A New Home

 

The soft digital bell rang on the loudspeaker. It was 11:39, the end of my social studies class. The classroom doorway was crowded. Everyone was in a rush to get down to the cafeteria. It was recess, the only time you looked forward to in the school day besides the end of it. With a little paper lunch tray in hand, I looked at the tired and sad-faced lunch lady. I took one look at what was lunch for that day, and politely refused. I grabbed a carton of chocolate milk on my way out into the cafeteria. As I looked around, I started to feel nervous. I told myself I wasn’t gonna sit alone today. I approached the lunch table with all the sporty kids. But something wasn’t right, and I could feel my gut telling me that this wasn’t a good idea. I could feel my forehead start to get sweaty, and my heartbeat racing as I walked over. “Hey, uh… could I sit here?”

In my early childhood, I moved around a lot. There wasn’t really a place I could call home. I lived outside of the US for a big portion of my life. Despite the obstacles that I faced, I made lots of friends, but none of them stuck with me. I took long pauses between attending public school and being taught at home. When I was 11, I finally moved back to upstate New York. I’ve lived in a small town in Dutchess County ever since. The middle and high school I attended were pretty small. My class of 70 kids or so had been together since kindergarten, so all of them knew each other pretty well.

Being the new kid in 6th grade, I honestly felt excited. Though I was grateful to have had the chance to move around and experience life in other places, I felt like I should’ve been here the whole time. I just wasn’t seeing why yet. Now, it felt like such a challenge to integrate myself into this school. Making friends was so much harder than I had remembered. All of a sudden, I felt intimidated by some of the guys. They were taller, bigger, and meaner than I was. I felt like Greg Heffley.

I tried my best to make friends, but it didn’t really change how alone I felt. Everyone already had a group of friends that they could turn to. When it was time for recess, they’d all have their own lunch tables to sit at and talk with each other. At gym class, everyone would pair up with their buddy. I was usually left alone without a partner. I ended up making a couple of school friends, but they never really filled the void that I had. When it came to recess or hanging out outside of school, they weren’t available. Young and stupid me started to blame my parents for homeschooling me a lot. I thought that being partially isolated for long periods of time made me unsociable.

Truth be told, I didn’t feel very comfortable where I was. I didn’t like feeling alone, and I wanted to be part of a friend group so badly. I was so desperate that I tried to force myself into a group that I knew pretty well wasn’t really for me, just because I didn’t wanna feel lonely. I sat with them for a couple of weeks. They were into comic books, anime, and art. All things I had no connection to. 

Although I wasn’t succeeding in making myself feel at home, I kept my head up. This was all new territory to me. When I was younger, years went by where I wasn’t around anyone my age. When I made friends, I’d just lose them shortly. My first year back in New York was a journey. A journey to make myself feel at home. I put myself out there as best as I could, even when I thought no one was watching. I also made myself play soccer that fall, even though I wasn’t athletic by any means. I never stopped to congratulate myself back then, but when I look back nowadays, I’m proud of myself.

Feeling nervous, yet eager, I sat down on the dinky, uncomfortable chair. I finally let my anxiety go, even though my gut was telling me not to. To my surprise, the jocks were welcoming. We had a conversation about soccer and girls. I tried to impress them by pretending that I was just as athletic as they were. I was an impostor. After a couple of exchanges, I started to feel awkward. I knew I didn’t feel too passionate about what they were talking about, so I just got quiet, as I didn’t have anything to add. This felt even worse than the last time I tried to force myself into a friend group. I started feeling so bored. I hooked my arm around the crappy cafeteria chair, and turned my head. I was looking right at my friend group for the rest of middle school. I had no idea.

They were all cracking jokes, making each other laugh, and having a good time. I lit up when I saw them, so I walked over and asked to sit there without feeling nervous. We clicked. It wasn’t too long before I was making jokes with them, so they almost felt like they’d been my friends for a while. Suddenly, I didn’t feel the pressure of being a new kid anymore. My goal of having a friend group was being fulfilled, without even realizing it. I was finally starting to feel like I was at home. 

While I’m not friends with many of those people anymore, I really appreciate the memories I made with them. It takes me back to an innocent time, where I was still learning so much about myself. I’m very glad that I had a positive experience in middle school in contrast to high school.