Dear Boy Who's Name I Can’t Remember,
I passed by a sign today that made me think of you. It was for
Governor’s Scholar, which I was not a part of, but the sign brought back the
memory of the time you tried to tear down my spirits—the time you tried to make
me feel unworthy and inferior. You stood in the very hallway where the poster
hangs today, in your sweater vest and khaki pants, and stared down your nose at
me like I was trash. You shoved your hands in your pocket and probably wrapped
the tips of your fingers around hundreds of dollars in cash, pocket change to
you, and made me feel like I was nothing, an insignificant speck on humanity.
I was your equal. We were both seniors, both about to graduate
and start our new lives as freshmen at our chosen colleges. You were, of course,
going to UK, pre-pharmacy if I remember correctly. I was just happy to get out
of my holler and attend Morehead State. I was going to receive the same caliber
education as you, but the fact that I would “only” be going to MSU was like a
slap across my face. You looked at me in my Wal-Mart brand jacket and slacks and
I felt like I was undeserving of even being in your presence.
With your charm and cockiness, you asked everyone where they were
from, and I meekly replied “Lewis County”. You then gave me a very arrogant
smirk and said, “Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about you then, do I?”
Dear Boy Who's Name I Can’t Remember, I hope you never forgot
that day. The day when I gave a speech at an FBLA competition against you, and
scored second place in our category and you didn’t even place. I hope you never
forget the day where you thought you were better than my dirt road raising and
lost to a girl from Lewis County. Your education at Paul Blazer, although
prestigious, didn’t give you the class that it took to be humble. That cockiness
may have been what lost you the trophy.
Dear Boy Who's Name I Can’t Remember, I wonder what you are doing
now. I wonder if you are in pharmacy school or if your charm didn’t get you far.
I have since graduated from MSU and am working on a Master’s degree. Do you
still wear sweater vests and treat people like they’re dirt? I hope not, because
you’re better than that.
Sincerely,
The girl you didn’t have to worry about because she was from Lewis County
I passed by a sign today that made me think of you. It was for
Governor’s Scholar, which I was not a part of, but the sign brought back the
memory of the time you tried to tear down my spirits—the time you tried to make
me feel unworthy and inferior. You stood in the very hallway where the poster
hangs today, in your sweater vest and khaki pants, and stared down your nose at
me like I was trash. You shoved your hands in your pocket and probably wrapped
the tips of your fingers around hundreds of dollars in cash, pocket change to
you, and made me feel like I was nothing, an insignificant speck on humanity.
I was your equal. We were both seniors, both about to graduate
and start our new lives as freshmen at our chosen colleges. You were, of course,
going to UK, pre-pharmacy if I remember correctly. I was just happy to get out
of my holler and attend Morehead State. I was going to receive the same caliber
education as you, but the fact that I would “only” be going to MSU was like a
slap across my face. You looked at me in my Wal-Mart brand jacket and slacks and
I felt like I was undeserving of even being in your presence.
With your charm and cockiness, you asked everyone where they were
from, and I meekly replied “Lewis County”. You then gave me a very arrogant
smirk and said, “Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about you then, do I?”
Dear Boy Who's Name I Can’t Remember, I hope you never forgot
that day. The day when I gave a speech at an FBLA competition against you, and
scored second place in our category and you didn’t even place. I hope you never
forget the day where you thought you were better than my dirt road raising and
lost to a girl from Lewis County. Your education at Paul Blazer, although
prestigious, didn’t give you the class that it took to be humble. That cockiness
may have been what lost you the trophy.
Dear Boy Who's Name I Can’t Remember, I wonder what you are doing
now. I wonder if you are in pharmacy school or if your charm didn’t get you far.
I have since graduated from MSU and am working on a Master’s degree. Do you
still wear sweater vests and treat people like they’re dirt? I hope not, because
you’re better than that.
Sincerely,
The girl you didn’t have to worry about because she was from Lewis County