When I was 12, in February 1983, a group of kids from my middle school and I went on a class trip to our nation’s capital. Here’s the postcard I sent home (my grandparents lived with us):

Below is a never-completed story I wrote about the trip after I got home. It’s hard to read (and I don’t mean the type, which you can blow up a little with the zoom feature if you need to). I mean it makes me cringe.

This story, I quickly saw when re-reading it after all these years, borrows themes and plot elements from the movie “What’s Up, Doc?”, which was a favorite of mine at the time (10 years after its release). I was evidently trying to fictionalize up a more welcoming imagined reality for myself among my schoolmates.

I never really belonged during my school years. No good at sports, and no interest in anything like that, so not completely welcome among the boys. Sensitive, nonthreatening, and “funny,” but not a girl, so not completely welcome among the girls. There always came a moment when the door closed on me.

I’m sharing this thing with you even though it mortifies me to read it. Still there are a few sentences in there that make it worth the read. If nothing else, it would be a great addition to the syllabus for an Abnormal Adolescent Psychology course.

Click on the picture of me to read my story.