Rumours

I wasn't born shy. I was made so by people who didn't understand me.

"Do you want to be my friend?" I would ask any kid I met. The answer would always be yes, until one day it wasn't. That was the time when a snotty girl, who knows for what reason, instead of answering as I was expecting, decided to stick her tongue out at me. I was shocked. I didn't know how to react. I looked at her, questioning. She shrugged and walked away, back to her parents, who were talking animatedly to mine. I kept staring at her. "How could she not want to be my friend?!" I didn't understand.

My parents later explained that I may encounter people that do not like me. That it is normal, said my dad. We cannot possibly like everyone we meet, said my mum. That was news to me. Up to that point, I had always liked every person I had met. I thought that was how the world worked. The thought that some people may not like me was really hard for me to comprehend. How would I know when somebody liked me and when they did not?

"You'll know" my dad said.

 "You will get a special feeling… some kind of signal... something like that" my mum added, not helping much.

From that point on, I stopped asking other kids to be my friends; what if they were part of the group of people that didn't like me? Better to be safe than sorry. So, I stopped actively looking for friends. Instead, I only talked to people who talked to me, those who showed that they clearly liked me. This was difficult for me. I would look at other kids and I would really like to join in, but I could not. Some internal force would stop me. And so my life continued. I am now in my 40s and I still feel the same way. Even though I now understand how things work, and I think I can tell when people like me or not, I still struggle to initiate conversations. I feel odd. I feel unequipped for the task.

The day I went to see the Headmaster at my kids new school, I wanted to let him know that I did not agree with the way they were handling things. I wanted him to speak to the Maths teacher, as she had been physical and had bullied kids in the class. The night before, I had told my husband every single point I would raise, every detail I would present to the headmaster. And so the day came…

The Headmaster was a big, imposing, man with a deep voice that you could hear from a long distance. On that day, he seemed busy and annoyed. He had just put the phone down as I walked in his office (I had heard him shouting quite loudly seconds before). He shook my hand and gestured for me to sit down. As I was doing that, he quickly checked his computer for emails, noisily huffing and puffing.

"I'm sorry. It will only take a minute".

"That's ok" I said as I scanned the room for objects to look at while waiting. There was a photo of him with the literature teacher and right next to that, another one with him and Miss Thomas. They were both smiling.

"I was told you had a complaint in relation to Miss Thomas, is that right?" He asked after a few minutes, opening a big blue notepad and grabbing a pen.

"Yes… yes… I wanted to talk to you about her… about some concerns we have..."

"What kind of concerns? Nothing serious I hope?"

Serious it was. But instead I said "Nothing terrible. I just wanted to mention something… a little thing that the kids have been talking about…"

"Please tell me."

"It's just that… APPARENTLY… she has been a bit too tough on the kids…"

"What do you mean? Do you have complaints about her behaviour towards the kids?"

"I'm sure she's behaving properly… it's just the kids… they like to talk..."

"Yes, the kids do like to talk. But is that what you wanted to tell me?"

"No. Well, yes… kind of… the kids have been talking about her… about her behaviour… I am sure it's nothing. But I wanted you to know…"

He stared at me for a few seconds. I got a vibe; maybe he didn't like me.

"So, what is it? What is going on exactly?"

He definitely doesn't like me, I thought.

"Nothing really. I just wanted you to know… about… about these rumours"

"We don't deal with rumours here. Do you have anything specific you want to tell me? Besides rumours?"

I froze. I didn't have hard evidence really, just what my daughter had told me.

"No. not really. You are right… it's probably nothing."

He closed the notebook, as blank as it was at the start of our meeting.

"Thank you. I will keep your comments in mind. Thank you for troubling yourself with this…"

He stood up and walked me out of his office

.

As soon as I was out my phone rang. It was my husband. He wanted to know how the meeting had gone.

"So? What did he say?"

"He said he'll keep my comments in mind…"

"Keep your comments in mind? That woman should be in jail… did you tell him that we would report the school if they didn't act on it?"

"Not quite… but I am sure he will do something about it…"

As I walked back home, I made a mental list of all the things I would tell the headmaster next time I saw him; I would DEFINITELY tell him everything; I would ask my daughter to write down all the details. I would not waste any time.

I never had another chance to speak to him about it. A kid was badly hurt the following day. Nobody knew what happened to the maths teacher, she had vanished by the time the police arrived.