I Hate Principals' Offices

 
I was suspended for fighting, but I didn't raise a fist. It happened at recess during my seventh or eighth grade year. Everyone was outside playing in their cliques. As usual, I was alone or with the girls from the other school.

(Side note: My Catholic school merged with another Catholic school the summer before my sixth grade year. This created two sets of cliques. As I had few friends from the school I was in, I made friends with the outcasts from the other school.)

I had a scathing tongue and loved gossip. It was my defense against all of the teasing and torment the other students did to me. I must have said something that pissed him off, but I can't remember what. I do remember him coming at me, chest puffed high, hands in fists.

"What the fuck did you say about me," he demanded.

"Uh...what?"

"What did you say about me?"

"Whatever," I said.

He swung. For all the fights I had at home, I was not a fighter at school, but I was strong. I grabbed his fist and held on tight. He swung his other fist. I grabbed that too. I used my weight and twisted him around so his back was against my chest, his arms crossed in front, my hands holding his fists tight. He screamed and squirmed trying to get free.

The nuns spotted us, and we were both sent to the Principal. Each on talked to the Principal in turn. We were both suspended.

"But...I didn't even hit him. He was swinging at me, and I was defending myself. Why am I suspended?"

"To be fair," or some other fucked up excuse like that was given. It wasn't a real answer.

I still hate principals' offices to this day.

Share |