No advocate of vandalism, I should come clean. As a second grader, I contributed a graffiti statement, leaving my tag on a bathroom stall. I never told anyone, possibly because of my dichotomy of emotions: I was proud of what I wrote, but ashamed of how I did it.
Flashback to 1969, a fierce era in our country: fighting in Vietnam, activating civil rights and advancing the women’s movement, to name a few. While only a seven-year-old at the time, I was aware, thanks to Walter Cronkite, of current events and social climate. A question that I now often ask myself surfaced in my childhood head: What can I do to make things better?
At Holly Hill Elementary, class bathroom breaks were taken after recess and lunch. First and second grade boys shared a restroom with the more advanced fourth graders, whose classrooms were further down the school’s hall. Perhaps because I was pee-shy, I used the stall instead of joining most of the others at the long latrine positioned barely two feet from the floor. During one visit to the enclosed compartment, I noticed alarming four-letter words, obviously vocabulary of the older boys, etched on the green metal divider wall. I’d heard the salty words before from grown-ups and junior high kids, but had never seen them displayed in such a public manner.
As a child, I didn’t like what I read, but, was also intrigued. Was this form of communication acceptable at school? I knew it wasn’t, but that didn’t stop me from scrawling my own mark. I took the latch from my belt buckle and quickly added my own four-letter word.
The word was LOVE.
Love and light,
Tony
No better 4 letter word!! And just so you know, the girls did the same thing in their stalls, too. Guess they were trying to be “cool”!
Hey honey! I agree with you 100 percent! Love you!
The beautiful Tony strikes again.
Awww. You’re sweet! It’s a true story, I promise. And, as far as beautiful. I had the most beautiful 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. DeWitt, ever!
That’s awesome! I have lots of memories of the ‘Holly Hill Era’. However, one I will never EVER forget was when my mother tried to explain to me how the ‘daddy ‘of one of my down -the -street playmates, (a helicopter pilot ) (and fellow Holly Hill classmate), had been killed in that war. And, since my own daddy was a helicopter pilot, I remember being scared and clingy. I never thought that something like that could ever happen. 🙁
Thanks for sharing. If there had been such a thing as coed bathrooms back in the day… I’da been right there withya. 🙂
Honey…wow, that had to have been a challenge for your mother. She undoubtedly knew (or was guide to know) what to say to her children during this period. xoxo
What a wonderful story … It put a big smile on my face
Awww. I’m glad it made you smile! Love you!
That’s exactly how I remember you Tony, can’t imagine you etching anything but “LOVE”.
Hey honey! You just made my day! Big hug to you!
LOVE WINS!!!!
Yes! And, always will!! xoxo