Throughout my childhood, I was a very bad kid to say the least. Literally every day, I was either in the principal’s office in early elementary school, or I would be forced to stay after school had already let out, due to my awful behavior. At my school in kindergarten, my teacher had 3 different cards that we would each have to take home with us and show our parents that night. If you got a green card, it meant that you behaved and had a good day at school. A yellow card meaning that you had a decent day, and of course a red card meaning that the parent would be called and talked to about the bad things which you had done that day. For me, it would be considered a rare sight if you were to see me going home with only a yellow card.

There are a few stories that I can remember from elementary school, but two in particular. Our class had been selected to go pick up trash at Opequon Creek, which excited our whole student body since we got to miss a day at our treacherous school and be able to enjoy the outdoors. A couple of my buddies and I (me being the worst of the crew, of course) started alongside the creek, picking up a few handfuls of trash and being quite helpful and cooperative at first. All of the sudden, I spotted one of the kids I really didn’t like next to the creek. I nonchalantly walked over to him, extended my arms, and sent him flying into the frigid water below, a huge splash emerging from the water as he penetrated into the depths of the muddy creek. My teacher, who was an oversized blob of an old man, grabbed me and pulled me aside, as he made me apologize to the soaking wet kid, his teeth chattering as he still laid in the icy water.

On that same field trip, as I was already in a load of trouble, I decided to try something I hadn’t ever done before. Seeing what I thought had been a deserted road, I leapt across some narrow steps, as all of my classmates had their eyes glued on me, and I sprinted to the other side of the road, acting as if I were running away from my teachers. Cars screeched their horns and swerved out of the way as I made my way over to the opposite side, my teachers not gaining much amusement from my awful behavior. This was my first and last fieldtrip that I was allowed to go on to Opequon Creek that year.

Another story that I clearly can still remember was later on in that same year, towards the end of the school year when I would be graduating the 1st grade and moving on to the 2nd. There happened to be another kid that I didn’t like in my class (imagine that), who, from my view, just seemed like he wanted to try and test my patience whenever he could get the chance. In class one day, as we worked on a project as a group, I asked him nicely if I could use the tape dispenser. After he rejected my repeated attempts to use the tape, I finally decided that I couldn’t take any more from this little kid; who did he think he was? I clenched my fist and punched him in the face, with as much force as I could possibly exert as only a 1st grader. This act landed me in my usual spot for the day; the principal’s office.

As I look back at my past in early elementary school, I regret all of the foolish things I did to try and act up to my teachers and look cool in front of my friends, but at the same time it was all who I was at the time, and who I’ve become. I guess that getting out my behavioral problems has really helped me to not act up like I did in my past, and gain a larger amount of respect for any brave soul that had to deal with me, and vice versa.