I saw her.

I saw the outcast girl in the playground at my daughter’s kindergarten class. She was the one with her head down, dragging her feet as she lined up to walk into class.

I saw her again at recess when I volunteered. She was the one sitting all alone under a tree while other girls played. She didn’t even try to be included.

I saw her yet again on a field trip. She was the one who as she tried to join groups, found herself facing backs.

It’s not my daughter, thank the powers that be. It’s another little girl. And it was me. I was that little girl from first grade until high school graduation. With few friends, I spent many hours on the playground’s edges, staring at the other girls who so easily fit in.

I survived and after many years of therapy and work on myself, I now thrive. But this little girl brings it all back. And I wonder as I watch her dragging her feet into the classroom: What should I do?

I’m not sure. I’m really not. I’m not at the school every day. I don’t know if this happens all the time or it’s just isolated incidents. These incidents take on more meaning in my mind because of my past, because I can feel my inner child wince when I see them.

When I approach the girl, she doesn’t meet my eyes. When I try to ask her what’s wrong, her head hangs even lower and her body seems to shrink. Then the bell rings and she’s gone into the classroom world.

But at least I tried, I can say to myself. And no one tried with me, not one adult ever asked me what was wrong or how I was doing. At least I can continue to try, maybe sit next to her one morning, maybe, maybe, maybe. . .

Or maybe I should just let it go. Maybe this is just my story and I’m projecting it on her. I guess the only way to find out is to just watch, listen, ask my daughter to play with her, and maybe if she needs it, offer friendship.

By Georgie Craig

Labels: friendship, lonely, therapy

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