If I were to be asked "would you ever do this again?" I would probably shake my head in desperation and cry from remembering how it all went...
Today i'm writing about my experience from 7th grade when I had moved schools, and how things went after I had left. To this day nobody in my everyday life will know, and I wouldn't let them know because they would think I posted it to be some attention dweeb, and this is my sanctuary so I feel safe knowing my experience is going to the anonymous, and not my friends.
In December of my 7th grade year I moved to a new school, new city, for the first time in 5 years. Having moved a lot in my childhood, I thought things like
I've moved countless times before, this shouldn't be much of a change right?
I was completely wrong
I moved to a city where things were big and the landscape was much larger. Things seemed quite normal, until I got to the school I was completely shocked and scared when I got there. Because the first thing I saw were the people, they were mexicans
I'm not generally racist, but as a child I had experienced many harsh moments because of the race, and being the minority race within Mexicans, getting bullied by them somewhat left a scar on me as I grew older, the last time I had seen that many in a school was probably the 1st grade due to trauma.
I was terrified and I knew right then I was in the county of my childhood, the place where kids shoved my head in the sandbox, the place where I would be forced to take my shoes of or they would push me then steal them to make me walk into a bee pit within the clovers. It was a terrifying place that scarred me, but I HAD to think optimistic, maybe they had changed. I was soon going to realize, they had gotten worse.
My first day there I met a girl [I'm calling her C for anonymous reasons] and she was kind to me seeing I was scared and also found out I was going to have multiple classes with her. She was incredibly kind to me and let me eat with her etc, and I also met a few other people who tried to welcome me with open arms as I went to each class.
I was beginning to think that I had gotten the wrong idea, being people were quite nice, but that wasn't going to last very long.
I had gotten out of winter break for the second time and I was trying to leisurely figure out what to do with my life, but it was hard, I cried almost every morning, finally realizing that I was missing my friends from my previous school and the fact that I wasn't going to be able to easily talk to people anymore, since everyone had different interests and mine were completely different [Meaning little to no weebs here]
[ The school I moved from was already released for winter break, however, the one I moved to, wasn't therefore, I had taken an extra week of school]
Eventually I got off my ass and stopped crying every morning, but I missed my old school a lot, and I would think about them and how they were doing every day.
School had started again and it's now January, it's officially my second week at school. I realized I was alone, and cold [Being winter] But what made it harder to survive, was that people had already started doing things for no reason. It was monday and I was in world history, and I sat near the back, but there was still someone behind me, and in the middle of class I dropped my pencil on the side while taking notes. So I go to pick it up when my table tilts a little, and someone kicks the desk to make me fall completely on my side, school supplies and everything. Everyone in class was laughing, but that didn't hurt, what hurt the most was that she pretended to help me and that the teacher didn't even notice that my weak desk was kicked from behind to make me fall over, she just said
It's ok it happens pretty often
Pretty often? You mean getting kicked to fall over happens "Pretty often?" That's complete shit. I was forced to tell my friends I just fell over and smile it off. I immediately felt like shit and wanted to go back to my previous school, and it was just the second week.
On Tuesday I had gotten told off by a few mexicans because on the first day, a teacher moved a kid's seat so I could have a place to sit. They said things like
Why don't you go home you stupid chinita!
Yeah you fucking dumbass go back to your stupid chinatown!
Stupid bitch took my seat when she can sit on the floor like any other stupid chinita
I felt like crying because I didn't think that my existence was goint to be that belittled over a stupid seat. The teacher found out this time though, and decided to call them out in class and tell them not to say those things. But it didn't really make me feel better, because they meant every word, but with a half assed "sorry" at the end. I was honestly hurt, and still to this day, I think they meant every word.
It is now Wednesday and the schedule does a 360 on this day, nutrition is different [there's 2 nutritions here, and 2 lunches too] I thought C was going to hang out with me, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen, in basic terms, I got travelled on, used to keep her company. But that was ok, I had my drawings with me to work on, I remember bringing in a spare sheet of paper in each day to draw so I would look like I was busy and not completely alone. I did this until I moved again in 8th grade.
I probably remember this wednesday specifically there to be the most vivid one of my life, and changed my viewpoint of that school within seconds. I was heading to lunch, but I didn't have lunch with anyone because it was wednesday and it was only my second week there. I was almost at the front of the lunch line when a tall mexican girl standing behind me is yelling at one of the boys at the lunch tables. The boy takes the gum from his mouth and throws it on her shirt, but she catches it and throws it back at him, except, it didn't land on him, it landed in my hair.
