Julie S. Lalonde - Resilience Is Futile: The Life and Death and Life of Julie S. Lalonde

I was smart and eager and was raised to always be kind. Thats why he noticed me. Years later, when Id become an established advocate and public speaker, a gruff AM talk radio host asked me what deficiency I had that made Xavier target me, and I came up empty. But the truth is, I was keen and kind and thats why he noticed me.

I met Xavier my first few weeks at a new school in a new city. Moving from a town of nine hundred to a school of nine hundred is one hell of an adjustment. Its even more complicated when you transition from a remote Northern Ontario public school to an urban Catholic high school in a convent.

It was the kind of high school people dont believe even exists anymore. The principal and several of the faculty were actual nuns. The dress code was a strict uniform of a polyester navy blue pencil skirt (below the knee), a crisp white blouse buttoned to the neck, and a matching blue vest with unflattering beige nylons and black Mary Janes. In the winter, the nuns were generous and let us wear a hideous blue cardigan.

You couldnt dye your hair an unnatural colour or have piercings beyond a simple earring, and men werent allowed facial hair or hair below their ears. We werent allowed a spare period and couldnt leave the premises on our lunch break. There were few openly queer students, and our religion class had explicitly homophobic messaging. Every year, the nuns would invite an anti-choice group to picket outside the school with graphic anti-abortion signs. My feminist heart died a little every day for three years.

It was made worse by the fact that my classmates had survived the dreaded grade nine together. Not me. I was plopped into the school in grade ten and didnt know a soul. I was fifteen and all limbs, desperately hoping that I would disappear into the sea of starched blue uniforms.

It was English class and the teacher outlined the books we were to read that year. As the teacher listed the texts we would cover, I realized I had read every one of them the year before. Phew. I had an advantage.

When I look back on it now, I cant for the life of me remember the question she asked, but I do remember it was about TheChrysalids, a book I adored. This was my shot. I could confidently answer a question. I did and I was right. But I soon felt my cheeks brighten as Xavier muttered under his breath Nerrrd like an eighties high school movie clich. People laughed and he looked at me with the smirk that we teach young women to recognize as flirting; he teases you because he likes you.

I hated him. All I wanted was to blend in, but I took a chance and raised my hand and then this asshole made a scene of it.

It only got worse from there. This new high school had a policy of having people share lockers. They were larger than average-sized lockers, but its still asking a lot for teenagers to happily share the one space at school that they can call their own. And when youre the new girl in school with no friends, it means having to pick at least one very intimate friend on your first day. I looked around and panicked as everyone else paired up and I was left alone. Fuck.

I tried to hide my panic but it was obvious, and two girls confidently approached me. I could tell right away that they werent cool girls. They were the type that have long embraced being outsiders and really leaned into it. They were weirdos with weird hobbies and weird names and they didnt give a fuck if you liked it. I liked them immediately. We decided to share one locker among the three of us.