| Here I am, early 1992, very shortly after the events in this story take place. The girl in this picture was wiser than she had been a little over a month earlier on New Years Eve 1991. |
On that fateful New Years Eve in 1991, I had run an errand with my mother. While I was gone, the girl who lived on the corner (I'll call her Pamela here to protect her privacy), came over to see me. After my dad (who was home) told her I was out with my mom, Pamela wrote me a note and left it in the garage on my bike, knowing I would find it when I got home. The note just basically said that I could come to her house when I got home. I got home within the hour, found her note, and went over to her house. Her mother told me that they now had company, and Pamela couldn't come over now. Shrugging, I went home. I was hanging out in my garage. Unfortunately (as you'll see), I hadn't thrown away Pamela's note. It was still setting out in the garage.
As I was just hanging out, some other neighbor girls came over. Two of them were girls I hung out with a lot, Sarah and Lindsay. The other two were sisters, considered the "cool" girls in the neighborhood, Jessica and Andrea. I had hung out with them at our local pool, but nowhere else. This was the first time they'd come over to my house. I was a little distrustful of them, and didn't know why they were over here now.
"Hi Janelle," Jessica, the oldest, walked into the garage as if she owned it. "We heard you got a new bike, and we came over to see it."
It was true that I had just bought a new bicycle a few days earlier. It wasn't a Christmas present. I had saved my allowance for all of 1991 (and done odd jobs for neighbors) in order to buy my dream bike, and I had finally had enough money a few days after Christmas. It was a ten-speed, and I was proud of it.
I let my guard down a little as the girls all paraded into the garage to see my new bike.
 |
| Alas, we sold my dream bike several years later at a garage sale, but this is pretty similar to what it looked like...only mine didn't have a basket in the front. |
"It's even better than mine," Sarah agreed. Her bike was the a similar design, but was a one-speed.
"But yours has a basket in the front. I wish mine did," I told her, mainly trying to be kind.
"We should all go for a bike ride," Lindsay suggested.
"Hey, what's this?" Andrea suddenly bent over, picking up Pamela's note from where it had fallen onto the garage floor.
"Oh, it's just a note Pamela left me earlier," I shrugged.
Andrea read the note silently. "Look at this!" She exclaimed, handing it to her sister.
Jessica read the note aloud. "The nerve of her!" She exclaimed. "Who does Pamela think she is, trying to make you come over to her house when we were on the way over! She was trying to get you to ditch us and only be with her!"
Right off the bat, I saw how ridiculous this reasoning was. There was nothing malicious in Pamela's note. She was just inviting me over, as a friend. Neither she nor I had any way of knowing these four girls were coming over to my house. I tried to tell the girls this, but all four of them got worked up.
"Pamela's a jerk. She's always trying to make people ditch their friends to go to her house!"
I kept telling them this wasn't true, but they were so overexcited. They started making fun of Pamela meanly. I felt really uncomfortable. I was starting to get tired of arguing with them. I wish I had told all four of them to take a hike. In fact, in many ways, if I were given the chance to change one thing in my life, this would be it.
Finally, after an hour of this discussion, I finally agreed that Pamela shouldn't have written me the note, and should have just come over when I got home instead. I didn't even agree with what I was saying, but I was just trying to end the conversation and move on.
"Then let's write her a note of our own, telling her what we think of her!" Jessica suggested, and I knew I would never let them write something mean to Pamela.
"I'll write it," I said, knowing that I could keep it from being unkind. We all sat down. I got out a pencil and paper, and proceeded to write the stupidest thing I've ever written. My note said something like this:
Dear Pamela, Next time you want to visit, just call me or come over. If you write a note, it could accidentally hurt my feelings by mistake. See you later. Janelle
It was pretty stupid, writing a note to tell someone not to write a note. It wasn't a mean note, as you can see, but it was really dumb. Andrea and Jessica kept reading over my shoulder, and threw out things they wanted me to put in, but I didn't use any of their ideas.
"Now let's go give it to her!" Jessica exclaimed as we saw Pamela and her company strolling down the street.
Even though the note I wrote wasn't mean, it was really idiotic. And I am sure it looked mean to Pamela to see five girls run up to her and hand her a note. As we walked away, Jessica, Andrea, Lindsay and Sarah all laughed, and I'm sure that made it worse. I felt really nervous and bad about it.
"That'll show her!" Andrea laughed as we got back to my garage.
About ten minute later, Pamela walked up my driveway. "My mom wants to talk to you," she told me.
"Dum-de-dum-dum-DUM!" Jessica laughed, indicating that I was really in trouble now. I hoped I wasn't, but I was nervous. I kind of knew it was wrong of me to write the note to Pamela.
I followed Pamela to her house on the corner. My four "friends" stayed behind in my garage, laughing.
As soon as I got inside Pamela's house, her mother lit into me. She raged at me in a way that I think was way out of proportion. However, I had been mean to her daughter. Worse, I had let myself be pressured into it. And I didn't even do it to be cool or accepted. I did it to end an argument. I was tired of fighting and took the path of least resistance. I was wrong. I had sinned against God and Pamela.
Pamela's mother told me I was never allowed to visit with Pamela again. Pamela burst into tears, and I felt horrible. Fighting tears myself, I said, "I have to go home for dinner!" and ran out the front door.
Back in my garage, the four girls were making fun of Pamela.
"I think you guys should go home," I told them.
"It's a free country," Jessica challenged.
"But it's my parent's property," I glared at her. I was furious. They had gotten me in trouble, and didn't even care! They were still intent on being mean to Pamela.
"Janelle!" My dad's voice boomed around the corner just before he appeared in the garage. "Pamela's mother just called. You're grounded!"
"Ooooh!" The other girls all laughed as they excused themselves. Some friends.
Both of my parents yelled at me for the next hour, telling me what I already knew, I had been wrong to give into peer pressure.
"I wish I could keep Pamela's note," My dad told me. "And make you read it every day for the rest of your life!"
I shuddered at the thought of this incident following me all my life. I pictured myself as an elderly woman, still reading Pamela's note and feeling guilty,
After about an hour, my parents calmed down and left me to my own guilt. As I sat there, I realized that the next day would be a new year, 1992, and I wanted that year to be different. I wanted to make the right kinds of choices. To honor God, and hang out with good friends who encouraged me to do what was right.
I never hung out with Andrea or Jessica again. My friendships with Lindsay and Sarah waned as well (though, interesting side-note, my sister ended up buying Sarah's bicycle from her at a garage sale, so we had matching bikes). Pamela's mother got over her anger in a few days, and Pamela began to come over again (I was too scared to set foot in their house for a while).
That last day of 1991 was a turning point in my life. I saw what peer pressure really is. It's a lie. It promises more than it gives. What I learned is that it is NOT WORTH IT I resolved to do right, and by God's grace, I've done my best.
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