Last Summer

by Holly Chamberlin

  And I’m also determined to talk honestly to Mom and Dad about not wanting to keep up with piano lessons. Wish me luck.

  Oh, and another thing I’m going to talk to Dr. Lowe about is what to say when people tell me I’m so pretty or beautiful, or when they comment on my hair or my weight. I don’t ever want to be rude but I do want to be able to let a person know when they’re doing or saying something that makes me uncomfortable. Wish me luck on that, too!

  One last thing. There’s a new guy in our class. He transferred from some school in New Hampshire. He seems kind of shy. Plus, he has really bad acne, the kind that you can’t really cover up. Last year I would have been nice to him in a kind of distant way because he was new and didn’t know anybody, but now I know that he might need some real friends. So I introduced myself today and he’s actually less shy when you talk to him. If I see even the slightest bit of someone bullying him—his name is Josh—I’m going straight to the teacher and the principal and Mom and Dad. Meg and Stella swear they’ll do the same thing. No more standing by while someone gets hurt. Ever. One thing I really found out this past year is that it’s not enough just to think good thoughts about people. You have to do good things for people. You just have to.

  Oh, wait! One more other last thing, and it’s important! That boy, Kenny Ray, the one who tried to kill himself, is doing okay. I mean, he’s not 100 percent at all, but Mrs. Giroux found out through Mrs. Kneeland that he’s in stable condition. That’s a big relief. Mom’s still taking food over to the Rays’ house once a week. I’ve been helping her to make casseroles and stews, dishes that are easy to reheat and that fill you up. Lots of people are taking turns helping them out in whatever way they can, like one of the neighbors is taking care of mowing the lawn. Small stuff, but it’s important the Ray family know people are there for them.

  Oh, one more other last, last thing! I decided I don’t want to wear my hair super long again like it was last year. It’s grown out a bit past my shoulders now, and once it gets a little longer I’m keeping it there. No more Rapunzel. Meg showed me some articles from one of her fashion magazines about how to wear hair that length, and I’m kind o f excited to try some styles. I guess I partly got the idea from Stella—about being a new me. Not that a haircut is going to change the important stuff, but like Stella says, for her it was a symbol of bigger change, change that took place inside.

  Oops, gotta go. Mom’s calling that dinner is ready. She made pasta with carbonara sauce, which is so awesome and I am so starved!

  Your friend,

  Rosie

  Epilogue

  Journal Entry for June 12, 2013

  Sorry I haven’t written in ages! But I’ve been so busy with school and my volunteer work. Even without piano taking up so much of my day now, I don’t seem to have time to write in this journal as often as I’d like to!

  So, school just ended and I’m excited about the summer finally being here, though I know I’ll miss Mr. Arcidiacono’s English class. He’s a great teacher and really opened my eyes to a lot of interesting things about writing. Hopefully, Ms. Bowles, next year’s English teacher, will be just as good.

  I can’t believe how much in my life has changed since last summer. This year has been an incredible learning period for me. And it’s also been kind of fun, though a lot of hard work. Mostly the hard work involved starting up our anti-bullying group.

  Right from the start we realized that we had to be a school-sanctioned “club,” otherwise we wouldn’t be allowed to meet on school property and post flyers and all. Something about insurance. But we got permission and funding to start our group, largely thanks to Meg, who is good at that sort of bureaucratic stuff. (She should probably be a lawyer. I had no idea how to go about starting an official group or organization.) One of the new guidance counselors volunteered to be our moderator. His name is Steve McFarland, and he’s only in his twenties, so his memory of being our age is still pretty sharp. He’s not married yet (though we’re kind of wondering if he’s seeing someone; Stella’s mother saw him at the movies with a pretty brunette one time) and he has an adorable pug he brings with him everywhere (except to school, wah, but he’s got pictures of Daisy on his desk) and he dresses really nicely. (That’s according to Meg and to Mom, who, of course, has met him.) Everybody likes him, students and teachers and parents, which seriously helps when it comes to getting people to become members of the group or come to our events.

