ANECDOTE TUESDAY - REEFAH

With much groveling, I had convinced my parents to allow me to attend a public high school instead of the all girl-girl Catholic school I had been accepted to on an academic scholarship.

At my mother's insistence, I had signed up for keyboarding class, electing to sit next to a girl who warmly smiled and waved me over. As soon as I sat down and squeezed my new five-subject spiral notebook and pens into the tight space between our archaic typewriters, the girl scooted her chair closer to me, then tossed her knapsack on her thighs.

"Yo girl," she said, startling me.

She doesn't seem so friendly anymore, I thought.

"Hi," I mumbled feebly.

"Look over here," she said pointing to her lap.

I looked at what seemed to be dirt in a plastic bag. "What is that?” I whispered.

"Weed."

"What?

"Weed."

"Dirt?" I asked in response. At fourteen, I had never heard that word nor seen weed.

"No," she hissed. "Weed. To smoke." She rolled her eyes, taxed that she had to even explain what it was.

I looked again and a light bulb went off in my head. "Reefah? I said, my Belizean accent automatically changing the "er" to "ah." I had only heard my mother mention reefah when referring to wayward, often ostracized family members.

"What?" The girl snapped.

"Reefah. That's what that is, nuh? Drugs?"

"No one says reefer anymore, and it's not really drugs. Just a little something to mellow you out," she explained, once again smiling.

I was rooted to my chair in fear of being labeled a drug-user, or worse, expelled. My public school experience was turning out to be nightmare. Maybe I should go back to Catholic school where it is safe, I mused in my naiveté.

"Here, try it," the girl said, offering me a smaller baggie. "I'll give you a free sample and tomorrow you can buy some from me."

"Um, well, my parents wouldn't want me to have it in the house so..."

"Smoke it in your bathroom when they're not home and spray some air freshener. You do know how to smoke, right?"

I avoided her question, instead saying, "Well, I...I won't have any money tomorrow. I think I'll pass, but thank you for offering," I said cordially.

She looked at me with disgust and started pitching the other student to the left of her. In an attempt to be helpful, I interrupted the girl’s presentation and showed her a sign that read, Say No to Drugs.

She glared at me then scooted her chair further away.