"Home-Schooled Jungle Freaks"

Kyle

Kyle, or as I called him, “KY-OH-LUH!” was one of my early teachers, who further influenced my love language of quality time. He was a constant through many of my life’s transitions, from childhood to adolescence. 

We were young when we met. I was in 4th grade and he was in 5th. I had just started at a new, private school, because my elementary school was sold, and closed. I didn’t know anyone at this private, home-school. This school, though very untraditional, became one of my favorite childhood experiences. Kyle was a fellow student and his mom offered day care at their house, after school. So, I would often go home with Kyle, and some other friends from school. 

This was also not traditional day care, rather just a landing space for all of us to hang out after school. Kyle had a trampoline, a cute golden retriever, and ducks, who scared the shit out of me. My friend Bailee and I would lock ourselves in the bathroom to play Mad Libs, or whatever other bizarre things we could think of doing, while hiding away from the boys. The boys were probably relieved that we weren’t bothering them, while they were off skateboarding or playing video games. 

Kyle had the coolest jungle themed room and a drum set. To say I was jealous, would be an understatement. I always wanted to paint my room a fun color. I don’t know when my desire to play the drums began, but it could have very well been influenced by Kyle. Kyle always had cool things. Once, he had this trick paper and pen, that you could write edible notes on. It didn’t taste good, but it was so intriguing. I always wanted to hang out with him, but I was an awkward, shy, quiet girl. Wasn’t I meant to hang out with the girls, and do girly things?

Our school teacher was legendary. She was so sweet, kind, and brilliant to put this school together. I think the grades ranged from about 2nd-8th, so there was quite an age difference between all 12-14 of us. At the end of each school year, we would go on a class trip somewhere. One year, we went to Capitol Reef, and I let a shared crush get between me and my friend. It was an unrequited crush on my behalf, so she and him ended up spending a majority of the trip together, leaving me behind. (Which in full disclosure, I very much deserved. I didn’t take the rejection well.) 

Kyle and his friend Seth were kind enough to let me join their group. Which was extra gracious, because I imagine I must have been complaining to them, for a majority of the hike. Whenever I imagine Kyle, I think of him in the photo that was taken of us on that trip, having lunch on the trail. (Which I sadly can't find right now. I'll upload it later when it finds me, again.)  

I think it was the following Christmas, that Kyle was my secret Santa. I was having a melt down, because I was having the hardest time learning my part for the recorder recital. I ended up needing the support of my teacher, to hand point to each note, during the recital. I was so relieved when that performance was over. Receiving my gift from Kyle after, was the icing on the cake.

His mom made jewelry that I had always admired, and wished I could have something from her collection. He gave me some earrings that she had made and I gave him the biggest hug! Hilariously, I don’t think this gift meant anything deep to him. His mom just happened to have something on hand that made for an easy gift, but I was smitten. 

Our young fling was short-lived. We were 12-13 at the time, so I hid it from my mom. Not that there was much to hide, except for the Valentine’s ring that he bought for me. Which I then lost and had to buy a replacement for, without him knowing. The replacement ring was too big, so I had to wrap tape around the back. It was so ridiculous. 

If I remember correctly, one time we just climbed a tree, in his front yard, and just hung out. I don’t remember what we talked about, if anything. The Kyle I knew was quiet, an observer. A quality I could deeply relate to. He didn’t complain. He just went with the flow. 

Soon our time at the private school came to end, with the school sadly closing its doors. Our classmates would be splitting up and attending multiple different schools. Kyle and Bailee were going to be at the same school, out of my neighborhood’s boundaries, so I got special permission to attend the school, so I would at least know two people there. 

Going from a school of less than 20 kids, back to a school with hundreds of kids, was quite a shock. Kyle being a grade older than us, meant no shared classes, and different friend groups. But, thankfully we were reunited in high school Calculus class. 

The shock from middle school to high school felt equally dramatic and scary. A school with even more students, and being in a higher math class, meant even less familiar faces. I started to panic as my classmates found their seats and I didn’t recognize any of them, until Kyle walked in. 

He was such a calm, anchoring presence to me, and he probably had no idea. Even though we didn’t hang out or talk much, just knowing I wasn’t the only “home-schooled jungle freak” in a sea of rich kids, made me feel less alone, and understood.

Calculus class was HARD. I don’t like asking people for help, but I don’t like getting grades below an A even more. So, we created a study group for an upcoming test, and honestly that didn’t help me either, besides the shared suffering. On test day, Kyle sat down next to me and opened up his pencil, to remove the tiniest, most microscopic note of equations I have ever seen. I was equal parts pissed and impressed. I would have never done that as a student, but the rebel in me now remembers the moment in fondness and thinks, “How punk rock.” 

I can’t listen to The Vandals without thinking of Kyle, especially the Hollywood Potato Chip album and their cover of Don’t Stop Me Now. The Drop Kick Murphy’s also remind me of him. His taste in music didn’t land with me at the time, but I can look back now and appreciate it even more. Little bread crumbs of radicalized thoughts were making their way into my mind and soul, and now they’re paired with nostalgia and memories of him. 

I am so grateful for the memories that I have with him. Kyle and his home were such a big part of my childhood. I’ve written a few letters to him since his passing, and in the most recent one I joked that maybe he and my dog Olive are both sending me snakes as animal guides, because that’s the most jungle-like creature we have in Utah. 

Well, I looked up his Facebook page to confirm that I had remembered his birthday correctly, and I smiled when I saw that his profile picture was of him holding a beautiful, yellow snake. Thank you, my friend. I hope you can give Olive some loves for me. 

Happy birthday, Kyle.