Not all people were very friendly. In the play ground, I received a bright flash of light and a sore neck. I realized someone was beaning me in the back of the head with the dodge ball when I was walking around. After several times, I was determined to catch the guy that was doing it. FLASH! I immediately looked behind and couldn't find a guy around that could do it. Oh, was I hankering for a fight with that guy.

Then Jean walked by and muttered, "Stephanie's doing it." It took me a while to figure out what that meant. Stephanie was the tallest girl in the class and redhead. I then started watching her and found out that she was also beaning other friends with the ball. She was very careful in doing this but when she walked away, it was obvious that she enjoyed it. The first thing that I found out was; my friends weren't going to admit to getting hit in the back of the head with a dodge ball, thrown by a girl.

It took a couple of days and one by one, my friends would walk up to me and say they saw her hit another guy with it. We had to figure out a way to stop it and I came up with the plan. A couple of other guys wanted in. Just before recess was to end we all grabbed a jump rope and started to jump rope around the girl. As soon as the whistle blew, I yelled at the top of my lungs, "What do we do with witches that torment us! We crucify them!" With that, we rushed her and tied her to the fence and ran up to catch up with the returning class. To us, justice was served...

We were about ten minutes in class when a call came over the loudspeaker from our class administer, a woman. "Will Mike Kohlman, Richard, Charlie, (and two other people) please come to the office immediately?"

The teacher said, "I'll send them, but what is this about?"

"There is a matter of a crucifixion that took place."

Mr. Hudson had this, "What?" look on his face and mentioned to the administrator, "Stephanie never made it back from recess."

The administrator paused and with a sigh told the teacher that she is accounted for. We headed to the office and all of us were scared at what would happen and since it was my plan, I said that I would take as much responsibility for it as I could. They asked me what I had planned and they weren't happy when I said, "I don't know, but I am sticking with the truth."

In the office, Stephanie was sitting in a chair looking haggled and tear stained; the female administrator looked at us for a long time and then started to speak, " You know, you are the five best behaved people in this class and I never would have expected any one of you to be in this office because you were in trouble, especially for doing something so egregious. Because it is so bad, you all are going to be suspended, but first I need to find out how you got it in your heads to crucify someone."

I was more worried about everyone being punished and said that it was my idea and that I should be the only one suspended. This totally shocked the administrator as I was usually on the flip side of bullying; she fell back and leaned in her chair, "Mike you of all people... You came up with this? You should get double the suspension, but all of you boys are getting suspended!"

I became angry and reported, "Well, if they get suspended, then Stephanie should get suspended too!"

The administrator flew forward and with gritted teeth said, "It is not Baltimore County's policy to suspend sacrificial victims!"

"No! For hitting us in the back of the head, with a dodge ball!"

Suddenly I think a light went off in the administrator's head and she looked at Stephanie and asked, "Is this true?" Stephanie busted out in tears and started crying. Now the five boys that were in so much trouble were forgotten to be there and ended up as quiet observers.

It turned out that Stephanie felt left out and that people didn't like her, or wanted to play with her. So being put off, she went to throwing dodge balls at the guy's heads. My memory is a bit shoddy here, but I think the administrator encouraged her to simply, join in with a group and play. Us, boys were in a sense relieved that no one was punished and happy that I got the point across.

On the walk home that day, Jean let it be known that she didn't like the way that I dealt with things. I asked her if she had a better way of handling it.

"Tell someone," was her reply.

"Jean, if a boy complains a girl is bothering him they look away. If a boy complains that another boy is bothering him, they tell him to deal with it, but watch the boy that complained instead. If a girl complains that a boy is bothering him, the boy gets in trouble."

I could tell that Jean was thinking of better way, but didn't say anything until we turned off, "Mike, everything should be OK now."


That wasn't the only problem. Another one was when I hooked up with Charlie and we started talking about class members. I let him know that Jean was special to me, but I also though that Cathy was a nice girl. It turned out that she lived up the street from him and we went to see if Cathy could play. In fact she was outside throwing a soft ball with her sister and we were able to join in.

I told Cathy that I enjoyed this, liked her and if possible, maybe get  together again and play. She seemed open to this, but in class the next Monday, she basically told the entire class that I was madly in love with her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. Until the end of the year, those claims and her making fun of me would be relentless. There was only one person who didn't bring this up and gave me quiet support and comfort.

