Tragedy of the Spirit -Part 14- ..... School Is In .

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I am sure that everyone must remember their own high school days, especially the first one. As for me, I know I will and let me tell you, it was a nice one. There I was, a survivor of the streets, now going back to school. My time as a prostitute had changed me from a weak willed wanna be girl into a strong, assertive, young woman. But, even though I was stronger, I still needed the unconditional love and support of Jenn. Without her, I would never have made it.

Although I had so many emotions running through my head, fear, being one of them. I also had a lot of anxiety and stress upon which I was not expecting to deal with. You see, I had only an eighth grade education, and I was fifteen years old. I had grown up on the streets as a trannie prostitute. I was used to walking the streets of the concrete jungle, wearing sexy clothes to entice my clients into buying my services.

Unfortunately, much what I learned on the streets could not help me, here. I was street wise, yet book poor. The knowledge that I had couldn't be put into a lesson format. No, you had to actually LIVE the lessons that the streets taught. But I could take the strength that I gained on the streets and use it to learn, THAT I could, and would do.

*****

For me, this was like nothing that I had even anticipated, let alone predicted how my first day would be, let alone how my first week would turn out. Yes, I made many goofs then, as I said something that was not expected. I find it very amusing now as I look back at that all important week and the days that followed. At the time, I was so embarrassed that I wanted to die. But, at least they thought that I was a girl, not a boy. The only way that they would know is if I took gym and had to wear a gym outfit.

Let me begin by saying that the weeks leading up to that week were interesting, Jenn and I spoke often as well as going shopping for notebooks, pens, etc. I was like a kid in a candy store, ready to devour everything in sight, and suffer a tummy ache. Well I also have to say that clothes were the top of the list. You see, we were all given dress code guidelines at this public high school. Well, I was the unsure one as to what would be proper and what was not, I bought mini skirts and tank tops as well as heels.

Being brought up on the street were heels and boots were standard, there was no chance I knew what sneakers were let alone anything else they had on that silly list, and I still have that list, too. I kept it to remind me of the big difference between the streets and high school. The code stated, jeans or skirts, tops with adequate sleeves, sneakers or appropriate footwear, minimal makeup for girls, hair adequately styled etc. In my mind it was a patheticattempt to make us conform to standards. Well, as for me, I grew up street wise, so conforming was not on the priority list of topics.

*****

The Monday prior to the Labor Day weekend proved to be interesting. I had the usual orientation and meet and greet etc. I was assigned my locker and given my combination. I wore a very tight skirt which was about 3 inches below my private area. I wore modest makeup and hair was in a long braid. I can tell you I garnered a lot of looks, some sneers and a lot of comments. You can guess what the comments were, as they pertained to what I was, not what I am trying to be, now, a high school student.

I met the principal that morning of orientation, his name was Mr. Badham. He was a very tall and handsome man, well over 6 feet 4, solid build, short graying black hair and blue eyes. He was hot. My English and home room teacher, Mr. Heinrichs was short of a man, about 5 feet 7 and grey hair and brown eyes. I later found out he was one of the original teachers at the school when it opened in the late 1930's, he was old. My other teachers were introduced to me, as well, and were predominantly female except the previous men that I mentioned. THAT made me wonder why there were more lady teachers than thee were men. Were women smarter than men?

We were lead to gather and sign out of class texts and other general items and sign for our lockers and a agreements etc to the lockers etc as far as defacing them was concerned. That was an immediate suspension if we damaged or defaced the school property. I am pretty sure that you went through something very similar to what I did, but for me, this was an alien world. On the streets, I had seen gangs of boys and girls use spray paint to deface property, usually some apartment building, or warehouse. I never did as I was not there for that.

My home room was up on the second floor. My locker fortunately or unfortunately however one looks at it was 3 in from the home room door, yuck! I had not much choice as to seating as I found out, so I chose the middle seat front row. I was surrounded by the guys on my right and behind me the girls were on my left. I could tell this was going to be a very interesting and challenging first year, if I could complete it, that is. My main objective was to survive the first day then the week. OH JOY!

When my classes began, let me tell you what I wore, I had on a short grey mini and black cross top that showed my belly button and my hair was braided and light makeup. My heels were not modest either, 3 inch black spike heels. Basically, what I would have worn to turn tricks on the streets. I walked with authority into the school that morning. I laugh now and have some good type memories about that day when I strutted into the school. Even though I was a freshman, I was totally in charge of my situation.

I had a look of 'bitch', and 'you better not mess with me look'. I think all movement and noise ceased at 8:A.M. that morning when I opened the doors from the parking lot. All eyes shifted to me. I ignored everyone and headed up the stairs to my locker. What a trip! You see, I was so scared and nervous that my stomach was flipping about like a tidal wave. I know I never showed it on the outside, but inside, I was scared shitless.

My first class went well, and then it was home room, then English, so I never had to switch classes. I felt somewhat relieved at that. I doubt that I could have moved to another class without having an anxiety attack. You see, I was constantly getting ogled by the guys and they were not subtle looks either, they were full of lust. I had seen those looks for a long time working the streets, and never bothered me in the least. I thought it was flattering. I have to say I looked damn hot.

