Being made fun of isn't a new concept to me.
You see, when I was little, I was just a little bit different than all of the other guys. I did gymnastics. Now, I know what you're thinking. Gymnastics? Thats freakin sweet! Thats like a hidden talent! In all actuality, it was fun. I did it for 8 years, so I must have liked it.
Well while I tumbled across the floor and did crazy-cool ninja flips, all of my other guy "friends" were playing football. And, needless to say, as 3rd graders, the kid who did gymnastics was the focus of the teasing. Apparently, in a grade school mind, any boy that did gymnastics was "gay." I remember two boys especially who loved that word. Being called that was an everyday experience. And nearly every day, I cried because of it.
Fast forward. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Junior high. I think that we can all agree that this is the single most socially awkward time for anyone. During my junior high years, I really didn't have many friends. The friends I did have didn't really like me, and they made jokes about me behind my back. I wasn't a very good athlete, yet I was one of the smartest kids in the class, therefore, I was given the "nerd" title. Yet, another instance of me being made fun of.
Fast Forward. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
High School. QUOTE--The best times of our lives--UNQUOTE. haha. not so much.
My freshman year was the only year I actually enjoyed in high school. The summer before, I really started hanging out with Misty, a senior, who soon became my best friend. We had a great year together, and then she graduated and left me. sad day. My freshman year, however, I had a run-in with a teacher named Mr. Edwards. This balding, beer-bellied fellow from Washington was my creative writing teacher as well as my track coach. This man did more than tease me or poke fun. This man actually hated me. He told me so to my face. He based his hate on the fact I had friends that were Seniors in high school. He told me that freshman should be looked upon as scum and that we shouldn't have friends who were the top-dog seniors. This man even went as far as telling me to my face that he hated me. He used those exact words, even.
Sophomore and Junior year weren't much better. The only sport I did was cross country, which I wasn't any good at. I did, however, excel at Forensics. Now, in the minds of most high school students, if you were a guy who did forensics, you weren't cool. That made me, once again, the object of embarrasment among my peers. Needless to say, Sophomore and Junior year weren't happy times.
Fast Forward. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
College. Woot Woot. I love Friends U. No lie. Some people think that even if I wasn't happy here, I would still tell everyone that I was just to avoid the drama. But thats not the case. I really do love it. Today, however, was a different story.
This morning, I got up, showered, and put my clothes on. I put on my black and white Hurley shorts, a black T-shirt, and my black and white Toms. Pretty typical clothing for me. After my faith and learning class, I trotted down the two flights of stairs and headed towards my next classroom. I held my books in my arms, well, kinda like the statue of liberty holds the books, right? Like a normal student would hold their books... or so I thought.
Standing right outside of the room was one of my classmates, and for the sake of this blog, I'll use the surname Bart. Bart watched me walk down the hallway, and just as I reached him, he made a scoffing noise and said to me: Seth, why don't you carry your books down by your side. You look kinda like a girl. I was kind of taken off guard by Bart's statement, and as some sort of defensive statement, I said : I really don't care what you think, Bart.
For the next few minutes, I sat there thinking about what Bart had said. I couldn't help but feel some resentment towards him. I honestly wanted to leap out of my seat and smoke him in the face. I don't know what it was. Maybe it was just the way he said it. Like he was better than me. Like the way he carries his books is better, more appropriate than the way I carry mine. Pretty ridiculous, right?
Not twenty mintues later, Bart opens up his mouth again and says: Seth, you dress kinda funny.
Not again. The blood rushed to my head and my ears got hot. I retorted with: hey, thanks Bart. I think you dress kinda funny too. I mean, you do have a Bob Marley shirt on.
I immediately regretted saying that. Just because he was being a jerk to me, didn't mean I had to be mean to Bart. ugh. I'm just as low as he is.
Then, during some of the classroom discussion, My friend (another surname) Vickie was talking about how adults, when making decisions about schools, didn't really keep the students' needs in mind. I immediately agreed by saying : So true. A common phrase in my everyday vocabulary.
Bart looks directly at me, flips his wrist to suggest homosexuality, and and mocks me by saying : So true.
UGH.
When some people hear the word cruel, their throughts go directly to animal abuse, war crimes, genocide... But rarely when people hear the word 'cruel' do they think of teasing, bullying, being publicly humiliated... They consider the word 'cruel' to be too extreme to describe those situations. Maybe the word 'mean' would be more appropriate.
But what if we replaced those words with 'cruel'?
"Mom! Tommy won't quit being cruel to me. He's saying that his toy is better than mine!"
"I saw two of the high school guys being cruel to another one of the kids. Its such a shame."
"One of the people in the group was cruelly humiliated by one of his friends in the group."
I know for me, bullying, teasing and being publicly humiliated has ruined a lot of my trust in humanity.
Maybe, just maybe, someday I'll be brave enough to take a stand against Cruelty. I hope that day comes soon, because I definitely know how it feels.
