My story
Tomorrow is my first day of school. My body is making it pretty obvious I don’t want to
go. I'm sweating like crazy and my stomach feels like I have a bird trapped inside. This
year I'm at a new school on the other side of the country even though it feels like a world
away from where I used to live. I miss my old house desperately, the big blue ocean right
outside our small yellow home. But above all that, I’m a completely different person than
I was last year.
Mom drives me to school that next day. She’s all dressed up like it's her first day of
school. She hasn’t found a job here yet. In Maine she worked at a cute little book shop.
She loved that job, when we moved away she said it was fine and she’d find an even
better job. Turns out there aren’t a lot of cute Maine book shops in California (what a
surprise).
“Now honey” I snap back into reality “I'll be just a block away so if you need me just call
ok.” I agree even though I know I won't call.
I walk into the big brick school I will be spending the next two years in. There are
hundreds of kids chatting and slowly walking to class with their friends . The bell rings
and it's way too loud to be a junior high bell. It sounds like an aggressive fire alarm.
“God” I whisper to myself. The bell screams signaling the start of the home room.
Once I finally find my Homeroom , I quickly slip in through the door. The teacher notices
me and smiles. “Hello.” He says kindly he’s short for a grown man with dark brown hair,
and a blue button down with corduroys. This makes me feel underdressed. I look down
at my light pink hoodie and Jean shorts with my long hair tied up in a messy ponytail .
Whoops.
I quickly walk to the only open desk. “Hello, I’m Mr. green. What’s your name” he looks
down at his attendance sheet. “Maddie,” I mutter. I immediately become self-conscious.
It took me months to find the perfect name for me. I loved it. “Maddie.” My grandpa said
“it’s a beautiful name.”
In Maine my own dad didn’t support me and I didn’t care but now I care about what a
bunch of random teenagers think of me. “I mean, Ben.” I say sadly.
For some reason my dead name just slipped out of me like I’m ashamed of the new me.
After a long homeroom of playing ice breaker games, Mr. Green, my homeroom teacher
called me up to his desk. “Hello Ben, welcome to Baker. I see your name listed as
Maddie and I just wanted to check what you’d prefer to go by Maddie or Ben.” I paused.
Those words sounded so sincere, not judgmental. I wonder whether I should tell Mr.
Green the truth, that I had said my old name because I was afraid that people would
judge me and i’ll regret being the real me. he said something the that would change my
entire experience at Baker junior high: “don’t be afraid to be yourself, Ben,” he said,
looking me straight in the eye. “My name is Maddie.” He nods, smiling.
The rest of those years at baker junior high I went by my true name, and school wasn’t
as bad as I thought in California. I even made some friends and my mom got the perfect
job at the public library. I guess sometimes change is good.
Change by Andrew