City from another part of the country because his father landed a new job there. He didn't have any friends and the only times the kids in his neighborhood paid any attention to him was to make fun of the way he talked.

"Pop", he learned at that time, is really "soda" and "jeans" are really "dungarees" and "jimmies," those colorful candy ice cream toppings, are really "sprinkles." At least that's what he was told again and again by the kids in New York City, who always began their comments with -"Hey, stupid!"... which was then followed immediately by, "Don't you know what soda is?" or "What are jeans?" or "Jimmies? Are you making fun of my friend Jimmy?"

It got so bad; Al lost his confidence and was afraid to speak. Then the kids labeled him "stuck up." His life had taken a big turn for the worse after the move to New York that summer. The school year was about to begin and the thought that he'd get the same reception he'd gotten in his neighborhood was too much for him, so he cried.

"Why? Why did I have to leave my old friends? Why? Why do these kids hate me? Why? Why do I have to go to this new school tomorrow?"

Unfortunately, he couldn't answer his own questions, so he began the school year expecting the worst, and he got it. His parents tried to help. "Don't worry. You'll make new friends at school. Treat everybody the way you want to be treated. Didn't you have lots of friends at your old school?" They spoke as if these were universal truths about people everywhere, which made Al feel better. But, maybe they were wrong. After all, they were the ones who gave him the names for "pop," "jeans," and "jimmies." Maybe there were other, bigger differences that he didn't know about yet? "Maybe" was often a scary word for Al ever since. It said something could go either way, and that he should be prepared for both possibilities.

"Maybe you didn't hear me. I said 'No talking,'" growled Miss Lemur, as she leaned over Billy Bensen's desk, put her hand on his shoulder and firmly squeezed. All the other second-graders in the class, including Al, watched with interest as Miss Lemur smiled a sneer while she surveyed the room and looked into the eyes of all her new students. Al and the others knew two things right away - Miss Lemur was a no-nonsense teacher and this wasn't first-grade anymore.

With each passing day, they learned

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