The Uniform

Girl Scouts is a big deal in 2nd grade. They let you wear the uniform to school on the day of meetings. You are part of something. You wear matching uniforms. My sister had been a Brownie already so we already had the dress and the little red tie and the hat. I was only lacking a sash, since a sash was personal, it was all about what you had accomplished as a Brownie. After watching the other Brownies come to school in their stiff uniforms on Thursday a few weeks in a row, I decided I wanted to be one of them. It made sense to me that all you had to do was show up next Thursday in the uniform and "POOF!" you were a Brownie.

That morning, after carefully dressing in the uniform, I had second thoughts.

What if it didn't work that way?

What if you had to pay or sign a form or have an interview?

I hadn't done anything but put on a hand-me-down uniform.

My chest was tight, it was like all my joy was ripped out of me.

Mom took my picture.

At the last minute I wore my long coat over my uniform.

I kept my head low all day. During Language Arts I noticed the uniform was showing under my coat. I quickly pulled it down, hiding the self-incriminating evidence that I was just a poser and not a "real" Brownie.

I spent recess alone, hiding in the bathroom.

After school I walked to the cafeteria where they held the meetings, as if walking to my own execution.

The leaders where very nice, so were the other Brownies. Turns out it really was just that easy to be a Brownie.

"Just have your Mom sign this paperwork and bring it back next time."

After the meeting I went home and threw away the paperwork, folded up the hand-me-down uniform and never touched it again.

Photo by whatmegsaid