Ponderings

My son complained again this weekend that he had no shirts to wear. Since I have bought no fewer than 12 shirts in the past three months, my patience was a bit thin. The problem is not that I have not tried to clothe him nor that he is blind to my efforts. The problem is that the acceptable range of attire in Junior high is very narrow and each style of clothing proffers a self-definition, none of which he is willing to assume. No pictures, no buttons, no collars. The exclusions are too numerous to name and certainly border on the bizarre, except that his distance from the bully of the day is at stake. So, I hold my laughter and listen again to what might possibly pass muster in the lord-of-the-flies world of Junior High.

Given the trauma in our house, I suspect that I am particularly vulnerable to the story of Larry King and Brandon McInerney. 8th grade boys are a breed unto themselves. They ping between immaturity and maturity faster than the speed of light. In an egocentric time of life, young adolescents are often blinded by their particular view of the world. Philosophically they may support diversity, but in the cafeteria, homogony is the goal. Given the realities of life for 8th grade boys, our current public school trend of warehousing them together is at best short sighted. At E.O. Green Junior High in Oxnard, California, it proved fatal.

To be sure, an 8th grade boy with make-up is not the norm. Neither is carrying a handgun to school. But both are foreseeable manifestations of the world in which we live.

Although McDonalds would lead us to believe that by the time we can chew a Happy Meal our gender identities are immutable, a quick look at science would offer another view. Genetalia comes in a myriad of mutations as do genetic schemas. Approximately one in every 100 children have ‘intersex characteristics’. Whether Larry had ‘intersex characteristics’ or simply liked girl clothes, we will never know. He was brave enough to don his own unique style, for which we ought applaud except that our public schools are not safe places for such honest exploration. As a parent of an 8th grade boy, I am certain that everyone knew that Larry’s right to self-expression was going to run headlong into the untamed savagery of adolescence.

Larry’s right to self-expression was trumped by Brandon’s gun.

Larry and Brandon had already exchanged words earlier in the week; heated words, suggestive words, charged words. Again, a prescience of what lie ahead. On February 12, 2008, Brandon stuffed a handgun in his pocket and walked into the computer lab to find Larry. The gun came from Brandon’s home. As the story unfolded we learned that guns and violence were part of the fabric of life in the McInerney home. Restraining orders, emergency rooms, and even gunshots are in the public record of Brandon’s parents, his choice of weapons was predictable.

Our local school boasts a bully-free policy, but no one even pretends to believe the posters. The lucky kids may be the unnoticed ones. The children who dare to express their unique identities run the risk of encountering trouble. Any deviation from the narrowly defined norm presents a target. Language, academic performance, even lunch boxes can draw attention. Although being hit by a rotten apple or stuck with a wad of gum is not life threatening, the remnants of our children’s humiliation underscore the harsh reality of their day-to-day struggle. Larry’s funeral forces us to acknowledge the gravity of their struggle.

Before I head to the vigil for Larry King, I pause to whisper a prayer for Brandon. Maybe I should also make a trip to Old Navy in search of non-descript shirt.