Unfortunately, I don't remember that boy's name or whether he continued going to our school. I suspect he had a growth spurt and I just didn't recognize him the next year! But this letter is my apology, wherever he is. And yes, if we respond to their showing us "what's what" by showing them "what's what," the cycle of suffering continues.
You know, I doubt he will read this but I have two ways that I think about writers sharing thoughts about their past:
First, what sticks in one person's mind as huge and consequential often doesn't linger in another's. It's very possible that that particular boy thought, "Wow, what weird girls," walked out the door, and completely forgot about it.
Second, my public apology may hit the screen of someone who didn't walk out the door and forget about a hurt that was done to them—not by me and not the same hurt. But perhaps my exploration of this small thing I did will help someone else understand the "kicker" in their childhood and come to terms with the hurt. That's what I've tried to do with mean Mrs. Swayze, though it's a challenge in that case.
You are completely correct. I have the experience of being that "boy" (though not feeling really victimized). I mentioned the incident to "the kicker" on Facebook, and he believed it but he had no memory of it.
Makes me cry
I hope you've written a letter that apologizes to that green-eyed boy.
I wish we didn't all have to suffer at the moment Earth turns on these big men to show them what's what.
Unfortunately, I don't remember that boy's name or whether he continued going to our school. I suspect he had a growth spurt and I just didn't recognize him the next year! But this letter is my apology, wherever he is. And yes, if we respond to their showing us "what's what" by showing them "what's what," the cycle of suffering continues.
I hope he sees it.
You know, I doubt he will read this but I have two ways that I think about writers sharing thoughts about their past:
First, what sticks in one person's mind as huge and consequential often doesn't linger in another's. It's very possible that that particular boy thought, "Wow, what weird girls," walked out the door, and completely forgot about it.
Second, my public apology may hit the screen of someone who didn't walk out the door and forget about a hurt that was done to them—not by me and not the same hurt. But perhaps my exploration of this small thing I did will help someone else understand the "kicker" in their childhood and come to terms with the hurt. That's what I've tried to do with mean Mrs. Swayze, though it's a challenge in that case.
You are completely correct. I have the experience of being that "boy" (though not feeling really victimized). I mentioned the incident to "the kicker" on Facebook, and he believed it but he had no memory of it.