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By: Midas Leung

When I was growing up, my parents decided that it would be in their best interest to speak Cantonese the whole time to their kid, that being me, his entire childhood. Luckily, it would not have any long-lasting effects. But, in the short term, the kid was socially inept and unable to communicate nor speak outside of short phrases. Being different from everyone else was not really an issue: I always managed to get the teachers and other staff’s attention around the school because I was either dumb as fuck in class or because I would wander around the school until I was caught. 

I made friends with many of the school staff. There was one specifically that treated me so well that she bought me an inflatable ball that you could hop on. Now that I think about it, she might have thought I was a little special. It could also have been because one of my elementary school teachers was caught with illicit pictures of children. I also think he got caught with two boys in his apartment when he was arrested for private lessons. 

He seemed to be normal. He had a habit of having everything sanitary. He would make every child who entered his classroom clean their hands with hand sanitizer. He was extremely friendly with me since I was dumb as a rock. I had something called the “morning” or “early class,” where I would come into school an hour early to do extra learning—but all I would do was browse the internet in the computer lab. Anyway, when I would come in I would always be hugged by him and that’s all he did to me. (At least I hope that was all he did. As far as I’m aware I don’t have any repressed memories.)

After that whole situation ended he got like 5 years probation. Yeah, he is probably out right now, assuming he’s doing the sex offender shuffle at someone’s doorstep. Sad thing was that was not even his first offense since he was caught doing the same thing to kids in Brooklyn where they even had everything on tape. Let’s just say a lot of parents were pissed that he was allowed to come to my neighborhood’s school after that.

I don’t know how I managed to get to middle school, but I did.  The first thing I did was get placed with the kids from newly immigrated families since my English skills were still on par with that of a third grader. They were nice kids. I think at least what they were trying to say to me sounded nice. But the teachers saw that I could talk properly but barely read or write. As a result they just sent me to the borderline dumb class where I saw all of my friends. 

In middle school, the wildest shit happens. An example would be the time I was suspended because I participated in a pantsing war and then some dumbfuck decided to pants a girl. Then there was the time when I was home a little early and a buddy I thought I knew was arrested for sexual harassment at the school gym. There was a clown threat, bomb threat, some kids threw some milk at a raccoon and it went apeshit in the schoolyard, and kids bullied the teachers (kids stood up in the middle of the class and started singing the pledge of allegiance). Ah, the best things about childhood. Did I learn anything? No. Was it fun? Hell yeah! 

Somehow I managed to get to high school with a 77 average. Once I got to high school it felt a little different. I don’t know why, but I actually understood the material; it made sense to me, whereas in middle school everything was just a dull memory, all I would remember would be the times after school fucking around. My Asian gene must have laid dormant until I grew to a certain age, because once I was in high school I was an academic weapon. I still fucked around, but the classes just felt so much easier.  Well, except for chemistry. God, how I hate it. 

Moving onto college, I was told that I could explore and all I can say is that those fuckers lied to me. Can’t explore shit here with these shitty little programs and the pain-in-the-ass-Inter-University-Transfers between any of the departments besides Harpur. Meh, if I fail to get my degree, I know the military will take me.

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