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Omar & the Notes

One of my earliest memories of being different was being in 5th grade for Mrs. Warrens class.  I had a crush on this gorgeous Persian/middle eastern boy named Omar.  He was the popular boy most girls in my grade had a thing for but I was not as subtle in my crush like they were.

I have always been better at communicating through writing but as many of you know the tone of the written word is IMPORTANT.

I wrote something like a threatening letter saying that I liked him so much and he was going to be my boyfriend--whether he liked it or not.  I put it in his desk--in the early 90s the desks were open on the side that faces you and apparently it fell out--and/or she saw me put it there and was nosy and read it.

She contacts my mom--who doesn't speak English--and brings in my cousin to translate...
My crush is there...my mom, sister, cousin--(and in my family that is enough to guarantee everyone in my family knows my business).

It was very humiliating and infuriating--I knew I could not trust my mother--and my teacher.  My crush not only didn't like me but now I am the weird girl that he avoids.


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