Once upon a time, seventh grade marked the beginning of what was called junior high, and I was a socially backward stranger in a new school after a move across town. It took less than five seconds on the first day to realize doom lay ahead. It appeared that everyone there was light years beyond me in sophistication and, worse than that, they were pals from elementary school who were not in the market for new friends.
Grammar school days had been a picnic—I had a little prestige, a lot of good grades, and plenty of pals. Fast forward to the dawn of 7th grade where I quickly found that I couldn’t make a friend for love nor money. And, of course, the lowlight of every day was lunch, where I really wandered in the wilderness.
With a bit of optimism in the first week, I went through the food line and scouted for girls’ tables with a vacancy or two. My success rate was abysmal as unoccupied seats were always saved, and echoes of “no” became super embarrassing. After enough daily rites of humiliation, trying to eat lunch became a very bad idea. I devised a strategy of grabbing two vanilla ice cream cups with a little wooden paddle and quickly escaping to the outside where killing 25 minutes alone was like killing 25 years.
I got used to my role of being every team’s last pick--someone eventually had to take me. Discouraging observations floated in the air sort of behind my back, and hearing I was the fat and ugly sorry kid was always a bit disheartening. While I may have been a semi-fat and awkwardly unattractive ‘tween, I didn’t consider myself all that bad. At dinner on Friday nights when there were dances at school, my parents would mildly inquire, “Do you want to go?” I would say no without editorial, and that was good enough for them.
High school was more of same. Even with a broader population, there still wasn’t a place to eat, and each day my lunch objective was simply to get through it. Everyone was having fun but I couldn’t work out how to join them. I was a have not who longed to be a have, and clueless about how to get there. Sadly, the good news about the fine art of making friends had yet to reach me.
At home things were peaceful and fine during these years with my parents their changeless hard-working, well-mannered selves. Another bright spot was the happy relationship we had with our next door neighbors, and I remember very well walking on our street with their 3 year old granddaughter and thinking about how weird it was that my best friend was a preschooler.
The church we attended was an unusual little place filled with wonderful people of all ages. Monday through Friday school difficulties were contradicted by the loving good found in this congregation on Sundays and Wednesdays. At this church, virtually everyone in every age group mingled a little or a lot with the youth. I was encouraged and reassured every time I was there as so many fine people took an interest in me.
Here we sit in 2022 where it’s commonplace to hear about teens all over who report having a similar deal to mine, and some (perhaps many) don’t fare so well in it. Which makes me reflect on how in the world I muddled through my hard days without telling a soul, and consider who and what made the difference.
After a great deal of deliberation, I have decided that those who kept me hopeful about the promise of the tomorrows to come were the influences outside the school walls—my family, our church, and our neighbors. These good people had no idea about the impact of their sustained kindness dropping on me at just the right time. I suppose the proof is that giving up never crossed my mind, and I am forever grateful to this entire group.
It was sort of a slow-moving miracle that, with some years, maturity, and countless providential situations, things eventually turned around. However, I always remember the very difficult life of a kid who couldn’t/didn’t fit in. Life rolling onwards and God in His wisdom have a way of revealing the immense good that can be found in the bad of the past. Somehow, six years of never eating lunch has ended up being a significant benefit.
