W00T!!!!
I spent an entire day writing this essay for English. Finally, after writing essays I thought were good, but Mr. Childs didn't, I scored. On the essay, in purple ink, the only comments were praising it. I feel like I really earned it.
“Look at those two girls over there.”
“She’s like a three.”
“Maybe back in the seventies she was a ten.”
“Shh! They might be able to hear you.”
Never did I think that sitting outside Jamba Juice, doing my biology homework quietly, would bring on such a brutal attack. Amazingly I realized that I didn’t feel any pain for myself, but instead the ache in my heart was for my friend sitting across from me. I was worried that the comments of the group sitting next to us had hurt her feelings. It was at this moment that I discovered I had created a shield that allowed the remarks to bounce off, leaving the shallowest of dents. Thinking back, I know who I have to thank for this shield. The honor would have to fall upon the shoulders of one of the cruelest people I have ever met.
It’s ironic how a certain type of person will beg for information from another and then eagerly taunt that same person that was just helping them. This is exactly what this girl did to me. We only shared one class, social studies, but it was more than enough to be trapped in a room with her cruelty for those long forty-five minutes. In the beginning of the year she spent most of her time turned around, trying to scrounge answers from me. Naturally, I didn’t want an enemy so I was polite about it. My manners were in vain because as the year progressed, her spite for me grew and a barrage of insults was passionately thrown at me.
“Why don’t you straighten your hair?” she would ask in that haughty tone of hers.
“Because I did that for several years and it’s a pain in the butt. Anyways, I like my fro.” The issue of my unordinary hair was the choice spot for her heartlessness. She took advantage of the fact that she was assigned to sit in front of me by whipping her long hair over the top of my desk, causing whatever was resting upon its top to be forced up the floor.
“Isn’t my hair lovely?” she would say with a smile filled with such genuine malice that would make my stomach turn. I ignored her for the most part but then her cruelty bit with such voracity; I could not simply ignore it.
She recruited another into the war against me. He would laugh along with her teasing and join in. She controlled him like a puppet. They would write notes to me telling that her “puppet” had a crush on me. I brushed this off repeatedly but it was clawing into my being, making me dread simply setting foot into the classroom. I knew what hell lay in wake for me as soon as I entered.
After having an assignment that put me into a group with her, I spoke with the teacher. The way he shrugged off my complaint was a slap to my face. My feeling of hopelessness in the situation grew even more after my speaking to the teacher.
Through the rest of the year, one small ray of hope persevered. I looked forward to the fact I would be moving across the country, far away from the very bane of my existence. When my parents told me that we’d be staying here another year I felt my security blanket pulled away. The teasing she put me through was so agonizing; I couldn’t picture what it would be like to spend another year in the same school as her.
By the end of the year the rancor we felt for one another was obvious. I knew it was ignorant of her to judge me so, but it didn’t stop me from feeling worthless. I heaved a great sigh of relief with the end of the school year and beginning of summer.
She certainly isn’t the first or only person to bully me but she did with such a degree of menace that I have yet to see rivaled. Truly her cruelty has left a mark on me I shall never forget.
One thing I find disheartening is the way that not one person ever told her to leave me alone. The way people simply accepted that I was being attacked verbally is astounding. Did no one see the wrongdoing? It would be hard not to.
Throughout this whole ordeal I had the saying. ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never harm me,’ thrown at me whenever I asked for help. To simply tell me to dismiss the problem because it’s not physical violence was highly discouraging. Sure words may only be air from vocal cords, but still the feeling behind them can cut more than a knife. The fact that someone would even say such cruel things makes one wonder what possessed them to do so. It shouldn’t be ‘words can never harm me,’ but instead, ‘words that are supposed to harm me must come from fear.’ It was the girl’s fear of her own inadequacies. She attacked me because she knew she couldn’t rival me academically. I threatened her so therefore she had to somehow bring me down. She used words and my own insecurities to bring me down to her level, one where she could feel safe and empowered.
Although I know that this experience has helped mold be into the person I am, I won’t thank her for it. The simple fact is if it wasn’t her antagonizing me, there would be someone else. Life definitely isn’t free of bullies, so the only thing you can do is realize their words are nothing more than fear and not a reflection of you.
