Somebody posted the following YouTube video on Facebook today. I don't tend to watch many videos that my friends post, mainly because I don't have a lot of time to spend on Facebook, but today I took a chance and I ended up crying my eyes out.
Something that I don't tend to talk about is that my (later) childhood years were riddled with cruelties inflicted upon me by my peers. I was treated like garbage on a daily basis, told I was a loser, ugly, stupid. All of the above. Because of this I grew up thinking I was stupid and ugly. A freak. Worthless.
Before my 4th and 5th grade years, I was a relatively happy kid--I had friends, kind of enjoyed school--but then my family moved to Colorado where I was considered different. Indeed, with my hispanic heritage I was not like the others--In 1989, when we moved to Colorado my brothers and I were the only kids of Mexican descent who attended the schools we attended. Plus, I had glasses.
I hate to pull the race card out and wave it around, but a lot of the mockery was race-related. It's strange but I cannot say that my brothers had similar experiences. They were just lucky, I guess.
Anyway, it wasn't long before the incessant teasing caused me to be ashamed of myself. For what, you ask? Anything and everything. I was wrong. How dare I show my face in public? How dare I speak in class? Make friends? Never, because who'd want to be friends with me. I wasn't good enough, wasn't smart enough, and I definitely was too disgusting to look upon. It was these thoughts that made me retreat into myself, caused me to hate everything I was.
I wasn't even 10 years old before I started wishing I was dead. I didn't want to wake up in the morning, didn't want to go back to school where all I would learn each day is how my very existence was offensive.
Fortunately for me time passed, I grew up and discovered how wrong those kids were, how wrong I was for believing them. However it took years for me to see that I am so much more than nothing. It took years for me to understand that I am intelligent, always have been, that I'm--bonus!--beautiful. I learned that I matter.
I will never know what my life would have been like had my mind not been poisoned, had I never been exposed to cruel children, and I try not to dwell upon it because my life turned out more than okay. I am happy, I am blessed.
That said, the emotional scars are still present. I still struggle in social situations, still freak out on the inside when I hear people whispering and laughing. I know better, that no one is talking about me, but the wounded kid inside me can't help but wonder.
Because of my experience I pray my girls won't have to deal with playground bullies. I pray that they won't be the playground bullies. I pray they will be willing to stand up for the ones who are picked on because when I was their age I would have done anything for somebody to be on my side for once.
All I can do is teach my girls to treat everyone like they'd like to be treated and hope they actually do so. I hope that other parents are out there trying to teach their children the Golden Rule as well.
Bullying is among the worst kind of torture that can be inflicted upon a child. Yes, sticks and stones break bones, but that kind of pain goes away. You never forget all those times a whole classroom full of kids made you feel less than human while a teacher looked on. That sort of pain does not fade.
Stop bullying.
Something that I don't tend to talk about is that my (later) childhood years were riddled with cruelties inflicted upon me by my peers. I was treated like garbage on a daily basis, told I was a loser, ugly, stupid. All of the above. Because of this I grew up thinking I was stupid and ugly. A freak. Worthless.
Before my 4th and 5th grade years, I was a relatively happy kid--I had friends, kind of enjoyed school--but then my family moved to Colorado where I was considered different. Indeed, with my hispanic heritage I was not like the others--In 1989, when we moved to Colorado my brothers and I were the only kids of Mexican descent who attended the schools we attended. Plus, I had glasses.
I hate to pull the race card out and wave it around, but a lot of the mockery was race-related. It's strange but I cannot say that my brothers had similar experiences. They were just lucky, I guess.
Anyway, it wasn't long before the incessant teasing caused me to be ashamed of myself. For what, you ask? Anything and everything. I was wrong. How dare I show my face in public? How dare I speak in class? Make friends? Never, because who'd want to be friends with me. I wasn't good enough, wasn't smart enough, and I definitely was too disgusting to look upon. It was these thoughts that made me retreat into myself, caused me to hate everything I was.
I wasn't even 10 years old before I started wishing I was dead. I didn't want to wake up in the morning, didn't want to go back to school where all I would learn each day is how my very existence was offensive.
Fortunately for me time passed, I grew up and discovered how wrong those kids were, how wrong I was for believing them. However it took years for me to see that I am so much more than nothing. It took years for me to understand that I am intelligent, always have been, that I'm--bonus!--beautiful. I learned that I matter.
I will never know what my life would have been like had my mind not been poisoned, had I never been exposed to cruel children, and I try not to dwell upon it because my life turned out more than okay. I am happy, I am blessed.
Because of my experience I pray my girls won't have to deal with playground bullies. I pray that they won't be the playground bullies. I pray they will be willing to stand up for the ones who are picked on because when I was their age I would have done anything for somebody to be on my side for once.
All I can do is teach my girls to treat everyone like they'd like to be treated and hope they actually do so. I hope that other parents are out there trying to teach their children the Golden Rule as well.
Bullying is among the worst kind of torture that can be inflicted upon a child. Yes, sticks and stones break bones, but that kind of pain goes away. You never forget all those times a whole classroom full of kids made you feel less than human while a teacher looked on. That sort of pain does not fade.
Stop bullying.
