Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Stuck and Unfinished
I was not well liked in high school. In fact, I was taunted, teased, and tormented.
Let's look at the reasons why:
1. I am biracial, which equates to: long curly hair, light skin, straight nose (ok-in other words: as close to a pretty white girl while still being black without officially being white).
2. Boys liked me-a lot.
3. I was very smart and was in Honors English class throughout high school (only "nerds" should do well in school, according to my tormentors).
4. I was a cheerleader.
5. One of the best looking boys in school was my boyfriend.
Now, you may look at this list and wonder, How could this poor child be tormented? She sounds, well-perfect. Maybe that was the problem.
Girls are mean-very mean. And I was not the quiet, meek type. I am a peaceful sort, but I don't hide in shadows. Ok-so the cutest boy in school liked me...guess what I did? Dated him! So, other boys thought I was cute...what did I do? Flirt! So, I was in honors English class...what did I do? Wrote essays and stories that my teachers asked me to read aloud to my class, much to my embarrassment.
While girls followed behind me, whispering that they would "kick" my "ass, bitch" after school, I would hold my head up high, then run home sobbing to my mom. "Why are they so mean?" I would wail into my mom's blouse. "It's hard to understand, honey," she would begin. "But, well, they're just jealous." I was stunned...jealous of what?
1. My mother was white and my father was black: confused the hell out of me.
2. I hated my hair: why wouldn't it do what I wanted?
3. My sister died when I was 15: their sisters were alive.
4. I hadn't heard from my father in years: I had a perfect example of a deadbeat dad.
5. I was told I would "never get into college" because I would never be able to write a suitable entrance essay: as said to me by one of my honors English teachers, who was a racist.
6. I was a cheerleader: but had panic attacks during pep rallys.
7. I dated one of the most popular boys in school: who broke up with me to date a freshmen who was a drop-dead gorgeous girl.
What was there to be jealous of?
"They don't know all of those things," my mom said. "All they see is the outside. All they see is the face, the accomplishments. They don't know you."
It was not until I was in college that it all made sense to me. I was surronded by all kinds of women, beautiful and not so beautiful; educated women who admitted to their own struggles and shortcomings, and we laughed at the hilarity of life and its misconceptions.
And the mean girls? Where did they end up? I see them sometimes, looking stuck and unfinished-glaring at me from across a crowded restaurant. This is my tribute to them-na, na, na, na, na, na...
This post was inspired by my friend.
Posted by Jaimie ::
6:31 PM ::
41 Peeked Into My Diary:
.:Write In My Diary:.