Acid Reflux

Here is one reason why I want to be an elementary teacher:

I was bullied a lot when I was little. It started as early as grade one, and continued until grade six (actually, there were even incidents throughout early Junior High, too), and every day kind of just blurred into one long-ass school year. A six-year school year. 

Now, even though I do not remember absolutely every single harsh word, eye roll, giggle, or sneer, there are some incidents that still stand out, and even though they don't hurt any more, I'll probably still remember them until the day I die (Take notes, people: your actions and words can stay with someone for the rest of their life!).

Grade three was a particularly rough year. I guess everyone was that age where children start to differentiate who they want to be friends with, and who they don't. It's a time where they start the very early stages of forming their little personalities, develop their skills, and decide what kinds of things interest them, and what doesn't. But at this age, not a lot of kids realise that everyone is different, and that it's okay. This is where I come in. I'm not going to say I was a "special snowflake, ohmygodhowunique!" kind of kid. I was funny-looking. I had messy hair, crooked teeth, big glasses, and I wore funny clothes; hand-me-downs that never really fit right. I was raised in a fairly sheltered, loving, yet sort of dysfunctional home, and with the exception of a couple of good friends, I didn't have much in common with the other kids. 

Needless to say, I got rejected a lot when I was young. There was a little clique, five girls that I wanted to be friends with, who would shut me down every time I tried. One time, they did actually let me hang out with them for a couple of recess breaks. I thought maybe I would become popular after all! But one day at last recess, the girls huddled together and left me out. 

"Who are we keeping in the group?" One asked. Now, I can't exactly use names, because this is the Internet and these are real people I'm talking about. So, fake names, it is. 

"Amy?" the same girl asked.
"Yes!" they all said back.
"Laura?"
Another yes.
"Madelaine?"
"Brittany?"
"Cloe?"
My turn was next.
"How about Seanna?"

"NO!" They all screamed, and then they ran away laughing. I remember my stomach felt like they had all kicked me at the same time, and left me on the ground, out of breath. I cried for a very long time after that. I even had to miss gym class and stay inside because I was too scared to tell my teacher what had happened. I don't think my parents ever found out about this, either. 

And it wasn't just the girls. Most of the time, some of the boys were in on it, too. That was worse. Because of this, I spent many years believing that I was ugly, and undesirable, and not worth anyone's time because I was not pretty. And the movies and shows and books I liked? The other kids made fun of. My clothes? Same thing. My voice, my hair, my face, my mannerisms, my drawings? Same damn thing. Nothing I did was good enough for the other kids in my class, and nothing I did to change my appearance ever worked. 

The point of my rant: the stuff I had to go through here, the bullying, the exclusion, the rejection, is one of the biggest reasons I want to teach elementary. When I was little, I thought there was nobody who could help me, or even wanted to help me. Things are much different these days, thanks to the help of a lot of good friends, siblings, a few teachers, and a therapist over the years. And the same kids who were mean to me did eventually lighten up and leave me alone. I did end up getting along with many of them years later. I just want to be that person that a child can come to and talk to without fear of being laughed at some more. I want to tell other kids that their problems matter, and that there is someone who is willing to help them.