  So far we’ve spent a lot of time reading up on what other, already successful organizations across the country as well as here in Maine have done and what they teach. Education, Steve reminds us, is key. We’ve been trying to absorb the basics, the stuff everyone seems to agree on, like the fact that bullying isn’t a two-way conflict that can be “worked out.” It’s a one-way act of aggression. And pretty much every “peer victimization expert” agrees on the steps to take to stop bullying, so we’ll be teaching those, too.

  In the fall we’ll probably try to arrange for me (and for anyone else in the group who has been bullied) to talk to younger kids about what happened to me last year and about how I made it through and am stronger now. It won’t be easy, but I think I’ll be able to do it with some encouragement from Steve and Mom and Dad and Meg and Stella. Meg thinks that her parish might be interested in having me in to talk to some of the kids who attend church there, and then there’s the middle school where Meg and I used to go. We’re also arranging to have some speakers come to the high school, adults who are willing to share their own experiences of either being a bully or being a victim. It’s been shown in studies that lots of kids who bully don’t grow up to lead successful ives, so it will be really interesting to hear from some former bullies who did manage to make a big change in themselves for the better.

  This goes without saying, but Mackenzie, Courtney, and Jill haven’t been to any of the meetings and I doubt they ever will, though we hope to reach other kids who might be in a home situation that might lead them to bullying behavior. Assuming that Mackenzie’s and Courtney’s and Jill’s home situations really did lead them to act the way they do. I guess I’ll never know for certain. Maybe in the end all they really wanted—Mackenzie at least—was to be popular. Though I don’t know how popular they ever got to be. I’m pretty sure that if any of them ran for class president or even president of a school club, they wouldn’t be elected.

  This seems silly, but it was harder than I thought it would be to come up with a catchy but meaningful name. Meg suggested Beat Bullying, but then Charles pointed out that the word “beat” actually has some negative connotations (as in, bullies beating up people) so we decided against that suggestion. Stella came up with You Are Not Alone, which I thought was pretty good except that Meg reminded us that there already was an advocacy group for the homeless by that name a few towns away and that if we used the same name people might be confused. A girl in my history class came up to me and said she’d heard we were starting an anti-bullying group and suggested we name it Sanctuary. I thought that was a really good idea, but then Mr. McFarland pointed out that the word “sanctuary” might scare off some kids because of its association for a lot of people with religion. I guess he was right, but I was disappointed.

  In the end Charles Lin came up with Respekt Yourself and we all agreed that it was just right. (Don’t get me started about the “k” in “respekt.” Meg thought it would be cool to misspell the word. So did Stella. Huh? But Charles and I were overruled.) What we hope to teach kids is that they should have enough respect for themselves not to allow someone to bully them AND that they should have enough respect for themselves not to become someone who causes another person pain. You’ve only got one life, and it would be horrible to look back on it and remember being mean and hurtful to another person, or to remember not having tried to stop someone else from being mean and hurtful.

  In the very beginning there was only me, Meg, Stella, and Charles, but as word got out (we posted flyers at school and held brainstormi
ng meetings, etc.), more and more people joined in, and now Respekt Yourself has about thirty members. We’re hoping that by the end of the next school year we have at least double that many.

  Even though our group is based at school, we’re going to be incredibly busy this summer, partly thanks to Mr. McFarland (some kids call him Steve, but I’m still working up the nerve—I mean, I don’t even call Mrs. Giroux by her first name, and I’ve known her all my life!) who has offered to give up parts of his vacation to us. He says he doesn’t have the money to go anywhere and he’ll already be working a part-time construction job because teachers make so little money he can’t afford to take months off without a salary, so why not continue to work with an out-of-school version of Respekt Yourself? He said—he’s kind of silly, but in a good way—that he wouldn’t respect himself if he didn’t help out. Ha ha. Maybe we’ll get to meet that brunette he went to the movies with. I’m kind of curious.

