I Was Born With a Resting Bitch Face – Chapter 6 – School Is Not a Place for Fun

School is a place to study.

Not to have fun.

And definitely not to smile.

Starting in middle school, my specialization was language and literature.

Have you ever read the literature we studied?

If you finish it and you’re still smiling, you might be a psychopath.

I did find a few exceptions.

But what is 1% when you still have to survive the other 99%?

Anyway.

Smiling at school was suspicious.

Why are you smiling?

What’s so funny?

Are you paying attention?

Apparently, the smarter the student, the less they smiled.

Because a serious face meant you were thinking.

Probably about literature.

Probably about somebody dying in it.

I learned this lesson in Grade 3.

My classmate smiled.

I smiled back.

Big mistake.

We spent the rest of the lesson standing in opposite corners of the classroom.

Facing the walls.

Yes.

Two children were caught smiling.

Unacceptable behaviour.

After that, my mom gave me a napkin.

Not for crying.

For hiding my smile.

Whenever something funny happened, I’d cover my mouth with a napkin and pretend to cough.

Brilliant.

Nobody could accuse me of laughing if I was clearly fighting for my life.

I became very good at it.

A little cough.

A serious expression.

Maybe another cough if things got particularly funny.

I was never caught again.

My teachers probably thought I was the sickest child in the classroom.

Poor girl.

Always coughing.

Always looking miserable.

Trying so hard to survive another school day.

Which, considering our literature program, was actually a pretty appropriate expression.

So while other children might have learned to raise their hands before speaking, I learned something equally important.

You can laugh all you want.

Just make sure nobody sees your face.

And if they do?

Cough.

Apparently, my resting bitch face started as an excellent academic survival strategy.