December 9th, 1975
Dear Diary,
I am so glad you are my friend. I carry your key around my neck or hide it in my room, to make sure nobody can read our secrets. Imagine someone would find you, and all my secrets would be spilled and shared with everybody, that would be so humiliating. I can’t even imagine. So much is going on. School is great. I like most of the teachers, but some of them I could do without. Especially the new guy, the young kid, he is different; I don’t like his way of teaching. He is loud and very spectacular, he hasn’t noticed me yet, maybe that’s why I don’t like him.
I am still reading the newspaper, and I cut out the important articles and glue them in a notebook as they told us to. Some of the news is good, some not so much. It’s good to be informed, but it’s so hard to find the right articles. You know, I heard some journalists are making stuff up, and I couldn’t believe it. Imagine you read the wrong paper and believe something and then it turns out to be a lie. I would feel so ashamed.
The world is bigger than I thought it would be. Our teacher said we have to learn about other countries as well. I didn’t get it at first. Why do we have to care about Africa or Asia, and what does it matter who becomes President in the United States of America? That’s all so far away -yet we have to know about it. I wonder, do they know about us as well?
It’s good to know what’s going on in the world. We saw pictures of hungry children in class, nobody complained about lunch that day.
I got new film roles for my birthday, and now I try to decide what pictures to take. The winter festival is coming up, and I thought I might take some pictures then. Many of my friends will be there, and I know Grandma will drive up here as well. The films are so expensive and developing the pictures is pricey as well. I can only spend that much, I still need some of my allowance for some candy and a magazine. Also, I saw a lip gloss that I would like to have, it makes the lips real shiny -I really want to try it.
I saw the boy again, he seems to be new in the village. He looked at me too, we almost talked, but then someone interrupted and we went different ways. I think he likes me too, can’t wait to see him again. I hope no one notices.
I don’t want to be friends with Elisabeth anymore, I really don’t like her, she changed so much. She says she is almost a woman now, but I think she is dumb. She thinks she is better than us, just because she is two years older. I think that just proves that she must be dumb or she wouldn’t be in the same class with me.
I wonder how I can tell her that I don’t like her anymore. I know I can’t say it loud, that would be rude. I have to find a polite and diplomatic way to not be her friend anymore so I won’t hurt her feelings. Dealing with people really gets trickier when you get older. I am 12 years old and I am a teenager now, I have to learn “stuff” like that.
Light’s will be out shortly, it’s almost 9 pm. I will write to you tomorrow.
Good night my friend.
Little me (41 years ago)
Just for clarification, I didn’t write this 41 years ago, I wrote it today in the morning. I still remember how things have been way back then when I was young. Not everything we had back then was bad, not everything we have today is good. Some things I miss!
Missing
I love this – our diaries held all our secrets, and looking back the world was so different-and especially through 12 year old eyes. <3
It brings things into perspective doesn’t it?
I love your writing style! Your post made me think of my own childhood, and now I have a huge grin on my face. Yes, I remember how life used to be before computers were everywhere and when people actually kept secrets to themselves (gasp!). Blimey, I must be really, really old…….
You are not old, neither am I, we are older and maybe a little bit wise ?
Well played, Bridget 🙂 I doubt I could channel 12-year-old me again.
You contrasted it well between the old diaries we kept vs children today. I haven’t seen a FB page of a typical 12-year-old today, but I really hope they have parent guidance on what is appropriate to share and what isn’t.
What was the most striking for me though was the discussion about camera film and the cost to develop it … how we had so little money and compromises always had to be made on how our money was spent.
Wait … that sounds a lot like today … 😉
My “workroom kids,” they make me remember. I am the exotic “animal” in their lives. They asks questions about my childhood, about Europe about boarding school -and they are merciless. The comparison between my childhood and today leaves me often speechless. I am grateful for my childhood. I had a harder childhood (in their eyes) but I also had a better one. I can see that, they can’t and that’s a good thing.
As revenge for all their questions I teach them things that they normally wouldn’t learn. Life is fair 🙂
You did have an exotic childhood and it made you who you are today … which is pretty damn awesome 🙂
*Blush*
Nice enjoyable
I enjoyed writing it. Stunning how much has changed.
isn’t that the beauty of a diary – journal.
The little you sounds a bit like the little me, Bridget. The journey into adulthood seems universal in some ways. I was talking with my husband yesterday about social media and how some of it is so fast and flashy and impulsive, devoid of care about feelings and consequences. It’s one of the reasons why I like blogging… it’s a little more real. It takes time and gives me a chance to consider my words before I hit that button!
I don’t participate on any social media side, mainly because I fell it is rather superficial. Also, I have work to do, I can’t research all day long. 🙂
Blogging is social media, but it’s definitely a different type than most. I’m glad you’re here!
I suppose I am social on my blog as long as I “allow” comments and interact with my readers. I am glad to be here. 🙂
Great post.The last quote you shared was thought-provoking and so true.
I have a tenancy to be thought provoking, so I have been told. 🙂
Oh, this takes me back to my young innocent days. Thanks for the nostalgia. =) I had diaries when I was growing up too. I can relate to a lot of what you wrote here; fear of people reading my diary, school, and friendships. I have always been a writer and I suppose you have too. Do you think we are born with the need to write? I think we must be since I can not remember consciously developing it…it has just always been there.
I tried to showcase the difference between the diary and Facebook today. Back then we were scared others would find out, today it seems many can’t wait to share everything with everybody.
I am not a writer, I am a story teller. 🙂
You’re right there, social media these days have meant most people share way too much. It’s like there are no boundaries anymore.
Sorry 😐I will make note 📝 that you are a story teller. I refer to myself as a writer but to each their own. 😊
🙂
Very cool post!
Thank you!
Love the innocent voice, your connection with your younger self is almost (if not completely) to the amazing level of Frank McCourt. 🙂
You were a terrific writer even at twelve. Funny, I still have a lot of those thoughts (that doesn’t mean I’m dumb does it?).
Well, I didn’t really write it in 1976, but I remember the time very well. A time when privacy still meant something and when we didn’t share everything with the rest of the world. A time when we had a handful real friends real friends, and not 400 online friends.
Oh, I see. I really am dumb : )
Not at all, it was misleading I suppose.