One of the benefits of being a teacher is that nearly every day, I have a chance to remember something RIDICULOUS that happened to me while I was attending school.  Now that I am older, and supposedly wiser, I can look back and laugh at things that seemed positively devastating at the time I was experiencing them.

A universal truth of school is that there’s always people who aren’t cool.  Sure, I like to espouse the fact that popularity doesn’t matter at all, and the truth is IT DOESN’T once you’ve graduated from high school.  Seriously, no one gives a flying rip about if you were popular in school the minute you get that diploma.  But, during school?  That stuff MATTERS.  Big time.

In 5th grade, I sat next to one of those uncool people.  Let me be clear: I was in NO WAY cool.  In fact, 5th grade was the height of my mullet AND I started playing the clarinet in band that year, so I was basically nerd central.  But, I’m a believer in the Dork Hierarchy: some people are super dorks and are harassed, picked on and mocked regularly, and some of us are nerds, but we’re sort of left alone, away from public humiliation.  I was definitely part of the latter group.  No one really picked on me too much.  But, the girl next to me was out and out weird. She smelled funny, had this super long fluffy hair, and generally behaved in a manner that subjected her to the cruelty of ten-year-olds.

One day, we were reading silently, which was easily my favorite part of the day, mostly because it didn’t involve me attempting to do math.  This day was particularly special because my desk partner and I had the privilege of holding our class pet, Houdini the Hamster during reading.  Holding Houdini was a Very Big Deal to our class, something that undoubtedly involved Good Behavior and Waiting Our Turn and other important 5th grade values.  I held Houdini first, letting him crawl up and down my arms and wander all over my desk while I read my book.  Sadly, the scritchy-scratching of his little claws up and down my arms distracted me from my book, so I passed him off quick.  I don’t do rodents.  So, I handed him to the girl sitting next to me, who was chomping at the bit to hold this stupid hamster.  She grabbed him hard, and I watched as his little eyes seemed to pop out.  I gave her a dirty look and went back to my book.

Suddenly, I heard an odd…squeak.  I looked over just in time to see the girl next to me SQUEEZING THE HELL OUT OF THE HAMSTER.  Girl was gripping Houdini the way I might grip a stress ball.  Houdini was not well.  In fact, his eyes looked all bulged out and scary.  And?  His little hamster belly wasn’t going up and down anymore, you know, the way it does when the animal is BREATHING.

“What did you do?” I hissed.

She said nothing.  Instead?

SHE SLID HOUDINI ONTO MY DESK, raised her hand, and told the teacher, “AMY JUST KILLED HOUDINI!”

The collective gasp of horror from the class was deafening. And there I sat, mulletted, book in hand, and a clearly dead hamster on my desk.

“N-n-n-n-no, I didn’t,” I stuttered.

My teacher was horrified.  Absolutely dumbfounded.  I think of what I would have do as a teacher now if a child had just squeezed our class animal to death.  And…nothing.  I just don’t even know what I’d have said.  Not to mention the fact that I was a GOOD KID.  I had never been in trouble, or done anything weird, and certainly, I’d never be suspected of hurting a poor animal.

Thankfully, the people at my table had clearly seen the REAL KILLER of Houdini and LOUDLY exclaimed that I had NOT killed Houdini, but for just a minute, I have never, ever been so humiliated or in complete fear of social suicide.

As for the REAL KILLER, I have no idea what happened to her, but sometimes I wonder…

Were you ever embarrassed at school?  What happened?

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