After attending for a couple of months, I resigned myself to the fact that this is what I do every Sunday. I don’t like it, I don’t look forward to it and I’d rather not have to do it… but I know I’ve got to go and whilst I’m there I’ve got try my best. Otherwise I’ll face having to attend the Saturday club and potentially the after-school club too. From the group discussions, I learnt that the Saturday club is such the same as Sunday school but includes a two hour ballet class and everyone, boys included, all wear a pink leotard, pancake tutu and white tights with pink shoes. The rest of the time they wear ‘normal’ girl’s clothes; being a dress, skirt & top, even shorts and partake in the usual discussion groups, games and a drama class.
The after-school club involves doing their homework and little else, and unlike Saturday Club and Sunday School which are hosted at the run-down community centre on the rough side of town, it’s held at their own school! I dread the thought of having to attend that. The boys and girls who do each discreetly carry their two nappies, rubbers and frilly nappy covers in their school bag all day long. The after-school club is separate from other extra-curricular activities and detention groups and so far as I can make out, isn’t really talked about. Stands to reason really… if had to go to a specific room after school every day and don a girl’s uniform to spend three hours quietly doing my homework whilst wearing a nappy, giving me no excuse to leave my desk… I certainly wouldn’t be making a song and dance about it.
So here I am, after a few months of Sunday school, trying my best to be honest yet tactful, to play fairly and nicely with the others, to dance and skip to the best of my ability, to engage myself in the reading and discussion groups and immerse myself in the books we’re given to read… if I don’t give it my all on Sunday I’ll have do it all weekend, and I’ll do all I can to avoid attending that dreaded two hour ballet class.
The second book I was given to read was Heidi and it was really really boring. I had it for a month and read it from cover to cover five times. I’m currently reading Anne of Green Gables, which is bigger and better but still not great… but just like A Little Princess and Heidi, there’s supposedly lessons to be learned from the events and adventures the protagonists have… and every one is discussed on Sunday. The books may be boring but at least they’re better than bible study.
After six months, I attend a meeting with my probation officer to see how I’m getting along. Having been told that honesty is paramount, I can honestly tell him that I don’t enjoy Sunday School one little bit. It’s humiliating and embarrassing and I can’t wait ’til the day that I no longer have to attend. But until that day comes, I put myself into my nappy every Sunday morning before letting my mother button me into my dress and I don’t complain about it… I daren’t. The probation officer is pleased that I can finally admit to knowing the accomplices who’d vandalised Cooper’s Quarry and accepted my apology for lying in the first place. He didn’t pressure me to reveal their names though, not that I would if he had.
The only good thing about Sunday School is the fact that none of my friends know anything about it. I wouldn’t know what to do if they found out but I have a feeling what they’d do if they did. I’d be shunned and teased, taunted and berated, bullied and belittled… day after day after day.