Yes, I was arrogant and self assured, but scared. This new environment presented a lot of dangers for me. I was constantly aware of being found out and beat up or worse. I was very much shy. I was constantly on guard while in school and to this day I still am to a greater extent. But there are a few friends that I would be able to relax around. Jenn was the first one, but I met others since then that even though we haven't met yet, I hope that we can be the friends that we are on line.

*****

I find it quite amusing that during the announcements, that during the following week there would be an event called "frosh week", and the crowning of the frosh king and queen. It was apart of Homecoming. Each grade would have their own king and queen, with the senior king and queen getting top billing. I already had the queen title sowed up and needed no crown to recognize myself such.

That was going to prove interesting. At the end of the week there was going to be a "freshy dance" and all grade nines had to attend, it was mandatory. I thought, "Yeah, right! Me go to a dance? I didn't know how to dance in the first place, let alone figure out that the girls had to ask the guys to it. Hm mm, kinda idiotic if you ask me.' I laughed about it when I finished my day. I saw on TV a movie about a place called Dogpatch. It was a small, community in the woods, somewhere in the U.S.A. In this community, they have an annual celebration called Sadie Hawkins Day, where the girls chase down a boy to marry him. I wonder if this school got the idea from that movie.

I had so much homework that first day that I am so glad that I was able to stay with Jenn. You see, it was only a short 15 minute walk from our place to school. Heck, it would take as long or longer to drive when you add together the time it takes to find a parking space, and park. That was why I usually walked to school. I did not know how to drive,yet, and Jenn had already graduated.

The rest of the week went pretty much like the first day; I dressed in short skirts and tops and heels or boots. As for hose, I wore hose every day. I liked the way that the hose made my legs looked, and I was use to them from my time on the streets. On the Friday during home room I was passed a note by Mr. Heinrichs to see the principal.

I thought 'OH great, what now'.

So I went. This nifty distraction would take me away from English, anyway, and I knew that I was ahead after the first week. I was given my reading assignment for the semester. It was "Hamlet", a so called classic, whose standards is this classic. To me, it was like reading an alien language wit the difference in the language between now and then.

Upon entering the office I was told to take a seat and the principal would be with me shortly. I just sighed and sat on an old bench. I was called in to Mr. Badham's office and told to take a seat. He looked very stern and authoritarian. In my mind he still looked hot. Come on girls we all had crushes on teachers and principals. Anyhow, he paused before he spoke. And there is that song about Mrs. Robinson who fell for a boy, so to me, it was OK to lust for a teacher like him.

Mr. B: "Hmm, you are in violation of the dress code here, young lady!"

Me: "I am wearing that which is comfortable to me."

Mr.B: "It clearly states jeans and or skirts below the knees, as well as sneakers." he was looking directly at my legs while he stated this.

Me: "Well, I am abiding to the rules and I do not own a pair of sneakers, I never have owned a pair in my life and I would not begin to know how they would feel."

I uncrossed my long legs and just smiled. I knew I was flirting, did I care, no way. I so wanted him then and there that I had momentarily forgotten that I was a trannie.

Mr.B: "Tell me about your life, please."

Me: "I was a prostitute, turning tricks until a shooting scared me enough to want to go back to school. I am lucky that Jenn took me in after my parents threw me out. Now, I am attending school instead of continuing my lifestyle."

I can tell you this he was shocked and dismayed at my bluntness. He had never heard a story like mine, before. He had never thought about a teen girl doing what I had done. I guess that unless you are on the streets as I was, you don't know about the facts of life on the streets.

After about 90 minutes, he dismissed me with the requisition that I purchase sneakers and wear jeans as it was going to get colder out. I raised my brow at that and snickered. Cold? Whatever! I mean, you get used to the weather in short skirts and tops and light jackets in -40 weather and colder with the wind chill. If anyone has experienced a Canadian winter you know what I am talking about. But maybe it is as cold down in the States, I don't know, and I doubt that I will ever find out.

Well, anyway, he gave me a hall pass so I would not be marked late for my next class. I strutted into that class and took my seat, and all eyes were on me when I entered.

I thought 'I still have control of boys who want to be with me. Wanting to BE like me? Not likely!' silently laughing inside at this generalization. The day went much slower than I wanted it too. I sat at lunch against the old trees and read and caught up on homework. Everyone was either curious about me or just avoided me like I was a disease or something because I kept getting stared at, or raped by a set of eyes. I was so glad when I walked home that day.

*****

My dismay came the following week, Tuesday after classes. I should mention that I did tone my dress a bit. I wore skin tight jeans and tank tops with a jean jacket over my top. My navel still showed, though I never did wear sneakers, sheesh! No, I always wore heels to show off my legs very nicely and of course my hose, underneath. I found that the feel of hose under my jeans was very nice.

I was placing my texts in the locker and grabbing others to take home with me, when this guy Vaughn approached my locker and said "Hi".

I returned the sentiment, "Hi."

It did not take a rocket scientist to figure out what he was going to ask me. I played the game.

Vaughn: "My friends were wondering if you would like to attend a party after the dance this weekend," He had a cocky attitude when he asked maybe nervous as well.