After the news of my desire for Cathy broke, it was a very quiet walk home with Jean. She was constantly looking at me, making concerned faces and seemingly wanting to talk, but not. Just the thought of Jean being upset with me, broke my heart. I knew I had to start talking.

"Jean, I don't know what you think about things, but I met up with Charlie and we went to her house and threw a soft ball around. Nothing happened and I don't know why she is saying those things."

Jean sighed and said, "Mike, its OK, I am glad that you told me that. You can walk home with me as long as you want to."

I smiled and we continued on, at the time it was for me to make my turn; I got her attention and said, "Jean, you're the only one that I want to be with and hopefully some day we will." I didn't want to tell her that I loved her so I mouthed the words. I have a bad feeling that Jean lip read me, as she blushed and shed a tear, quickly turning around and walking away.


That one was not to be outdone. Just down the street from me, there was another sixth grader, who was in a different class. She was in the sixth grade, because she failed twice and usually hung out with older girls that were once my friends. She was only on our property once and my mother didn't like that and told Linda (the girl down the street) and myself that she wasn't welcome here. This happened in third grade.

I found out from just about everyone at the school, "We found out that you played doctor with Patty." They then busted out laughing.

Being not true, I denied it and they told me to forget it, because they have the real story. "No, Patty said that she was outside and you wanted to take her into the basement, saying, 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours!':

"She agreed and then followed you in and said, 'OK, you show me yours first,' and you pulled down your pants and showed her. When you said it was her turn, she laughed and ran out!" It is nice that everyone is enjoying this at my expense.

I quickly found out that there is no way to defend against these accusations. The more ardently I explained that this didn't happen, the more people then believed that it did. If I got pissed and said nothing, they also took it as a sign that indeed, it happened. One thing's for sure; I now knew who were the people that didn't like me and boy, did they enjoy rubbing it in!

My problem was there was an element of truth to make people believe that I was like that. In third grade I somehow wondered if kissing another woman is like kissing my mother. It held such a fascination for me that at the end of class, I walked up to the teacher and politely asked if I could kiss her. She agreed and I gave it my best! To me the experiment was a success as it was different as other women get very warm and act funny.

I was happy with my experiments conclusion, but it only took only the next day to realize what a problem, I caused myself as the teacher asked, "Mike, aren't you forgetting something?" Needless to say, I came up with this brainstorm at the beginning of the year and the teachers would be touchingly delighted with this, while the students were totally amused at my folly.

The other grain added to the truth of the girl's lie was my knowledge. I thought my mother was crazy for having out in her bedroom's dresser a book titled, "Sex." This was a medical text book that I occasionally liberated. It actually started an interest in the medical world and I found other text books in the attic about nursing, obstetrics and gynecology, psychology and also surgical procedures.

I quickly found out that many of the girls, discussed amongst their selves; what is going to happen when they start developing. It was made remarkably made clear to me that a 12 year old male Gynecologist is not welcome in such discussions.

Even on a walk home, Jean told me, "Mike, when we discuss women's stuff; leave it up to us."

I replied, "Us?"

Jean gasped and then said, "Not us, us women!"

With Patty's accusations, I was once again walking home with a concerned Jean. I knew I had to address this without her speaking first, "Jean, I never played doctor with Patty. She wasn't allowed at my house and I wasn't allowed to play with her. I don't know why she is saying that we did."

Jean seemed reassured and a little more confident, but still seemed a bit distant and would look at me, but look away when I looked back. At the end of that days walk, Jean once again looked at me and when I looked back, she didn't turn her head, "Mike? Did you play doctor with anyone?"

I knew my look had already answered that question and I was at a loss for words and asked God's help, "Jean, I'm not interested in playing doctor anymore, I just want to explore this love with you."

Jean's eye's got as big as silver dollars, she turned embarrassingly red and started shaking; I tried to fix things by saying, "I didn't mean it like that." I immediately walked away with the thought, "Shit! That one sure as hell didn't turn out right; I don't blame her if she never wants anything to do with me again."

The next day's walk home, Jean would look at me and start laughing. That had my interest, but I kept quiet and wouldn't say anything to her for the fear of what would come out with my next comment. She finally chimed in, "Mike, I'm thinking of making you walk me home from the next street over!" With that she busted out laughing and skipped her way home. At my expense...