My first ‘real’ suspension happened in Kindergarten, at Kerrisdale School in Vancouver in 1976. I write ‘real’ because this was a 5 day suspension whereas the ones before in pre-school at Greater Victoria Nursery School, were only an afternoon, here and there.
Big Red had just launched in Canada; the cinnamon flavoured chewing gum wrapped in foil, both spicy and sweet that really got the saliva glands going, not as much as Juicy Fruit, but a close second.
Everyday after Kindergarten that Fall, I was followed home by a boy in my class, CC, who chanted ‘Big Red’ for 4 blocks until he turned the corner to go to his house. I complained to my parents, who suggested I ask him to stop and failing that to just ignore him. Easier said than done, Susan and Bill, I was 5, insecure about the hair colour that you blessed me with and had a jackass following me home and chanting. Words would not suffice.
Our Kindergarten teacher left us alone in the classroom one afternoon, not a great life or career choice on her part, and CC started chanting ‘Big Red’. Yes, I told him to stop, yes I attempted to walk way but…
I may or may not have thrown the first, second, third and fourth punch as well as a well placed kick, all I know is that CC didn't get up off the floor until the teacher came back into the classroom.
Nowadays, Social Services would be called, I would be expelled and probably charged with assault, however, nothing was scarier than interrupting Susan in her aerobics class at the Arbutus Club and being called to the Principal's office.
It was determined that I needed a few days, 5 to be exact, to ‘cool off’. Susan and her perfectly manicured nails found the soft spot under my arm between my armpit and elbow and escorted me to the backseat of the station wagon.
I was asked “why did you have to react?”, “why didn’t you use your words?”.
In response, in the backseat, where Susan couldn't reach me, I started chanting ‘Big Red’, all 7 blocks home. Susan didn't use her words either, in fact, I was spanked, sent to my room and told, “wait until your Father gets home”.
I could turn on the waterworks on command so when I heard Susan telling Bill about my misdemeanour, I started sobbing, face bright red (no pun intended), pillowcase drenched in snot and tears, peering under my arm to see when my Daddy got to my doorway. Before he could speak, I stuttered (always an excellent way to express remorse) that I was sorry and I would never beat up CC again. Honestly, I think Bill was just relieved that I didn't express my remorse by holding my breath and passing out, another skill of mine.
At the end of the day, what I had done was wrong, however, I became a bit of legend and I never heard CC chant again.