At first I just got the gum and threw it away at the trashcan that was right next to me, and I am lowkey getting upset, she and her friend begin pushing me from behind and I slap her hands away and tell her to back off. She gets offended and tells me "What's with your attitude?" and slaps me in the back of the head with quite a bit of force for me to almost hit the security teacher in front of me with my head.
I begin to cry because I immediately think things like "What did I ever do to you? What the heck is wrong with me removing gum from my own hair and telling you not to shove people around for you to be hitting me for no reason?" The girl laughs at me and says things like "aw look what a fucking child she's crying! lolol" and at that point the security teacher lets us get lunch and I run away from her as fast as I can, grabbing the food as quickly as possible as everything got blurry from the tears welling up in my eyes, I run into the bathroom to try and calmly eat my food but my hiccuping makes a commotion among the students, and i'm forced to throw my untouched food away and try to be alone as fast as I can. But eventually a few girls find me and take me to the counselor as im forced to point out who hit me and try my best to stop crying. It was probably the worst day of my life at that school.
The next wednesday came around and I immediately woke up scared, due to what had happened the previous week, I was terrified of encountering them again during lunch. So I had forced myself to pretend like I was sick so I wouldn't have to go to school. [It wasn't easy considering the fact that that my parents are very strict about attending school even if I am sick] My mom found out when she came home from work, and I was forced to go to school the next day, and she still had no clue why I was trying to desperately avoid school...
I hated walking into school, everyday the kids waiting in the hallways near the enterance of the school would look at me walking in like I was scum or that I was a hinderance in their daily lives, I got that look just for walking into my own school. I would immediately remember my old school and how I desperately wanted to go back, even if none of them had contacted me. Even when they did, there was already too much pressure for me to tell them what was going on, they had their normal lives, I couldn't even start telling them about mine.
It had been a few months since then, I met some people that I could hang out with during nutritions, and calmly eat with at lunch, I learned about travellers, people who went from group to group and constantly left other groups to hang out with others.I met plenty of them, and still to this day, many of them try to pretend and understand how I felt at the time I was there. But they couldn't, there is no way they could've.
I made a friend named W when I had no friends in PE, she was a grade younger than me [6th grader] and mexican at that, and I thought her life was quite calming and refreshing, when she introduced me to her friends. But she had hardships in school too, she lost friends and those people she lost made it harder for her to get back up, but she wasn't weak, and she was the reason why I forced myself to not cry as much. I basically became her asian best friend at this school, and we hung out despite our differences, We only ever had PE together, [even in 8th grade] I thank her partially for becoming the sarcastic bearable me today.
Or the travelers that helped me make a small group of friends, [that didn't last very long] Their names were T, D, J, B, and K. We would talk after school, doing homework, or playing games, or just plain talking, I never quite fit in with them, so I usually kept quiet, but they really tried their best to stay comitted to talking everyday. T, D, and K were graduating from the school [wow sounds fancy] so before the school year ended, when we became friends, they came to my lunch table to try and talk to me everyday along with B. There were a few others like A or V, but wasn't exactly convinced that they were there for me, unless they needed to know the homework assignments.
But this isn't exactly about how I made friends, and this story doesn't exactly end happy. I still had many bullying incidents, where gum was put in my face when I was sitting and drawing for no reason, or when a kid dumped apple juice on me and my friends because he thought it would be fun to try to hit us.
I eventually moved back to my old school for family reasons, but not everything was easily fixed. IT especially hurt when people suddenly pretended to care especially people I never even talked to my entire school year there, sitting next to them but them not giving a second crap about me being their daily english partner, until I had to leave their side.
Going back to my old school made it hard for me to process what had happened in 1 year. Everyone, no everything had changed. My best friend there had made completely changed, from her talking to her friends, my friends changed to, I had decided to hang out with a different crowd and things changed durastically for me.
The morale of this long ass post, is that bullying isn't freaking funny, and don't you dare be one for fun, whether it's verbally or physically, because I can say where I live now isn't exactly the little haven either. A boy has punched me once when I had walked out of class and said "what the f**k is wrong with you" when I didn't even talk to him, I have been bashed in for situations that has nothing to do with that person and was trying to make me cry on purpose so he could laugh. This shit isn't funny and it won't ever be.
Some people did enjoy their experience at that other school, same asian race, but not everyone will be treated the same, not even if your only priority was to sit in a chair, and learn.