flashback: first day of 6th grade all over again

I remember starting 6th grade very vividly; it was a new school, and a for me, it meant a whole slew of nervous breakdowns from your not-so typical adolescent. The summer before, I developed an eating disorder because of the level of anxiety I had about going to this new, much bigger school… I was afraid of the future, and unknowingly at the time, afraid of what I would be subjected to within the walls of this new school.

Turns out, the first days would set the stage for what I could come to expect from my fellow peers, which unfortunately remains a vivid memory to this day.

First days of class, teachers go through the roll for the first time, and as with my experience, there was no exception. However, this time, there it was: “Diane Moody. Diane? Is there a Diane in this class?”, the teachers asked, almost as if she were demanding the truth. “Um, that’s Duane.”, I replied, almost muffled by the chuckles from the entire class. “Oh, okay.”, she announced, moving on without a second thought.

Sigh.

Picture me, a pre-teen boy, much less than the “jock” that I clearly needed to be, in order to cover my obvious homosexuality, being called Diane in front of the whole class; naturally, I sunk deep into my chair with a clearly reddened face. I would only hope that this would be the last inference that I was a girl instead of a boy; but sadly I would be wrong. In fact, it sadly set the stage for the rest of my tenure as a student of the public school system. One could wonder if it was that moment that solidified those many taunts into the minds of my fellow classmates. Unfortunately, I would later find out that there was much more than a simple mistake that fueled such a vigorous need, that my classmates continually displayed, to continually tear me down.

Now, cut to this week; arrival in my anatomy lab. The professor announces that the quizzes from the previous week have been graded, and proceeds to call out names of the lucky recipients. And then, just as if time had reversed itself, there it was: “And last but not least: Diane Moody!”.

Lest my ears deceive me? There I was, in the 6th grade again… trying to escape the lifelong battle I have had with others using my homosexuality and lack of “appropriate” masculinity as means to ridicule and demean me; regardless of the fact, that if in this case, it was again, accidental.

Luckily, I am not that 6th grade pre-teen student; I am almost 30 years old now, and I am proud of my sexuality and of who I am.

“That’s actually Duane”, I replied. Quickly apologizing, I silenced his attempts to cover up his mistake, by simply stating, “Don’t worry, it isn’t the first time that I’ve been called Diane.”

With that, I took the power that others had wielded over me for so long, and put it in my back pocket; for good. Something about that really makes me feel better about having gone through what I did; if for no other reason than to finally put it to bed, for good.