Moving to a new school in the first grade changed my life profoundly. I enjoyed my kindergarten year, and looked forward to meeting the children in my new school. That first morning the teacher quickly introduced me to the class and directed me to my seat.
             A little while later, the teacher gave us a few free minutes in class. A little girl, whose name was Mary, introduced herself to me. Mary was a thin little girl with long brown hair and glasses. She asked if we could be friends. I told her yes and I wondered why she was the only one to say hi to me.
             When our teacher dismissed us for recess that morning, Mary promptly came over to me, took me by the arm, and lead me outside. She was a chatty little girl and seemed to be thrilled to make me her new best friend. As all the kids began to spill onto the field to play, they began to scream, "COOTIES," point at Mary and me, and run away. I didn't know what cooties meant., but I didn't like the feeling of having fifty plus children staring, screaming, and pointing at us. Mary pretended to ignore the kids. I asked her what cooties meant and she told me that it meant bugs and that all the kids always called her that. I was hurt, confused, and in shock. I didn't know whether to be thankful for Mary or to try and get away from her.
             Over time I would understand why Mary had been chosen for this treatment. Mary 's father was an alcoholic, so her family received Aid For Dependent Children. We lived in a wealthy and judgmental community. Mary was just a little bit homely and it was easy to make her cry. Apparently, I had committed the unpardonable sin of befriending Mary and was forever linked to her.
             I was in that school for 7 years and miserable every day of it. Mary and I were mentally and physically abused on a daily basis. Even though we were repeatedly knocked off the play ground equipment, hit and pushed, t...