Surviving Sixth Grade

It was Johnathan Stecker who made my life as a sixth grader miserable. Tallish and cool, he rode a BMX bicycle, a Mongoose that he was very proud of. Before Thanksgiving, Mrs. Heimerl, our teacher, assigned us a prompt to write the story behind Norman Rockwell’s picture “Thanksgiving”. His narrative depicted a BMX bike crashing through the room, glass shattering, and guests screaming, captivating everyone with the vivid sound effects in his writing.

However, Johnathan Stecker was also a bully, known for calling me “Rettsch-dog”, a nickname I despised. His mockery continued despite his apparent concern when I returned to class one day after a visit to the orthodontist sporting a bottom lip bumper and headgear to realign my teeth. Wearing the initial set-up to school out of excitement for my upcoming braces, he joked that it was my muzzle, finding his comments amusing while I did not share his sentiment.

Following sixth grade, I don’t recall much about Johnathan. Perhaps he relocated. Maybe he fell down a hole and the earth swallowed him up. What remains certain is that I was never referred to as Rettsch-dog again after that year.

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