Me: "No, I do not think so, as I have plans anyway. Besides, I will be leaving about 1 hour into the dance, so thank you for asking," I had to be polite, it was a nice gesture.

Vaughn: "We would really appreciate it if you could party with us after the dance. We are going to the valley and the party is going to be good."

He was starting to annoy me a bit by this persistence.

Me: "I do not think so. The offer is nice, so thank you."

I know what they wanted and well it was not going to work, so I played my bitch card to the max. I went on to tell him, "Look Vaughn, I do not want to go and even if I did want to, you and your 'little' friends could not afford me! Oh yeah, and your dad's and grand dads, either, so the answer is still NO!"

The look on his face was priceless; he looked utterly shocked at my statement. I grabbed my books and locked my locker and started for the stair case. He looked so pathetic and still dumbfounded staring at me and dejected. I on the other hand smiled and left.

Needless to say, the following morning in home room was an interesting event. You could hear a pin drop. I knew exactly what they were talking about, they were taking about ME! GOD, I was getting the hang of this pathetic school yard immaturity. I, for one, was notgoing to play their silly games. You see, I have been through way too much to play such juvenile games.

Firstly, I was way more mature than these kids, and secondly, I considered myself an adult. My life did not seem so lame now, and my confidence grew as did my self esteem. All through the next week up till the dance, every time I went by the guys, they would shut up. As for me, I just laughed, silently, because 'I' was in command.

The girls snickered and some approached me and let me know that it was good to put them in line. There were al sorts of rumors floating around about me: I was an either high class call girl, or a prostitute who had a big pimp to protect me were the two most popular. Oh, how dumb they were! Prostitute was correct, pimp not on their lives! I should correct myself here and say ex prostitute. I gave up that style after I saw and witnessed the horror earlier in those chapters. I just shook my head and smiled inwardly.

Do not get me wrong here. I was very much afraid and nervous. Sure, there were a few bouts of hilarity in that first week, but it never diminished the reality I was alone and felt in danger, especially if my secret got out. If it got out, I would be in trouble along with Jenn. I had all forged ID when I entered school, so that was also a huge risk I took. I was 19 when I got the illegal ID switched to a legal ID.

I did go to the dance, though, and did leave soon after to attend to my homework. I did it mainly because of Jenn. She told me about the fun that she had had at the dances when she went to high school, and thought that I would enjoy it, too. Truth to tell, I did.

I became a studious individual throughout my high school years. The rest of that first semester flew by and eventually the rumor mill ceased to exist around me, so I was ignored. Believe me when I say that I was ecstatic about that. I started to make some acquaintances and some would eventually be my friends at a later time in my life. Back then, I was still very guarded and very protective of my life and my choices. I was always haunted at night about my abuse at home and my time on the streets. I was damaged goods. My slate was written on and there was no way to erase it, no matter how hard I tried. I guess that it was the failures of the system to protect those that needed to be protected.

My marks were sufficient at quarter and at end of semester that I had no doubts that I was going to somehow make it. All my marks were high 80’s and low 90's. Not too shabby for a street smart educated individual, even if I do say so, myself. You see, I was told that I was a failure and would not amount too much. I now can laugh at those dumb comments made by my "father." I had something to prove to myself, not to him. I think that at that time, I did prove myself right and chose the path that I needed to.

Jenn was a huge support to me (GOD BLESS HER). In my heart I knew I was not going to fail anymore and chose the path I needed to make it in this world.

*****

The nightmares continued and so did my sessions with my counselor. I enrolled with the abuse line in the city. I felt that it was needed at the request of my doctors. I was placed on a better equalization dose of estrogen and my hormones started to balance out considerably. I was extremely lucky. By my 'mother' giving me her pills, she had run a great risk that the pills could have wrecked my liver. They DID make me go through a female puberty, and shrink my testicles, and penis into nubs. That was why I could so easily wear panties and my mini skirts; I had no boy's bulge.

By the time HS, began I was a 34c and comfortable with those on my 5'11 frame. I was still 135 and rail thin, however, it suited me. I had a statuesque body that was lusted after by the boys, and their dads.

The experience that I gained on the streets was a hindrance as well as a benefit for me. I feel that I came along way, and still have a long road ahead of me. I owe a lot of credit to Jenn. She stuck with me and really never gave up, she genuinely loved and cared for me. I certainly did and we became sisters.

I grew a lot and wished I had a childhood to enjoy the things children enjoyed while growing up. I wish I could turn the clock back. But, as I look back now, I would not change a thing, except maybe one. I was given to a family that genuinely cared for me and was willing to protect me and love me unconditionally. I guess that there is a life lesson here, and one to cherish, not pleasant to say the least, but one that will be a lesson. A life was not wasted, but nurtured by myself and grew to be appreciated. I will say this over and over again to those who I have met and have known. I will value my street smarts education over any book smarteducation I had, 100 fold, no argument, enough said.

*** DEDICATED TO JENN S (APRIL 11TH 1961 TO FEBRUARY 23RD 2000) GOD BLESS YOU JENN, LOVE YOU SISTER OF MINE.===