Sir Nameless on Nostr: It started in the third grade. I was moved into a different class, a different age ...
It started in the third grade. I was moved into a different class, a different age group, in the middle of the school year. At first it was a lack of acceptance. Then it was verbal. Eventually it got physical.
I was younger and smaller than all of them. I was book-smart. I had plain brown shoes instead of Air Jordans. I didn’t know who all the famous baseball players were, or the Top 40 bands, and I hadn’t seen all the movies. I was too young to know that I didn’t have to give a shit about what others thought about me, or how I could dish their nonsense back at them. All I knew is that my peers thought I was a loathsome little worm. And I believed them.
My parents tried to help me deal with it, probably with the idea that part of growing up is learning to how to handle difficult people. Mom advised me to be true to myself. Dad said I should fight back. But to this little boy, being myself WAS the problem. And fighting back? Fighting is bad, I was taught, it gets you in trouble, and I’m supposed to behave in school (there was even a grade for behavior on our report cards), and turn the other cheek too. Besides, even an 8-12 year old knows when he’s outnumbered and outgunned—I swear, one of them was shaving by the fifth grade. (1/6)
I was younger and smaller than all of them. I was book-smart. I had plain brown shoes instead of Air Jordans. I didn’t know who all the famous baseball players were, or the Top 40 bands, and I hadn’t seen all the movies. I was too young to know that I didn’t have to give a shit about what others thought about me, or how I could dish their nonsense back at them. All I knew is that my peers thought I was a loathsome little worm. And I believed them.
My parents tried to help me deal with it, probably with the idea that part of growing up is learning to how to handle difficult people. Mom advised me to be true to myself. Dad said I should fight back. But to this little boy, being myself WAS the problem. And fighting back? Fighting is bad, I was taught, it gets you in trouble, and I’m supposed to behave in school (there was even a grade for behavior on our report cards), and turn the other cheek too. Besides, even an 8-12 year old knows when he’s outnumbered and outgunned—I swear, one of them was shaving by the fifth grade. (1/6)