Perfect score. What a way to end the year.
---> Miss Fro
“Look at those two girls over there.”
“She’s like a three.”
“Maybe back in the seventies she was a ten.”
“Shh! They might be able to hear you.”
Never did I think that sitting outside Jamba Juice, doing my biology homework quietly, would bring on such a brutal attack. Amazingly I realized that I didn’t feel any pain for myself, but instead the ache in my heart was for my friend sitting across from me. I was worried that the comments of the group sitting next to us had hurt her feelings. It was at this moment that I discovered I had created a shield that allowed the remarks to bounce off, leaving the shallowest of dents. Thinking back, I know who I have to thank for this shield. The honor would have to fall upon the shoulders of one of the cruelest people I have ever met.
It’s ironic how a certain type of person will beg for information from another and then eagerly taunt that same person that was just helping them. This is exactly what this girl did to me. We only shared one class, social studies, but it was more than enough to be trapped in a room with her cruelty for those long forty-five minutes. In the beginning of the year she spent most of her time turned around, trying to scrounge answers from me. Naturally, I didn’t want an enemy so I was polite about it. My manners were in vain because as the year progressed, her spite for me grew and a barrage of insults was passionately thrown at me.
“Why don’t you straighten your hair?” she would ask in that haughty tone of hers.
“Because I did that for several years and it’s a pain in the butt. Anyways, I like my fro.” The issue of my unordinary hair was the choice spot for her heartlessness. She took advantage of the fact that she was assigned to sit in front of me by whipping her long hair over the top of my desk, causing whatever was resting upon its top to be forced up the floor.
“Isn’t my hair lovely?” she would say with a smile filled with such genuine malice that would make my stomach turn. I ignored her for the most part but then her cruelty bit with such voracity; I could not simply ignore it.
She recruited another into the war against me. He would laugh along with her teasing and join in. She controlled him like a puppet. They would write notes to me telling that her “puppet” had a crush on me. I brushed this off repeatedly but it was clawing into my being, making me dread simply setting foot into the classroom. I knew what hell lay in wake for me as soon as I entered.
After having an assignment that put me into a group with her, I spoke with the teacher. The way he shrugged off my complaint was a slap to my face. My feeling of hopelessness in the situation grew even more after my speaking to the teacher.
Through the rest of the year, one small ray of hope persevered. I looked forward to the fact I would be moving across the country, far away from the very bane of my existence. When my parents told me that we’d be staying here another year I felt my security blanket pulled away. The teasing she put me through was so agonizing; I couldn’t picture what it would be like to spend another year in the same school as her.
By the end of the year the rancor we felt for one another was obvious. I knew it was ignorant of her to judge me so, but it didn’t stop me from feeling worthless. I heaved a great sigh of relief with the end of the school year and beginning of summer.
She certainly isn’t the first or only person to bully me but she did with such a degree of menace that I have yet to see rivaled. Truly her cruelty has left a mark on me I shall never forget.
One thing I find disheartening is the way that not one person ever told her to leave me alone. The way people simply accepted that I was being attacked verbally is astounding. Did no one see the wrongdoing? It would be hard not to.
Throughout this whole ordeal I had the saying. ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never harm me,’ thrown at me whenever I asked for help. To simply tell me to dismiss the problem because it’s not physical violence was highly discouraging. Sure words may only be air from vocal cords, but still the feeling behind them can cut more than a knife. The fact that someone would even say such cruel things makes one wonder what possessed them to do so. It shouldn’t be ‘words can never harm me,’ but instead, ‘words that are supposed to harm me must come from fear.’ It was the girl’s fear of her own inadequacies. She attacked me because she knew she couldn’t rival me academically. I threatened her so therefore she had to somehow bring me down. She used words and my own insecurities to bring me down to her level, one where she could feel safe and empowered.
Although I know that this experience has helped mold be into the person I am, I won’t thank her for it. The simple fact is if it wasn’t her antagonizing me, there would be someone else. Life definitely isn’t free of bullies, so the only thing you can do is realize their words are nothing more than fear and not a reflection of you.
Perfect score. What a way to end the year.
---> Miss Fro