  Anyway, we’re doing a walkathon in August, so that has to be organized (permissions, advertising, etc.), and Stella is working on getting one of the local papers to do an article about us. She’s even going to approach our local TV news station about maybe doing a piece on bullying and the kids who are working to end it. If it aired in the fall, right after school starts again, the story might make an impact. (Look what a big impact Kenny Ray’s story had on us!) Charles’s dad knows someone who can get us a good discount on T-shirts with our name and logo (that’s still in development; Mom is helping us design it) and we’re hoping to maybe set up a booth at the Fourth of July fair where we can sell them. The profit will go back into Respekt Yourself so that next year we can be more effective than we were this year. Honestly, it’s hard to know if we’ve been effective at all. No one has heard of any new instances of bullying at our school, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t going on. I know all about the shame and secrecy that can be involved. Anyway, we just keep working and hoping that we’re making a difference. There are already so many excellent organizations in place—like GLSEN, for one, which stands for Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network, which has a chapter in southern Maine—but I think that maybe we have something unique to offer kids who are suffering. I hope so. I don’t think it can hurt to try.

  The best news is that the boy who got Meg and Stella and me into this whole volunteer thing, Kenny Ray, is doing really well and he’s agreed to work with us in whatever way he can. We met him at his house a few weeks ago and talked for ages. (He’s still not back in his regular school. He has a tutor and spends a lot of time in rehab.) We finally met his parents, too, and they’re super nice. Meg’s mom told us that they stopped going to church after Kenny tried to kill himself because they just can’t be part of the Church’s anti-gay stance, especially with their own son being gay. But Mrs. Giroux also told us that even though they don’t go to church anymore, Father William goes to their house and counsels them as best he can. That seems pretty nice of him. He didn’t just give up on the Ray family when maybe they need him most.

  I wonder why Meg’s mom stays a Catholic, but I don’t feel I have the right to ask her. I mean, I know she has no problem with people being gay, and I’ve heard her complain about the Church not allowing women to be priests. But it’s like the title of that great book we had to read back in middle school, A SEPARATE PEACE. People have to make their own separate peace about difficult things. And you can’t judge them about their decisions. Well, you can judge them, but you shouldn’t.

  Like with me. I’ve been thinking a lot about investigating a church to join, maybe the Episcopal one. I don’t know, but maybe I want to believe in something more important than just ghosts and spirits. Maybe I need to believe. I really don’t know what will come of this—I guess I could call it a quest!—but I know there’s a chance my parents won’t really like the path I’ve chosen to take. But no matter what they think or say to me, I have to be true to my own feelings and my own conscience.

  Anyway, back in the winter we got Kristin and some of her friends from the boys’ and girls’ basketball and volleyball teams involved in Respekt Yourself. One thing’s for sure, they know how to work together, and especially Kristin and her best friend Allison have been fantastic with organization. (They’re handling a lot of the stuff for the walkathon.) All these studies show that kids who are seriously involved in sports are less likely to bully and be bullied, so it’s a no-brainer that we should try to get young kids interested in sports or other serious hobbies before they reach the age when bullying usually starts.

  Well, it’s too late for me to be into sports (like I wouldn’t be terrible!) but I have been to a bunch of basketball games this year and they’re pretty fun. I’m still not really sure what’s going on, but I know when someone makes a basket (duh!) and it’s fun to cheer on people you know, like Kristin and Allison. Meg’s come with me to most of the games, and wow, you should hear her scream when our team wins!

  I had my last session with Dr. Lowe yesterday afternoon. I can’t believe I had been seeing her for an entire year. I was a little bit sad that I wouldn’t be seeing her again, but she assured me that if I ever feel like I need a little reminder about things we discussed in the last year then I could just call her and make an appointment. I hope I don’t need to do that, but it’s good to know she’s there for me.

  Like, if another bit of leftover anger or depression hits me out of the blue, like it did about two months ago. Seriously, I had been working so hard for so long with Dr. Lowe that I was convinced I had dealt with every single negative emotion or thought associated with the bullying. But, like I said, out of the blue (or, my unconscious!), I felt absolutely furious with my mother for having her head in the sand about so much stuff, especially the stuff regarding me and my health. It was like being hit by an avalanche of bad feeling, and I’m so glad I had Dr. Lowe to help me deal with it. Mom and I did have some big fights, but in the end I think we really got the air cleared on some issues. My mom, I came to realize, is a very fearful person, and in her desire to protect me from the big bad world, she instilled a lot of that fear in me. Fear in its proper place can save your life, but when it goes nuts, it can kill you as surely as a murderer.

