6th Grade

Rough year...the sixth grade was. It was 1978 and I was just transferred from Catholic School (St. Phillip & James) to public school (PS78). The last thing that I needed that year was a visit from the man that thought of himself as my father. You see, the guy is my biological father but what everyone who has ever watched an after-school special knows it takes more then sperm to be someone's father. So I am sitting in the back of the class facing the wall, my typical punishment that year, and I am summoned to the Principal's office.

As one can expect, I was very nervous as I headed out to see “the man” I just had no idea which man I was about to see. When I got to the Principal's office, the secretary told me to go right in. As I walked through the doorway a strange looking man greeted me and this certainly wasn’t the Principal. I looked around and began to try and figure out why this man looked familiar. It had been about two years since I had seen my father and I never remember seeing him clean and shaven. Having walked out on my mother, brother, sister and I when I was five years old, I wasn’t so sure who this man was.

He began asking me questions like, How are your brother and sister? And How is school going? when the Principal came in. He said, “Excuse me while I get something and I will be out of your way.” He must have noticed the confusion in my face as he stopped and looked at both of us and then asked me, “Do you know this man?” I looked at the sperm donor and then turned to the Principal and said “No!” The Principal then told me to go back to class and I ran out of there as fast as I could. As I was heading out, the sperm donor stood up and began to yell, “I am his father!”

Never had I been so glad to be back in class. For ten minutes, my mind raced as I tried to figure out what was going on. What did he want from me? Then suddenly another announcement rang out over the intercom. Again I was summoned to the Principal’s office, but this time, my little sister was also summoned. As I stood up, I began to surmise that the sperm donor must have convinced the Principal that he was my father and I began to speculate that he was going to take my sister and I away from my mother. This was suddenly too much to handle and I broke down and started to cry in front of the entire class.

After being consoled by the world’s cruelest teacher, I again began the journey to the Principal’s office. Maybe I shouldn’t go? Maybe I should just run out of the school and home to mom. No, that wouldn’t work, my little sister would be left behind and I may never see her again. I couldn’t let that happen. I began to case the halls to find something, anything that I could use to fight him off. Having found nothing, I hesitantly headed into office.

What a big relief I had as I looked up and saw mom in the waiting room. The Principal had called home and mom was there to pick us up. The sperm donor was no where to be seen and I have not seen that man in the 27 years since. That is my last memory of the man that called himself my father.