Recollections

[annapeace.livejournal.com]

I Remember the first time I got detention: I was in sixth grade and I cried. I don't even remember what it was I got detention for, but I recall making a tearful phone call to my mother, telling her she would have to pick me up an hour later that day.

At the time, I had no idea why I cried over something as stupid as detention, and neither did my friends - they all made fun of me for it. But when I thought about it later, I knew why I did. Growing up, I was rough around the edges, but I was basically a good kid. I mean, I got warning notes and time-outs in elementary school, but everyone did! But detention - detention was a serious offense to me because of (have you guessed it yet?) TV.

Television had me convinced that only deadbeats with no futures and potential gang members got detention. That "good" kids who went to detention suffered mightily. That it was a black mark on your record that would stay with you FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. (I might have also had some misconceptions about permanent records when I was in sixth grade, like believing they actually meant something.)

So the day I got detention, I truly believed it was my first step on the path to delinquency, and I dreaded having to tell my mother that her first-born was going to have to join a gang soon. It was horrible to think I could be so far gone.

Then I actually went to detention and found that it was merely an hour of sitting in a cold classroom in silence. Kind of like meditation hour. Boring, but it wasn't so bad. And the people with me, they were some really good students who were in for silly offenses, like writing English homework in math class, or something. It made me reconsider the whole "detention is the gateway to hell" idea.

I probably racked up a few more detentions during my middle school years, but as they were no longer a big deal, I don't remember them.