About two years ago, a group of seventh-grade girls adopted me as their mentor. (Long story.) Last year, I met with them at school most Wednesdays during their lunchtime. Now, inconveniently, the six of them are in the ninth grade at four different high schools.

At the beginning of this school year I called their cell phones to make arrangements to see them. They shrieked, “Miss!! You can’t come here to this school. It’s not like middle school. I can’t have you here! We have to meet someplace else!”

Ah, I’d become so familiar as to resemble a parent, an embarrassment few teens want invading their social world. Not a problem. I promised I’d let some time go by and contact them when they’d gotten a bit more used to the new school.

So recently, I arranged to drop in on the three girls who attend one high school. I saw them in the lunch line and waved. They brightened when they saw me, but then caught themselves, rolled their eyes and looked put out. I waited as they got their lunches, and then, oooops, they sat down at two different tables. Hmmm, what’s this?

I started with the girl sitting alone. She gave me a hug and graciously introduced me to her friends. We talked about her summer and her classes. But when I asked why she wasn’t sitting with the others, her friends erupted in a chatter of Spanish. Ah, so this had been a fairly public blowup. As I got the story, lo and behold, it was about one girl calling another’s friend “gay.”

During the previous year, “gay” had been a huge topic with us. Well, a huge topic with me. I couldn’t stand their use of the word since “That’s so gay” is derogatory. Oh, they would assure me, they didn’t mean “gay” like that. They weren’t prejudiced, and they didn’t care if anyone was “gay” like that.

OK, girls, then from now on when I say “ugly” what I really mean is “pretty.” When I call you “ugly,” you have to remember what I really mean, right? Because when a gay person hears you hating something with the word “gay,” they forget what you think it means and it hurts. They assured me that gay people knew perfectly well that it was nothing personal, and besides there were no gay people around. Ri-ight.

In time I learned to drive them nuts by using the word “homosexual,” which is apparently a very naughty word that made them shriek with shock. Granted, they were prone to shrieking. If anything, it was hard to get them to stop. Still, whenever they used “gay,” I’d get all innocent about asking if the thing they disliked so much — the assignment, teacher, clothes, lunch offering — was “homosexual.” That would set them off, both because of my abject stupidity and the out-loud use of the forbidden word.

That was then. Now here we are in the ninth grade, with the girls not speaking to each other because someone took offense at the word “gay.” Oy.

I excused myself to talk to the other two. They warmed as I asked about their summers and listened as the one who always hates school vented about the wretchedness of the new one. The other girl, who is quite shy, liked the high school so well she launched into telling me about it, but was cut off by her more domineering friend’s disdain. I finally got around to asking about the tiff between the girls. The shy girl rolled her eyes indicating it wasn’t her fight and she wished it were resolved.

The school-hater explained that she has a really good friend who is gay. I had to ask if she meant “gay” in the homosexual sense. Yes it did. And the word also seemed to have lost its naughtiness. Homosexuals, she explained, are just no big deal to her. If her friend is gay, that’s just fine with her.

Even after hearing both sides of the story, the best I could glean about the incident was that the girls and their friends were coming into a class one day when the hugger made a stupid remark about school-hater having gay friends. By nature, the hugger is a really sweet kid, kind and warm, so I was surprised by her defensiveness when she told her side. I think she’d gotten cornered by her own thoughtless joke, and the surprise of finding that the object of her friendly teasing really was starting to identify her sexuality as gay. The school-hater has a large, forceful personality that often gets her into tiffs and feuds with kids and teachers alike. I think being raised by a single father and an older brother has made her a little tough and scrappy.

To her credit, though, even as she was retelling the details, suddenly and with both hands, she banged on the table, startling all of us sitting around her. “This is completely stupid,” she declared. She mused for a few moments, repeating “stupid, stupid, stupid.” The shy one couldn’t have agreed more. Finally, and with a last “stupid,” she shook her head and declared that she and the hugger have been friends since sixth grade, which is a really long time. You really shouldn’t just chuck old friends. In fact, you should talk it through, understand each other and get over it.

The bell rang. The lunchroom boiled over with action. The shy girl actually thanked me before bolting for class.

I walked the repentant girl out, ambling at her slow, don’t-push-me pace. When we said goodbye, she looked me in the eye and said not to worry, that she would apologize and make it right. I said I was really, really proud of her. She was doing the big thing. “Yeah,” she grinned, “this is the right thing to do. I’m glad this happened. It was good to see you, Miss.”

Really good to see you, Dear.

Julia Steiny is a former member of the Providence School Board; she now consults and writes for a number of education, government and private enterprises. She welcomes your questions and comments on education. She can be reached by e-mail at juliasteiny@cox.net or c/o EdWatch, Education and Employment, The Providence Journal, 75 Fountain St., Providence, R.I. 02902.