Of the four girls on the block where I grew up, the pecking order went like this:
Laura (who once told me I’d be pretty if it weren’t for the chicken pox scar on the bridge of my nose),
Mandy (who, like me, had a Jewish mom & gentile dad),
me,
& Emily (who was suddenly forbidden from playing with me, a day or two after asking me where babies come from, and me sharing the facts as I knew them).
When Emily wasn’t there, all the cruelty that girls save for each other was aimed at me.
When she was, I was spared.
Process Notes
One of the beautiful things about this 3×5 practice is that sometimes it shines a light on story slices that might just be worth expanding upon later.
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PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!
