‘Miss, I can finally have my ears pierced!’

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A teacher tells Kek Mama what she is experiencing. This time: Miss Mirella (57) teaches Fleur in group eight.

Friday afternoon 12.15 pm. It’s recess, the class just streamed out. Fleur (11) stays behind for a while. “Miss, I can have my ears pierced during the holidays!” She pulls out her phone and shows me what she’s sent to her friends: “I’m allowed to have my ears pierced during the holidays. Nice right. Let me know if you like it with me, plzzzzzzzzz!!!!’

I am surprised. Until now, Fleurs parents were fiercely against ‘the mutilation’ of Fleurs ear lobes, as they called it. She was the last of the Mohicans to remain holeless: every girl in my class has them. There are also boys with earrings. The crown is Donna: she has a large nose ring. I can place that: her mother also has such a thing, and a belly button ring, and she also wears everything in her ears, paperclips, arrows, hearts…

Holes

It’s so different from my time. Back then, no one in my class was allowed to poke holes. My girlfriends and I therefore drew earrings on our earlobes with markers. By the way, we were also jealous of older girls with outboard braces. To solve that, we tied rubber bands to a simple diadem to hang behind our ears, so that it looked like we had one of those braces. On my eighteenth birthday I immediately got cavities.

As an adult I worked as a hostess in Spain for a while, where I saw to my surprise that girls already had their ears pierced as babies. You recognized the sex of the babies by their ears.

Read also – “My son wants his ears pierced, should I allow it?” >

Tack

After school I see Fleurs mother Minoes. “You tacked?” I ask with a grin. “Yes”, says Minoes somewhat disappointed. “It has to be. She’s wanted it since she was six. We don’t want her to be an exception anymore in high school. She is so happy.”

How excited Fleur is about what’s to come becomes clear the next day, when she stands next to me again during the break. She’s a little upset. “Miss, imagine if I die just a day before I get cavities. My grandfather also died.” “How old was he then?” I ask. “Eighty-one,” says Fleur. “That’s a normal age to die,” I say. “Very few people die when they are only eleven.”

She looks happy. “I’m glad I’m not dying. The only thing is that you get a lot of attention, from friends and stuff. But I would rather have my ears pierced.” She walks out of the classroom, to those friends. It’s more hopping.

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