By Mike Hixenbaugh
Jan. 15, 2012
The painted cinder-block walls of the boys’ school seemed to be closing in on him. Taunts and laughter echoed through the gymnasium. He glanced up at the fluorescent lights and rafters – both appeared to be spinning.
Over the summer, teachers had provided students with a list of supplies they would need to make it in sixth grade: notebooks, pencils, those folders with pockets and metal brads, three-ring binders. It didn’t say anything about underwear.
And now here he was – a prepubescent boy on the verge of becoming a teenager – standing red-faced on the first day of middle school while seemingly every kid in his class pointed and laughed at him. How was he supposed to know boys stopped wearing tighty whities after elementary school?