I don’t remember the last lie I told, but I do remember my biggest lie.
I had to be in 4th or 5th grade, and my class took part in an international pen pal program. We wrote to students of the same age and grade level in Australia, and it was fun.
I got curious about Australia, and felt I wasn’t getting enough information from my pen pal (it was a girl, but I can’t remember her name for the life of me). I read World Book encyclopedia in search of more info, and found there were Australians that looked like me; instead of being called African-Australians, which is what I assume upon seeing them, they are called Aboriginals.
After doing as much research as possible, I took the opportunity of informing the teacher’s aide (the teacher was absent for a period of time, and the teacher’s aide acted as a substitute) that I was an Aboriginal. She listened (patiently) and asked questions, and my answers were based on what I’d read.
As I got older and thought back to that crowning moment in my life, I kicked myself in the ass for saying something so asinine; I must have been desperate for attention or looking for a creative outlet for my overactive imagination, which I’m so very grateful to still have.
The more I think about it, the more I realize the teacher’s aide knew I was lying. I’m forever grateful to her for not calling me out on it; she must have understood. I was young and, while not necessarily dumb, quite naïve.