This was supposed to be a tweet, but it got away from me...
In grade school, starting in first grade, I had to leave when everyone else in the class had to do the reading unit. Not because I was disruptive - although I was - but that I was disruptive because I was bored and the teacher didn't have the heart to keep tossing me into detention. We weren't a big enough school to have a program set-up where I could go do a lesson with a group closer to my reading level, and she wanted to encourage me instead of punish. Instead, it was suggested I go tutor reading for the special ed department, and the teacher and her assistant gladly agreed.
It was not easy at first. I was frustrated at the 'baby' books my classmates were reading, and acutely aware that I was already 'different' enough and that singling me out from the herd was just going to make things harder on me with my peers. I was already taunted for being small and non-athletic, and for being gone so often to go to the doctor. So it was with a snarl and a grudge that I trudged up a flight of stairs and down the hall to special ed, stopping only long enough to stick my head in our school library and plead with our librarian to ask my teacher to let me help her instead.
No dice. Off I was marched, with our librarian standing with her arms crossed in her doorway, to make sure I went the rest of the way down the hall and didn't ditch out.
I'll admit, I was terrified. I'd never even seen these kids. What if they hated me? It was an utterly terrifying prospect for a weetiny girl who already butted heads with bullies.
It is possibly one of the best things that ever happened to me.
That's where I met Rose. It's where I met the people who showed me what unconditional acceptance could be, and gained one of my best friends. Rose has Downs, as did many of the kids in that group, although a few had fetal alcohol-poisoning. And they were the finally, finally, kids that took school as seriously as I did, and enjoyed learning. It was heaven. They didn't care that I was short, or that I liked books better than people, and I loved the passion with which they tossed themselves into things. I've always loved the bright people, the brilliant people, the ones who devote themselves completely to whatever it is they do, and that's where I finally found people who liked me for me.
I continued working in that classroom all the way through 6th grade, and when we all moved to junior high I was annoyed that I actually had to - you know - go to class instead of tutor. By this time, everyone knew I was a 'freak.' I read science fiction books for fun, did ballet for hours a night with a pre-professional company, and sucked at sports. I wasn't interested in boys or make-up, or clothes, and I just plain did not fit in. My parents kept saying it would get better, that the other kids would grow up, but it was hard to take them seriously when the other girls did things like tape bloody tampons to my locker or try and cut my hair during class. I had a small and loyal group of friends, but the fact of the matter was that most of them were a grade above me, and the ones in my class were picked on even more than I was, because people had learned early that if you physically got in my face I put your face in the concrete, despite my tiny size. I had learned how to bite back.
I wanted to go back to grade school; I wanted my friends back, whom I was not allowed to visit during school anymore. I didn't understand WHY I suddenly wasn't good enough to be allowed to work in their class anymore. I did cut school a few times to tag along on their field trips, but on one ever told on me. Not even the teachers.
So no, I don't think the 'R-word' is okay, that it doesn't mean anything anymore, or that people are being too PC. I think that if you're using that word, then you're the one with below-average intelligence and a sub-par vocabulary. I think that Rose still goes out to lunch with my mother a few times a month, and if you're stupid enough to insult one of my mother's friends, well, you deserve whatever you get.
So, that's a long way of saying it's "Spread the Word to End the 'R Word' Day," and you should. Bullying is wrong, period, and that's what that word stands for: institutionalized bullying. And I won't stand for it. Neither should you.
It was not easy at first. I was frustrated at the 'baby' books my classmates were reading, and acutely aware that I was already 'different' enough and that singling me out from the herd was just going to make things harder on me with my peers. I was already taunted for being small and non-athletic, and for being gone so often to go to the doctor. So it was with a snarl and a grudge that I trudged up a flight of stairs and down the hall to special ed, stopping only long enough to stick my head in our school library and plead with our librarian to ask my teacher to let me help her instead.
No dice. Off I was marched, with our librarian standing with her arms crossed in her doorway, to make sure I went the rest of the way down the hall and didn't ditch out.
I'll admit, I was terrified. I'd never even seen these kids. What if they hated me? It was an utterly terrifying prospect for a weetiny girl who already butted heads with bullies.
It is possibly one of the best things that ever happened to me.
That's where I met Rose. It's where I met the people who showed me what unconditional acceptance could be, and gained one of my best friends. Rose has Downs, as did many of the kids in that group, although a few had fetal alcohol-poisoning. And they were the finally, finally, kids that took school as seriously as I did, and enjoyed learning. It was heaven. They didn't care that I was short, or that I liked books better than people, and I loved the passion with which they tossed themselves into things. I've always loved the bright people, the brilliant people, the ones who devote themselves completely to whatever it is they do, and that's where I finally found people who liked me for me.
I continued working in that classroom all the way through 6th grade, and when we all moved to junior high I was annoyed that I actually had to - you know - go to class instead of tutor. By this time, everyone knew I was a 'freak.' I read science fiction books for fun, did ballet for hours a night with a pre-professional company, and sucked at sports. I wasn't interested in boys or make-up, or clothes, and I just plain did not fit in. My parents kept saying it would get better, that the other kids would grow up, but it was hard to take them seriously when the other girls did things like tape bloody tampons to my locker or try and cut my hair during class. I had a small and loyal group of friends, but the fact of the matter was that most of them were a grade above me, and the ones in my class were picked on even more than I was, because people had learned early that if you physically got in my face I put your face in the concrete, despite my tiny size. I had learned how to bite back.
I wanted to go back to grade school; I wanted my friends back, whom I was not allowed to visit during school anymore. I didn't understand WHY I suddenly wasn't good enough to be allowed to work in their class anymore. I did cut school a few times to tag along on their field trips, but on one ever told on me. Not even the teachers.
So no, I don't think the 'R-word' is okay, that it doesn't mean anything anymore, or that people are being too PC. I think that if you're using that word, then you're the one with below-average intelligence and a sub-par vocabulary. I think that Rose still goes out to lunch with my mother a few times a month, and if you're stupid enough to insult one of my mother's friends, well, you deserve whatever you get.
So, that's a long way of saying it's "Spread the Word to End the 'R Word' Day," and you should. Bullying is wrong, period, and that's what that word stands for: institutionalized bullying. And I won't stand for it. Neither should you.