  Anyway, as a sort of graduation exercise (I talked to Dr. Lowe about it first), I told Meg and Stella about the cutting. They were surprised and I think kind of horrified, too. It really is a horrifying thing and I was a teeny bit embarrassed admitting my weakness, but after I told them, I felt strong, like I had owned up to my humanness and that I could now be imperfect like everyone else. So, in the end, it was the right thing for me to do. (The scars are almost entirely gone now, by the way. Oh, and Meg was like, “So that’s why you wore a long-sleeved blouse to the beach last summer! I thought it was a fashion statement!” Sometimes she is so goofy. Since when have I been into fashion?)

  Kind of on a related note, I heard a rumor—so who knows if it’s true!—that Courtney Parker isn’t coming back to school in the fall. She would have been a senior. I don’t know if she decided to drop out or what, though Meg overheard some woman in Hannaford saying to another woman that Courtney is in some sort of trouble with the police. All I know for sure is that over the past school year, more and more I saw Mackenzie without Courtney, and they used to be like conjoined twins. Jill still follows Mackenzie around, but not as much as she used to, so maybe something happened in that group to break them up. Maybe that’s a good thing for all of them.

  And by the way, word is that Mackenzie got dumped by this community college guy she was seeing. I guess being smart and exotic-looking is no guarantee that someone will love you. I don’t wish bad things for her. I just hope she learns some lessons.

  Well, here’s way more important news! Mom and Dad have finally agreed to our getting a dog! We’re going to the shelter in South Portland on Saturday. I am beyond excited and also a little bit nervous because I just know I’m going to have an awful time choosing just one little guy to bring home. I have a few names in mind but I’m going t
o wait until I pick a particular dog before finally deciding. Emily, after Emily Dickinson, my favorite poet, isn’t going to work for a boy dog! And none of those silly names like Woofy or Stinky. Maybe Horatio if I pick a boy, from the character in HAMLET.

  Petey is also excited. He wants a dog, too, but Mrs. Giroux says she’s allergic, so I told Petey he can help me with my dog. Petey looks so different almost every time I see him, which is a lot. He’s losing his baby fat and looking more like his father, who really wasn’t a bad-looking guy when he was younger. I’ve seen pictures in some of Mom’s old albums. (There are no pictures of Mr. Giroux in Meg’s house, at least, none that I’ve ever seen. I wonder if Mrs. Giroux kept her wedding pictures? I’ll probably never know.) I wonder if Meg and Mrs. Giroux see the resemblance between Mr. Giroux and Petey. I wonder how they feel about it.

  Speaking of names, dog and human, I’m thinking that maybe I don’t want to be called Rosie anymore, except by my parents. I think Rosemary is more sophisticated. Maybe at the start of next school year I’ll ask people to call me Rosemary. Meg says there’s no way she’ll remember to do that, not after all those years of calling me Rosie! BTW, she got these cool new frames and has finally stopped complaining about wearing glasses! They’re sort of a reddish-pink and look really good on her. I think she picked that color because it goes really well with the ruby she had wrapped in silver wire. She wears that necklace pretty much every day, kind of like how I wear my rose quartz. I guess the stones are kind of like a talisman or a good luck charm. At least, that’s how I see it. Meg says she doesn’t believe in all that “psychic stuff.” She is pretty rational. Not like me sometimes!

  And talking about Meg, this is sad. About a month ago her father got arrested for driving drunk, but what was even worse was that it turns out his license had been suspended, so he was guilty of two crimes. Meg’s mother was furious and Meg has vowed never to speak to her father again. I think that might be a bit harsh and I told her that, but she says she’s not going to change her mind and that her father is a waste of breath. Wow. That anger isn’t healthy, but it’s her life and not mine, so I’ll just be there for her when she wants to talk. Between us, Mom thinks that all along Mrs. Giroux shouldn’t have been criticizing Mr. Giroux in front of Meg, even if he did deserve it. She thinks that Meg always hearing how lousy her father is probably hurt her in some way. I think she’s probably right. Anyway, Mrs. Giroux doesn’t want Petey spending time with his father without a chaperone, but I don’t know if she can enforce that legally. I guess she’ll be asking a lawyer for help. I think my dad knows someone she can talk to. If Mr. Giroux’s driver’s license gets taken away for good I don’t know how he’s going to get by. But that’s not my concern, so I’m not going to worry about it.