How Cruel Rural Communities Ostracize the People They Don’t Like

You can’t reach common ground with a cold shoulder

Image by Walter Rhein

The playground can be a hostile environment when you’re young and alone. Our school was an imposing brick building. It looked as if it had spaces for larger windows, but those had been reduced. I imagine some long-forgotten city planner said, “We can’t let the kids look outside all day, lord no! They have to focus on their studies.”

So, we got portholes instead of windows and the rooms became dark and uninviting.

Recess is the fulcrum upon which youthful life pivots. We had a play area out front, surrounded by a chain link fence. But instead of grass, we had asphalt to play on. I remember when they put it in. I remember missing the grass.

The asphalt was dark and hard with a greasy feel. It stained our shoes, and we left marks in the hallway when we went back to class.

“Check this out, I can leave marks,” said the boys who were perpetually in trouble. Later, we’d all get lectured about the long streaks in the hallway. The guilty boys seemed to think it funny that we all got blamed.

In the early years, that playground was ominous. I got bused in from the country, so I didn’t know anybody. All the other kids had already formed…