Diary of a System Child: A Place for the Misplaced

Memory Ten: Leaf Piles

Most kids who grow up in the Midwest will attest to having fun in the fall by jumping into large piles of raked, fallen leaves and I was no different.…

Most kids who grow up in the Midwest will attest to having fun in the fall by jumping into large piles of raked, fallen leaves and I was no different. In my head, any number of creative scenarios existed ranging from secret agent to combat soldier. The piles made the perfect camouflage, and I became very good at becoming stealthy by lying perfectly still once covered. Sometimes the neighbor kids would join in. 

On one particular afternoon when I was engaged in a make-believe scenario in which I was sneaking up on a pretend enemy, two older neighbor kids decided to join me. Their intentions were, however, anything but innocent. 

“I heard you use the f-word on the school bus today”, said the oldest. 

“So did you and more than once”, I snapped back. 

“Well, our folks don’t care but we know yours does”. 

“So?” 

“So, unless you do whatever we say, we’re going to tell your old man” 

They had me. In a moment of anger, I did blurt out the f-word and this was in a day and age when most kids faced stern circumstances for using such language. For me, it was always guilty until proven innocent and always ending in corporal punishment without so much as a conversation. 

“What do you want?” 

“We’re going to lay in these leaves and take our things out…” 

Reflection 

I think that it is worth saying that others noticed the way that I was treated by my adoptive parents. They wouldn’t have dared done this to a kid that was actually valued. Mine obviously didn’t and it made me ripe for the picking. 

To be honest, I’ve kept this quiet until now because I knew that somehow, I would get blamed and probably judged and labeled for the rest of my life. I knew in the moment, that I did like girls, but it wouldn’t have mattered. The thought of being hit then branded was more than I could bare, so it was best to say nothing. 

My suspicion was that somehow my adoptive parents knew and just didn’t care. In their heads, my narrative was already written as a lower species. 

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  1. Jo Delgado Avatar
    Jo Delgado
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