Dreamed 1996/5/23 by Chris Wayan
I'm in elementary school again, eight or nine years old, in fifth grade. Slowly I catch on that I'm being lied to about school events--told false times to show up for real group activities, and told to report for constant special tests that seem pointless, cooked up just to yank me from class--and again, I often leave class, with everyone watching, to find an empty testing room... They tell me I made a mistake... again. I know I didn't.
Only me. Singled out. I think it's covert punishment for being a child prodigy, a freak, but I don't know. They don't tell me to my face. So they lie, and I end up alone where I'm not supposed to be. Not just students doing it--my teachers are in on it, at least some of them. Unsure if all are--only know I can't trust authorities. Each time I'm separated from the crowd I feel more vulnerable--marks me as different and sets me up for another cycle.
At one point I'm alone in the hall, coming back from another bogus meeting or test, when the fire alarm goes off. I start running. We're supposed to use the nearest fire exit. I don't see one, though I know it's there on the right. It's narrow, so I may have missed it in my panic. Or is this another practical joke? Remove the sign, fake a fire drill? Kids should be pouring out of the classrooms, but the hall is empty. Yet school's in session and the fire buzzer's screeching. Eerie. Is it a nuclear war drill instead? Run alone down hall toward end. My homeroom is there too, room 63, on the right. I can look in the room, and if it's empty, run out the front door. Can see there's no fire there. But I know I'll be punished somehow for this.
Later, my parents are supposed to pick me up today after school, at 6 PM? We're going into San Francisco to see a play at ACT. The school psychologist and nurse and my teachers told me that's impossible, my parents aren't coming then, because I have special tests today that will run well past six.
From their tone I know they disapprove of my parents' elitism in going to live theatre. And taking a small kid who can't possibly understand! It'll feed his egotism, already a problem. Thinks he's a little genius.
So they set up these tests to force me not to show up when I should. They'll keep me after class using their testing as detention! Punishment, not for behavior, but for being a prodigy: too young, unnatural. "That Chris, always lying." I'm glad they've turned so blatant. Know your enemies.
Trouble is, I don't know my friends. If any.
But I refuse to stay, run out to meet my parents, who do indeed drive up. I tell them what's been happening. My mother asks "Are you asking to be pulled from this school?" and I say "I don't know." And I don't; I'm just reporting a problem. I have no way to know if other schools, if other adults are any better. She asks what I'd do about it if they left me in this school. I say "I'll keep my self-respect at any price. I'll start hitting anyone who lies to me or teases me; I'll make it cost too much. I'm too small to beat up the staff who've been doing this, but I'm smart. I'll think of ways I can hurt them, until they're afraid of me too, and stop."
And I mean exactly what I say.
IN THE MORNING
The dream accurately evokes my childhood mood: suspicion, confusion, lonely harsh pride. I scorned and mistrusted my teachers as well as classmates--not rare today, but back then I stood out, especially in suburbia. I've blamed this on myself or my parents. But was I really so dumb I couldn't tell who to mistrust? I only consciously acknowledged blatant unfairness--theft, violence, provable lying (at least two teachers lied about me, going so far as to falsify test scores and records). But that's because I took quieter abuse for granted, from adults as well as kids--gossip, prejudice, teasing, rejection. Never acted out or even spoke my defiance. Indeed I tried not to think about other people's motives and feelings--treat them as black boxes, only judged their behavior. Just withdrew and trusted no one. Told myself for years I was a socally inept loner--but was my wary withdrawal wrongheaded? Now I wonder. If I was getting this much false feedback, mostly prejudice and projections about genius, then my asociability may have been a sensible response!
It had effects I often forget--after all, I did survive, with few physical scars. But inside? I still often see myself as a victim, expect lies and abuse. I still look for evidence others are singling me out, because it gives me clarity and a license to defend myself. A license I lacked as a kid.
Still fighting that old battle! An fire bell ringing in an empty school.
False alarm.
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