Recess was never any fun at referee school. It took up most of the day, and we were scrutinized like watched pots. We were not expected to play like normal kids, only to fairly and accurately apply the rules of schoolyard games. We did this without traditional measuring instruments, whistles, or clocks. This was before instant replay was even a thing. 

       Me and my class were sent to Grover Elementary. Interaction with these unpolished, emotional young players was supposed to sharpen our skills for conflict resolution and objectivity. It was called hands-on learning.

       None of us ‘96ers left that program unscathed, egos bruiseless. The difference is I made it till the end. Everybody else left, either worn down physically or unable to keep up with Theory. I don’t blame them. The truth is, I sacrificed my childhood. I never played a single game of kickball. My parents saved every penny and they lived on beans and rice. All so that I could don the black and white and receive my diploma from the most prestigious academy in the U.S, and no one could ever ever ask me “hey where did you go to ref school!?!”