"He's a good boy." That's what people said. I pretended to not hear them. Did not want to be a "good boy". The "bad boys" got the choicest girls, attracted attention of teachers, police, school principals. They were known, recognized, even liked, praised.
Those--like me--who always said, "thank you", "please", and "excuse me" were not chastised for our behavior? Same old hated--in those words, "He's a good boy."
When alone, I would loudly say "Damn", "Fart" and "Fuck". Then, as I turned age 10, I tried, tried hard, to become a "bad boy". But I was not properly accepted, acclaimed, liked. People only laughed at me, saying, "Look at that good boy trying to act bad."
I kept on proving to myself and anyone else that I WAS bad, became a real drunk, and I existed with the emotions of a 15-year-old for the next 25 years.
Two things I wish to mention. At age 15, when I REALLY began my BAD life, all those other "bad" guys became good guys, earned post-grad degrees with honors. They got good jobs, stayed married, raised families "properly", became owners of successful businesses or respected elected officials (HA!).
By age 40, in poor health, I was stealing in order to support a rather expensive drug-and-booze habit. Life continued--then Something happened! I got well, began living with a gusto like never before, happily enthusiastic about EVERYTHING! What that Something was is between me and It...but I always now capitalize the word Something.