Prep to Public, Sex Rejects

“Did you get a photocopy of the chapter yet?” My fit, middle-aged local-Japanese teacher for American History asked that second day at Baldwin High. There were not enough books to give each student to use, so most of my classes gave me photocopied sections of the text books or materials. This was March of 2005, there were no kindle reads or google docs. If you didn’t have a handheld text, if someone gave you the wrong papers, you failed. “Not yet,” I answered, stepping into the classroom of 1930’s-style-design of early Hawaii architecture with single desks attached to chairs.

Hawaii public schools are mostly open-window, concrete-brick-wood structures with no air conditioning, open-air buildings, built in the late 1800s through 1950s before the annexation (when Hawaii’s monarchy became subjected to becoming a “state” of the U.S.A). They often have grassy courtyards, concrete floors, are 1-2 levels high with Island-Spanish style brick roof and colonial structure (many don’t know the influence Portugal and Spain had on our islands for some time). Baldwin was nothing close to the renaissance detail of many Oahu schools (like William McKinley High in Oahu) but it was the same school my mother and all her older siblings went to, so it already had a familiar history in my life.

A guy stopped me outside the classroom as the bell rang again, “You’re the new girl from Oahu, right?” Trick question. What is his motive. “I asked about you,” he continued despite my silence. We will call him Kea, for the sake of protecting real-life integrity. “I heard you went to Seabury before Kalaheo – you are smart. You are supposed to be in 06’ – but you ended up in my year 05, right?! That’s cray.” I just continued to pack up my backpack. His sleek haircut, perky and nearly full English sentences gave it away.

“Where did you come from?” I asked.

“Kamehameha.” The pride steaming through his high held head.

“Kapalama? Boarded?” I asked.

“Ya. How you know?” the cocky grin.

“You aren’t stoned. You talk fast and you have a clean hair cut but you look Hawaiian and you are interested in the fact I came from Oahu and private school. No one else cares.” I admit I was a bit blunt for most to handle. 

“Ya girl.” He followed me out into the hallway. The dirty grass-mildew-like smell of weed seeped in slowly. Young couples held eachother everywhere, kisses, hand holding, public affection was a normal thing. Everyone shaka’d, smiled, girls and guys both shout that “cheeeeehhhuuueeehhh” across campus. Baldwin was way more peaceful than Kalaheo – it was a nice change. I knew a few kids here already, it wasn’t like starting completely over like 9 months before.

“What you get kicked out for?” Kea’s voice height right at my left ear.

“I didn’t get kicked out of Seabury. Why’d you think that?” The rocksteady type singing was loud in lunch hour. Deep soothing male voices filled the hall in slow, long-held-note melodies about love, food and the waves from artists like Beres Hammond, Ka’au Crater Boys, Gregory Issac, and Fiji.

“So why you left, den?” Pigin coming out now from the prep-school-Hawaiian.

“My parents didn’t want me to have a boyfriend.” Here we go again.

Kea laughed, “Wat, they walked in?” Ukulele started strumming, some of the seniors were busting out all their jams.

“No.” I voiced over the falsetto Hawaiian mele starting to hit. “We told them we were in love. My boyfriend asked for my dad’s blessing and my dad told him no and sent me away.” Why was I telling this guy? I don’t know. Kea’s scrunched eyebrows showed his compassion. He wasn’t done prying, “I heard about your old boy from friends up at King Ke. Heard he a good guy. Hapa (mixed race), Pastor’s kid? He’s going pro in golf, right? I saw him in the papers plenty times.”

“Yep.” Everyone knew of each-other. It didn’t matter if it was upcountry or “town” as they called Wailuku/Kahului side, welcome to outer-island life. No point in hiding. “How about you, Mr. Kam Skooo?”

Kea’s cheeks were still boyish. He was around my height, toned-traps pulling nicely with his posture, clean cut, tan skin, nice new sneakers. “I got kicked out of school – not by my parents,” he was no-shame. “The school found out we were making porn with some classmates.”

Bingo.

“You the kids on the news, huh?” It was a huge deal. VHS tape or DVD got out. Talk about it was on every news station. Parents were flipping out. One of the biggest private school legacies with a public shame – way before facebook – everyone knew about this.

He nodded, somehow still able to look me in the eye. Calm. He found what he was looking for - equal rejection status – the different, rebels, odd balls somehow find each other and have an understanding. “Welcome back country-girl. Don’t be a stranger now.”

 *Please note that this read is meant to be entertaining, not necessarily factual