methinks

The Gang

When I was in fourth grade, I was in a gang. This was back in the 80s and in rural Illinois, so you shouldn't think that we had guns or knives or anything more than fourth grader fists. I hesitate to say we even had those. The only thing we really had to set us apart from the civilians was a loose dress code -- BK shoes and OP clothes whenever possible. It wasn't a rule, but Jade set the tone and we followed suit. Jade was the leader.

No one ever said, "Hey Jade, you're the leader." But one doesn't need to say those things. He was simply a superior rebel. He was the first to have the double-tailed skateboard and the first to wear the Tony Hawk hair cut. Not that we were skaters; He was the only one who could stay on his board for more than ten feet. But it was that ten feet that set him above us. He'd cuss, and we'd cuss. He'd draw obscene pictures and we'd wonder What is that?, then try to draw obscene pictures too. It was clear that Jade was as cool, as tough, as confident as a fourth grader could be, and we, like so many children and men, thought imitation would mold us in his form.

We weren't a large gang, no more than 5 or 6 people at any time depending on which marginal characters Jade let hang around that day, but our combined talents made us formidable. Jade was the unflinching Iceman. Tom and Mike were brutes whom Jade rescued from being common bullies. And I was the counselor, schemer, some might say instigator for the group. Take, for instance, the Suspension Bridge incident.

The playground equipment was divided into two sections connected by one single wooden suspension bridge, the kind with thick planks and chains that make heavy clinky noises when you run across. Not only was it a coveted piece of equipment in its own right, it was also a critical component of every decent playground circuit. I suggested that by selectively allowing some to pass and denying others, we could create a schoolyard aristocracy, over which Jade would rule.

The first day Tom had to shove someone off the bridge to illustrate our sincerity. I smoothed that over with the teachers. Afterwards, those permitted to pass - those who didn't have to be demeaned by jumping off into the mulch and climbing back up the other side of the playground - were elevated in the eyes of their peers. We gave the existing Nobles the freedom to cross with guests of their choosing, further entrenching them in our status granting system. Within a few days, the object of recess was not to play but to try to earn the right to cross the bridge.

Bribes, favors, threats, all forms of coercion were used trying to cross that bridge. Every other day a wet-eyed 3rd grader would threaten to tell the teacher, which of course got him a visit from a Noble who held his privileges dear. No one ever tattled.

That is until Mario transferred into our school. Mario's arrival spawned a competing Kingdom under the basketball goal, which eventually led to a brutal playground war that ultimately led to my leaving Jade's gang. But that's another story for another time.