but as I sat down I saw the look of disdain he wore on his pasty face. He couldn’t see past the torn Levis and the beat-up leather jacket that I wore.

I quickly explained my problem to him, and how the football players had threatened to mutilate me if I came to school tomorrow.

Immediately he began to spout patronizing cliches, as though they were going to solve all my problems.

"Sometimes there is a conflict of personalities," he said. "You’ve got to learn to put yourself in their shoes and resolve problems before they escalate."

"It’s too late for that. They’ve already promised to beat the hell out of me."

"It’s never too late," he responded. "Life is full of difficulties and this one can be resolved with a little understanding."

My pleas fell on deaf ears, and before he could launch into a ‘if life gives you lemons make lemonades speech’ I stood up and left. Either he was a moron or he didn’t like me, either. Maybe, he thought that it would be a good thing for me to go a few rounds as a punching bag. Perhaps, after a little softening up, I’d give up my individualistic ways and conform.

The school counselor promoted the philosophy of putting myself in someone else’s shoes. I subscribed to the theory of knocking people out of their shoes. Touchy feely dialogue is all well and good, but sometimes in the real world one has to resort to more drastic measures. I voted for arms escalation. The next day I brought a baseball bat to school with me.

I carried it to every single class. The football jocks who had promised me a thrashing steered clear. The simple act of bringing a baseball bat to school had branded me a psycho, and even football players are afraid of messing with a psycho. The simple act of bringing a baseball bat to school, also got me permanently expelled. I pleaded self defense, and figured that the fact I hadn’t actually used it would be in my favor. The dour-visaged principal quickly cited numerous incidences of bad attitude, and even worse grades…and then I was out.

At that point, my respect for authority was at low ebb. I had tried to go through the proper channels and they had failed me. Many of the teachers seemed to be an extension of the student cliques that dominated the school. They still had high school attitudes, despite being fifteen to twenty years older.