6th Grade: From City Girl to Small-Town Nobody

Welcome back to my Mommy's Piggy Tales project. This is Chapter 8 of 15, better known as 6th grade. Follow along to get to know me better!

We pulled into our new circular, pine-straw driveway late on the night of August 26, 1988. It had been a long 4 hour drive from Orlando to Perry. I remember my Dad shining the headlights all over the 1.5 acres we now called home. After we got into the house, my sister and I got to pick our bedrooms. I slept on the floor in a sleeping bag that first night, in the exact spot where I put my son's Pack n' Play now when we visit. It was a lot more land than we'd ever had and not in a subdivision. We had one elderly couple across the street and not many kids to play with that lived near us. A lady down the road was so nice and invited us to her grandson's birthday party, knowing we were new in town and didn't know many kids. He lived around the corner. We had a great time and met a few children that lived in the area. I am still friends with this boy today!(Apparently pine STRAW was the proper pronunciation in Perry. I grew up calling them pine NEEDLES, but was quickly corrected by the locals).

We got settled into our new house and I started school a couple of days later. I am glad my parents let me sit out for those 2 days just to get used to things. This move was a huge culture shock. Everyone had a southern accent and I was the outcast (or so I felt). I moved from a thriving metropolis to this town which had 2 grocery stores, a Kmart, and a few fast food joints and local restaurants. If you wanted a mall or bowling alley, you had to drive an hour. It was very hard adjusting. I got the impression quickly that if you weren't born here, raised here, and your family didn't own half of the county, then you were nobody and we don't want you here.

Starting school wasn't much easier. The very first day, I was put into Mrs. G's 6th grade class. I was dressed in my best jean skirt with matching blue shirt. We walked down the hall of the 6th grade "rock building" as it was called, to meet my new teacher. I will never forget the woman's words as long as I live. "Another new student, just what I need. I guess you'll have to go sit over there behind Jenny." I was crushed. Never had I encountered such rudeness from a teacher. (I swore that day that my future students would never have to endure that pain from me as their teacher). I remember not having many friends at all. I was the new girl and at 11 years old, everyone from this town had grown up together their entire lives and letting a new kid into the circle was unheard of. I invited most of the girls from my class to my 12th birthday party. My mom always threw great parties! NOBODY showed up. Again, another crushing blow. A few rsvp'd to let me know they couldn't make it, but some never did. They just never showed up. I was very lonely and my grades suffered for it. We switched classes once, for science, math, & social studies. Thankfully, that teacher, Mrs. W. was fantastic. She and my mother pulled me out of the funk and got my grades where they should've been.

My mom found a violin teacher for me so I could continue where I left off in Orlando. I only played through my 6th grade year. Again, things in Perry were REALLY different from what I was used to. I learned to play classical violin and this teacher was more into fiddle music. It was not my style. This picture was from my last violin concert. This wasn't the end of my musical career though. It snowed a few flurries this winter, which was cool for a Florida kid. I was standing outside the school waiting for the bell with another girl who had black hair. I remember the flurries landing in her hair and we could see them. It was the first time I'd ever seen anything like that.

I became a member of the unpopular crowd this year. Being the new kid, I could see who was well-liked and who wasn't. I tried desperately to make friends and found a few acquaintances, but no one I built a lasting friendship with. Near the end of 6th grade as 7th grade approached, we had to pick our classes for Junior High. I signed up for band! I wanted dearly to play the saxophone, but my Dad already had a clarinet and we couldn't afford to rent an instrument at this time. It was clarinet or no band. So, clarinet it was. I also tried out for 7th grade cheerleading. Each afternoon for a week in the spring, a bunch of us girls would take a bus a few blocks to the Junior High for practice. They all made the squad...I didn't.

6th grade was like one crushing blow after another, but I came out alive. I learned how not to treat people, how to make it on my own, and how to handle emotional pain. Mentally, I lived in the 5th grade with all my friends in Orlando. Physically, I was present in this new town, hoping I could somehow emerge from the shadows and find my place.