I can remember the first day at playgroup.
Afraid. Walking into a big village hall.
Remember the panic at all of those faces
Remember not wanting to be there at all.
The fact that I ran and hid under a table
I do not remember, though I have been told
I sat and ate handfuls of soft, home-made playdough
I really liked salt. I was 3 years old.
I was the weird kid who smelled of wee
And nobody wanted to play with me.
I thought that school sounded like something exciting
My sisters both went, and they knew loads of stuff!
I was keen to learn numbers and reading and writing
On my first day I realised that it would be tough.
It was loud. It was loud. There were too many voices.
Sometimes they were angry, but how could you tell?
In this anarchy you were supposed to make choices
Make progress, make friends. I thought I was in hell.
I was the weird kid who smelled of wee
And nobody wanted to play with me.
I try to be generous to those kids around me,
I must have been baffling: solemn and silent
I can’t be too angry that some of them found me
Stuck up. But I do wish they hadn’t got violent.
I was prodded and pinched, I was tripped up when walking.
A thousand small cruelties were my education
In the end I just played alone. Furtively talking
To no one. That can’t have helped my reputation!
I was the weird kid who smelled of wee
And nobody wanted to play with me.
It wasn’t all bad. I got on with most teachers
I wanted to learn, and I often excelled
But I’d never pick up on signal that reaches
Your brain when your wee can no longer be held.
The toilets were frightening, echoey places
With older girls lurking. I never went in.
But the damp and the looks upon everyone’s faces
Would tell me, too late, I’d committed *that* sin.
I was the weird kid who smelled of wee
And nobody wanted to play with me.
It was loud. It was loud. And my stomach was churning
But I could escape if I simply tuned out
Of the classroom and into the things we were learning.
I lived in a dreamworld, away from the shouts.
I got older, learned better control of my bladder
Could manage to hold out all day. Problem solved!
I was lonely and sad, still, but that didn’t matter
My troubling behaviour was marked as resolved.
If you know a weird kid who smells of wee
Be gentle. Be kind. Try to see what they see.
Tom Juniper Poetry 