I have an amazing husband, a college degree, and a full time job I excel at. Teaching middle and high school students have given me so much perspective on my time in middle/high school. I'm going to try to post some of these thoughts here.
On People Making You Feel Insignificant (Hint: They Shouldn't)
"Do it again and I'll hit you," a young girl cautioned her brothers. Whatever the behavior, it continued. The young girl followed through. "Mom, Rosa hit me," her brother moaned.
"I did. I warned them I would," she said.
Years later, she grew out of her hitting phase. When she grew out of tantrums, she grew out of hitting people.
"You keep doing that and I'm going to hit you," he told me. Either whatever I was doing was so insignificant, or the shock of his follow through blocks my memory recall of what was happening to create such a response. We were in the wax room with other teammates preparing for a meet. I was in middle school, he was in high school. He was my coaches son, the fastest on the team. He lead the wax sessions when his dad had to step away. He used to call me "skitz" when his dad wasn't around. When I was around him, I felt uncool. Small. Like I deserved to be hit.
Smack. My ear started ringing. It took a second to realize my ear was burning because he had slapped me across my face. I remember feeling ashamed, like I had deserved to be hit. I wasn't embarrassed that he hit me, I was embarrassed that he had hit me in front of my friend. I went to the bathroom to recover. I cried. My ear hurt. It burned, red and angry. I told my older brother, thinking it was his job to defend me. He didn't say anything. I hid my ear behind my hair, and returned to the wax room. I pretended like nothing happened. I didn't tell my coach, embarrassed. I felt like I deserved it, that somehow how I was acting warranted the physical reprimand. I didn't tell my parents. I knew it would cause drama. I was scared to "tell on" him. I wanted to continue competing, and I felt that I would fall even father in the ranks of his eyes if I told someone.
Fast forward ten or so years. I am accompanying my friend who covers local news to an arraignment at the courthouse. We sit in the back. When the judge comes out, he is processing about half a dozen individuals. I recognize the back of the head in front of me, and I recognize his mom. I realize it's him. He's rescheduling his court date. After his rescheduling, he has to walk by me while exiting the courtroom. All the sudden, I'm in middle school again. I feel the burn of my ear as I recall a memory I hadn't thought about since it happened.
Then I think about where I am in my life, versus where he is. He was attending court with his mother, while I was passing through after a weekend with loving friends. I had just texted my husband. I was on my way to fly back to my amazing job where kids look to me daily for guidance and I have opportunities create positive relationships with my students.
Ten years later, I felt a different reaction to the event. I felt shame that I had not told anyone. For a brief second, I wondered what would have happened if I had said something. Would it have changed anything? If people kept speaking up early for the little things, would he have still ended up in court? I chastised my middle school self for not speaking up, but then I remembered more. He convinced me that I deserved to be hit. He constantly made me feel insignificant, like I didn't matter. That if you were good at a sport, you could get away with more. This wasn't my fault. He was just good at getting away with things. He was in a place of power, and he used it. Too often students are convinced that they can't or shouldn't speak up. Had I brought it to light, he could have been charged with assault of a minor.
