“Is it a bird? Is it a plane?” 

“No, there’s Goldfish in the air!” 

That’s what I would have probably said to anyone who viewed the event that transpired that elementary day. This has been a core memory that has always stuck with me up until now, the Goldfish incident of 2017. Even though it has been over 6 years now since then, it has left an impact on my values.

The sun was shining as lunch finally arrived in our 3rd grade class. We were starved. We had spent our morning munching on fractions and electrons and we were finally ready for a delicious lunch. I rushed up to the lunch line along with my friend, Erin, and got ready to fuel my body up with the ultimate snack, Goldfish. A deliciously cheesy snack that anyone would have gone crazy for in 3rd grade. I sat down with my lunch and went to open my Goldfish when a problem suddenly dismissed my excitement. I couldn’t open it. My puny 3rd grade hands could not open it. I tugged and tried to pry it open yet to no avail.I lost hope on every pull I did. 

“Do you need help?” I moved my focus to Erin, who was eyeing my painful attempt at opening a mere bag. “No, no. It’s fine, I can do it.” Although I didn’t look as confident as I said so. Thankfully for me, she stopped eyeing me and continued eating her food so I could finally continue my battle with a bag. Although it felt like I was making progress, my puny hands were ultimately bested from a simple Goldfish bag. Before I decided to give up, I tried one last time, hoping maybe a miracle would happen. I pulled with all my might and suddenly before the class, an eruption of Goldfish escaped from my bag, flying across the cafeteria. Fish flew that day. Without a moment for the chatter to begin, our teacher escorted us out to the playground. As I followed the rest of my class, anxiety engulfed me. Had anyone seen what I’d done? If they did, would they snitch on me? What would my teacher say? What about my parents? My head was filled with these questions but I stayed hopeful that no one saw who caused that mess.

As we finally reached the playground our teacher made our class line up against the concrete walls outside. She held a stern look on her face as she scanned the line of kids on the wall, scanning each and every one of us. 

“I’m sure you’re all aware of what had happened in the cafeteria today. 

I know the question that’s ringing in all of our heads, who made the mess in the cafeteria,” Everyone stayed quiet, “Whoever made the Goldfish mess please come forward please, the quicker it’s over the better,” 

Everyone remained still, looking at each other for the culprit. 

“If no one steps up we won’t be having recess today, class,” yet I didn’t move. I made sure to make the minimum eye contact with her but I just couldn’t bear to come out and have everyone’s eyes on me. Minutes passed and she finally sighed, instructing the class we wouldn’t be allowed to play with the other kids in the other class during recess that day. Our entire class complained about the turn of events as they slowly slid down the wall to sit down.

I sighed and thought, “Thank god.”

Our class pitifully stared as the other kids played. It was then that a wave of shame and guilt washed over me. I turned to see many disappointed and upset classmates around me. 

“I was really looking forward to playing outside today,” Erin leaned over next to my shoulder to whisper to me and immediately made me regret my actions. It had dawned upon me what I had just blatantly ignored. Actions had consequences that would not only affect me, but also the people around me. 

I finally felt the weight of my actions. 

My friend’s beaten face really did it for me. Up until then I had only cared about my own personal well-being, what would happen if I got caught or the disappointment of my teacher and parents, yet I completely ignored anyone else’s well being. Although I never did fess up what I did until years later since I was a pretty shy kid, it taught me the power of honesty. Honesty can either free you or capture you in its grasp until you erupt.