I once had a dream I could fly. I was levitating really. Levitating through the halls of my middle school, a place I hated. Maybe one day, I will tell you about it. One day when I work myself up to it. But for now, those days are my days and mine alone. My crummy days, thanks. My super tight friends days, too, thanks for making those days tolerable.
There are many wonderful graphic novels about how crummy middle school is. Roller Girl by Victoria Jamieson is one of them. Bless you, Victoria. You got it exactly right.
This fall we were vendor at a plant sale. A young, kinda punky/alt woman was inquiring about what she could plant in front of her new home. I pointed out a few plants that would work for her garden’s conditions. Testing the waters, I mentioned one of the plant names (I wish I could remember which) was a good roller derby name.
She bit. “You do roller derby?” she asked. “No,” I said and started to tell her about Roller Girl. I had a feeling she’d get it. I got a lump in my throat and nearly started to cry. “It was a really good book,” I said. “Pretty emotional for me, I gotta say.”
Brother, who don’t I cry in front of?