The picnic was in full swing. A fifth grade graduation celebration where the guests of honor were not little kids any more, but not quite teenagers either. They were learning, though, by practicing, playing at being older. Girls were admiring each other’s jewelry, cooing over the latest clothing fads and the aps on their smart phones -- tools of the pre-teen trade. Mid-conversation with a group of parents, one mother realized that she hadn’t seen her daughter for a while. She did a quick scan of the party. Where was she? Not with the girls huddled together whispering. Not with the group around the food table. Not with the flirty girls being chased by the boys. And then – ah -- there she was. Sitting at a distant picnic table, facing away from the crowd, legs stretched out, ankles crossed, gazing down as she ate her hot dog. Her heart seized at the sight of her daughter, alone, ignored, unnoticed.
My heart went out to this woman, a work mate, because I have been through similar times with my daughters. And I have personal experience to draw from. Flashbacks to the times when I felt like a no-count nobody because I was excluded from social events or teased and publicly humiliated. I still get mad – 40 years later -- just thinking about it.
