The Earliest of the Early

     I guess it was about kindergarten when I realized I would be a bit "socially handicapped" for the rest of my life. While I didn't have a clinical disorder or take medication for my behavior, I relied on an unorthodox way of interacting with others that proves some sort of social awkwardness. While most of you are pure NPCSD students, I transferred in the middle of 1st grade giving me the cliche experience of being "the new kid."

     But before the awe of a new school and new people, I belonged to the traditional family known as St. Josephs School of Kingston. Catholic schools aren't any different from public schools; the only contrast being the seemingly endless appraisal for Jesus. So life as a kindergartener at St. Joes was comprised of either going to church, or using crayons to fill in outlines of churches. That being said, one can only imagine how an energetic 6 year old developed a social dilemma. 

      In reality, is most likely due to the fact that I never

created a close relationship with my peers in Mrs. Bakers class, but it is much simpler to explain in a single recollection of my awkward adventures in kindergarten. I don't recall how I got the scissors in my hand, but I like to imagine that I was mesmerized by the glistening luster of the metallic blades. When I think about it this way, what happens next is due to enchantment, not (in actuality) poor judgement. I used to see the other boys tease the girls through nicknames and chasing them without the intention of capture. Though I can admit to participation in the name-calling, I never understood it. So the reason I snipped off a sizable portion of  her hair wasn't malicious or out of revenge, but a pure misunderstanding of social graces. As I watched Mrs. Baker frantically rummage through Megan's hair searching for the missing locks (which I had carefully disposed of minutes ago) I felt sad for Megan, but more confused for myself. 

     The antics would carry on throughout my years at Duzine. Whether it was the inadvertent poisoning of a fellow classmate or the competitive reading games with my peers (that secretly only I knew about), my social skills would be in question for many years to come. While I am much more accustomed to interaction now, my nostalgia for the locks of hair I gripped in my hair remains one of my most interesting early experiences.