Day 18

Day 18, Saturday: Tell a story from your childhood. Dig deep and try to be descriptive about what you remember and how you felt.

I remember so many little events that I'll forever cherish when I was little but nothing that I could go into huge detail about or remember vividly. I remember that we had life explaining conversations in the car all the time, I learned a lot on the way to school, but they're all kind of jumbled together, I couldn't even tell you how old I was. 

I do remember the moment when I first really realized how cruel kids and even adults could be. I was in middle school, which was a time that I would never want to live again. Ironic, since I've spent my teaching career teaching at the same level. Our school was very cliquey. Teachers and parents all fed into it. There were moments when kids were getting picked on or treated poorly that at the time I figured must be fine if the teachers weren't saying anything that I now know were forms of bullying and if similar things happened today teachers would have been in major trouble for ignoring or adding to it. 

Eighth grade was the worst of the two years. At that point groups had been formed and the "have" and "have nots" were separated, I didn't have the most fashionable clothes and I was more of a teacher's pet and do-gooder. I was made fun of and teased by girls who had been my best friends barely a year before. Even a close family friends daughter was in on it and I can still remember my mom talking to her mom telling her to back off. At which point she looked at me and said, "I'm sure it's not that bad, you don't really mind do you?" Thank God I had a mom who stuck up for me and wasn't about to allow it to continue. 

One day after school my mom picked me up and I got in the car and just sobbed. I hated school, on the way to the car one of the kids even yelled something about my haircut and the teacher, Mr. Sutton (he luckily quit teaching before I graduated high school) laughed right along with him. My mom called the school principal and demanded something to change. That enough parents were aware of what was going on and the mistreatment to certain students. That her job as a principal was to help students and make them feel safe and cared for in the building. My mom has always had a voice and strength to stand up for what's right (for the most part). 

I know a couple of kids were talked to and there was less name calling and teasing for a lot of us, but it was more realizing that my mom was always there for me. I had one teacher, an English teacher, that stopped me the Friday of that same week. She gave me a hug and told me I was brave and a wonderful student. I couldn't believe it, the girl who didn't say anything was brave. It still made me feel better and it was another moment that made me want to become a teacher.