It was sixth grade, and yes
A flashback is kind of cliché
But anyway, I was auditioning for the Southwood
Jazz Band, my long term goal since entering
This school I stand in. With music echoing in my ears, I was
Accepted, and it made my soul
Complete.

Back to seventh grade, where I, a nervous youth, unchanged, will now
Enter a year filled with social
Pitfalls and unnecessary gossip disguised as traitorous friends and the ensnaring chant
Of, “Did you hear about what happened?”

My classes all included the friends that I had made
O’er the last (school) year and
Kids I did not know.
I was adjusting at the pace
Of a sloth-snail amalgamation.
And then came the class my sixth grade self
Had been grasping at all of last (school) year.
Jazz Band

Finally! I was able to utilize my raw
Percussion expertise in a class setting!
Which was one of
Two concerns about this personal
Leap of faith. The other was how the
Eighth graders, the idols and chiefs
Of this class
Would react to a scrawny, prepubescent seventh grader
Like me.

The idols ended up
Accepting me
For who I was, and the
Musician that I strived to become

For it is the simple act of acceptance
For it is the simple act of tolerance
That, to the naked eye, seems like
A microscopic detail

But…
If the act of tolerance
The act of acceptance
Can change one person’s
Entire life…
And help this person navigate the horror
That is seventh grade

Then maybe…
The act of tolerance
The act of acceptance
The act of a simple helping hand, or two, or three, or four… 
Isn’t so microscopic after all