valentine's day dance

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I had my first truly mortifying experience with rejection in the fifth grade.

I was a student at Pinecrest Elementary School--one of those public school gems with great teachers and state of the art facilities (they had a library! with books!), located in an affluent neighborhood in Miami. A lot of immigrant families (like mine) moved to the outskirts of the area (i.e. not affluent part) just so they could qualify in sending their kids to this school. This was great for my education but not so much for my self esteem. Everyone at Pinecrest was blonde, wore Bass loafers, and named Jennifer. I had sideburns, glasses the size of my head, and a name no one could pronounce (Jiyoung) so the students took it upon themselves to give me the easier to remember nickname: "Sushi".

A) That's so offensive.

B) Why did it not occur to them that "JiJi"might be an easier nickname?

C) I don't think we have to wonder whether or not I had a date for the Valentine's Day Dance.

The Valentine's Day Dance was a pretty big deal for the fifth and sixth grade students who were allowed to go and especially for our music teacher, Mr. Baker, who served as our resident DJ. In his gray polo shirt and plastic framed glasses, Funk Master Flex he was not.

On the day of the dance, I had my sights set on this guy with great hair and alliterative name and because I don't want to reveal his identity on a highly overlooked blog, I will refer to him as Benny Benjamin. But Benny Benjamin already brought a date (why are fifth graders dating and not, like, doing math??) so I stood by the side while I watched him dance with a girl whose name I forget but was probably Jennifer.

I thought seeing a guy I was crushing on dancing with another girl would be the nadir of my elementary school existence but, no, god had bigger plans for me. See, earlier that year, we had a new boy come to our school who had recently moved to the States from Korea. Up until this point I was like the only ASIAN at this school and the fact that this new student was not only Korean but a GUY, would prove to be bad news for me. I knew everyone would try to set us up based solely on our shared ethnic background. And when kids found out we shared the same name, it only made things worse.

That's right. His name was also Jiyoung.

The kids at school thought this was the best thing since pizza parties. Two Korean students! With the same name! Surely they must love each other! So during a slow dance, Jiyoung's friends coerced him onto the dance floor, laughing as they tried to pull us together and get the two Jiyoungs to reunite, but neither of us wanted to cross that DMZ on the dance floor. The look on Jiyoung's face was utter terror. Like he was being asked to dance with Kim Jong Il himself. Poor guy. This was his introduction to the American social scene.

My solution to this whole thing was to just run away.

Okay, I thought. That was the worst thing ever. That will be the worst thing that has happened to me at the Valentine's Day Dance.

But no. God was still trying to teach me lessons about humility.

The end of the dance was nigh and the only dancing I had done was hopping away from my Seoul mate. Mr. Baker announced that a slow song would be next and that we could request dedications to our Valentine. Feeling defeated and not blonde enough, I was prepared to make my exit, when my friend, Allen*, asked if I wanted to dance the next song. Allen was a cute, scrawny black guy and popular because he could run the mile in like 6 minutes. (Popularity at our school was based on how good you were in P.E., hence, I was screwed.)

I was so grateful for Allen's offer. I did not have to dance with the male version of me! I could dance with a popular boy! I am desired despite side burns! But as the song commenced, Mr. Baker cooed over the cafetorium, "This next song goes out to Allen and...Sherry!"

Jigga...

WHAAAAAT?!

Allen did NOT just dedicate a song to another girl before asking me to dance. Allen wouldn't do that! Allen was my friend! But I don't even think Allen said goodbye or gave any kind of apologetic acknowledgement when he bounced to the ounce and danced with Sherry, a cute, little black girl who could also run the mile at a respectable speed.**

Some notes:

1. Kids love coupling "like and like". Maybe it was from reading all those Highlights magazines. And maybe Allen didn't feel comfortable dancing with an Asian girl. After all, this was way before Kimora or Amerie or the phrase "Blasians be blazin'" was a thing.

2. At least Mr. Baker didn't announce, "This song is dedicated to Allen and...SUSHI." I would've literally died. Just DIED.

3. Rejection is never easy. Especially when you get rejected three times in the span of one afternoon. And, yes, I'm counting Jiyoung as a rejection because he looked totally horrified at the thought of being paired up with me.

4. I am forcing my boo to dance with me tonight.

Happy Valentine's Day!

*Names have been changed to protect me.
** Sorry if I got any details wrong. Please don't sue me. I have no money!