Picking on someone . . . is it justified?
A little history before I start on my topic today; I am no stranger to being picked on. It happened a lot in both Primary School and Secondary School, and to be honest, now that I look back on it, I wonder if I am to be blamed for it. In Primary School, it was mostly my skin that got the flack: I remember being called both "lizard" and "crocodile", or something close. However, there was this other girl who had skin worse than mine, yet she seemed to get along very well with her classmates. Hence, I cannot help wondering if it was something else. Either way, I cannot really remember now.
In secondary school, I think I had the reputation of being weird. I'm not very sure how it came about, but I think it was because I was different from the girls. I was not very sure how it came about, but I do remember having my nose in a book practically all the time. I think I got addicted to reading in primary school, because that was how I coped with being picked on. Hence, I had my nose in a book all the time and that was probably why I was so different. I also had the feeling that I had a superiority complex; I thought of myself as smarter than everyone else due to my English being so good. In that respect, I probably deserved it.
However, in RP, things are a little different. This time, I'm not the one being picked on; in fact, I seem to fit quite well with my classmates. The guys in my class basically treat me the way they treat the other girls; some teasing from time to time, and I even get poked like them. I have friends in my class as well, and we get along extremely well. Yet, there are two girls in my class who do not seem to be able to fit in as well. I am quite friendly with them, though sometimes, I too, get annoyed with them.
One of them, Rachel, gets into trouble with my classmates because she practically does all the work without consulting her group members. I even got into a spat with her once, because she refused to listen to me when I tried to correct one of the slides. One of the other guys in my class, Jhomel, is quite a patient person at times, but after working with her yesterday, he told me later that he was ready to spit blood. In fact, we could even hear them arguing all the way from the other end of the classroom. Another problem was that she kept asking all the irrelevent questions, questions that the team had already gone through earlier. Stacy looked ready to slap her in fact.
As a result, she does not seem very popular in class. The guys make fun of her by refering to her as 'maggot', while some of us girls end up bitching about her because of our fustration. As much as I feel that she did deserve it, I cannot help feeling that I too, am being mean. To be honest, I actually do enjoy listening and taking part in those bitching sessions, and during the aftermath of it, I feel guilty. I'm starting to loose some respect for myself in fact, because of this, especially since I know what it is like to be picked on. I really ought to talk to Rachel about this. True, it might be too late to repair her relationship with this present class, but at least in her future class, she might be able to fit in.
If she would even listen to me in the first place. I can always try, I guess, but I'm not very hopeful about it. Oh well, at least it is the thought that counts, and who knows, maybe I might even end up being successful.
In secondary school, I think I had the reputation of being weird. I'm not very sure how it came about, but I think it was because I was different from the girls. I was not very sure how it came about, but I do remember having my nose in a book practically all the time. I think I got addicted to reading in primary school, because that was how I coped with being picked on. Hence, I had my nose in a book all the time and that was probably why I was so different. I also had the feeling that I had a superiority complex; I thought of myself as smarter than everyone else due to my English being so good. In that respect, I probably deserved it.
However, in RP, things are a little different. This time, I'm not the one being picked on; in fact, I seem to fit quite well with my classmates. The guys in my class basically treat me the way they treat the other girls; some teasing from time to time, and I even get poked like them. I have friends in my class as well, and we get along extremely well. Yet, there are two girls in my class who do not seem to be able to fit in as well. I am quite friendly with them, though sometimes, I too, get annoyed with them.
One of them, Rachel, gets into trouble with my classmates because she practically does all the work without consulting her group members. I even got into a spat with her once, because she refused to listen to me when I tried to correct one of the slides. One of the other guys in my class, Jhomel, is quite a patient person at times, but after working with her yesterday, he told me later that he was ready to spit blood. In fact, we could even hear them arguing all the way from the other end of the classroom. Another problem was that she kept asking all the irrelevent questions, questions that the team had already gone through earlier. Stacy looked ready to slap her in fact.
As a result, she does not seem very popular in class. The guys make fun of her by refering to her as 'maggot', while some of us girls end up bitching about her because of our fustration. As much as I feel that she did deserve it, I cannot help feeling that I too, am being mean. To be honest, I actually do enjoy listening and taking part in those bitching sessions, and during the aftermath of it, I feel guilty. I'm starting to loose some respect for myself in fact, because of this, especially since I know what it is like to be picked on. I really ought to talk to Rachel about this. True, it might be too late to repair her relationship with this present class, but at least in her future class, she might be able to fit in.
If she would even listen to me in the first place. I can always try, I guess, but I'm not very hopeful about it. Oh well, at least it is the thought that counts, and who knows, maybe I might even end up being successful.