Memoir

Atwell's "Call Home the Child: Memoir" was such an enjoyable read for me, and probably one of those most entertaining. So entertaining in fact, that I didn't even realize how much information I was retaining that'll help me as an ELA educator. As we've been discussing throughout the course of this class, we cannot be teachers of writing unless we are writers ourselves, so I've decided to dedicate this particular blog post to writing a memoir just as some of the students did in the article.

Names have been changed because I don't have anyone's consent and don't want to embarrass anyone because this is a public blog.

Backbone

At twelve years old, it finally happened. I walked into first period, miserable as usual, afraid of what the day would bring for me. The teasing was relentless, but I had not grow used to it. How could you ever get used to such a thing? That day was different though, and in retrospect, that should have made me suspicious rather than happy. I sat down at my desk in the front of the classroom, and no one shouted "Hey ugly!", no one threw paper balls into my hair, no one seemed to notice me and a huge sense of relief washed over me. I was done trying to fit in with the cool kids, who were also the bad ones, and it felt good to be invisible in that kind of atmosphere. It was the calm before the storm.

A group of girls who were all best friends were quieter than usual in every class, and I thought that maybe they'd finally gotten in trouble, or finally felt bad for everything they'd said and done to me, maybe they'd gotten bored and moved on to someone else, but instead...they were plotting, plotting something far, far worse than their typical, taunting, annoying behavior. 

Third period science class came around, and oh cruel fate, we had a substitute. I was sitting alone just listening to my new Evanescence CD and I heard a loud "Hey Zayna come sit with us!" I turned around, only to see this group of girls smiling at me and waving over. I took off my headphones nervously, my hands shaking, my heart racing, but with optimism that maybe they'd grown to like me? Perhaps they wanted to apologize? That's certainly what it seemed like. They were engaging in normal teenage conversation about cute boys and how much they hated their teachers, they urged me for my opinion and the feeling of wanting to fit in suddenly remerged, stronger than ever before, electrifying my senses and turning me into someone I wasn't. 

"Michael is so cute! And I hate Mrs. Ashely (our math teacher) and Mr. Jackson (our history teacher)

"Why don't you talk to Michael? He said he thinks you're pretty too!" said a very confident, outspoken girl named Joanna. "Actually, you know what? I'll talk to him for you!"

"No that's ok" I said shyly, but little did I know, they continued to weave me into their little web. 

Fourth period came around and I even got to sit with them during lunch. Sitting at the "cool" table during lunch was the Middle School equivalent of witting the lottery for me. But then it got a little awkward. Michael came up to our table with his friends and I got nervous. Joanna blurted out "Zayna said she likes you why don't you ask her out?!" My face went red and my body felt like I was lit on fire. I did't like Michael, I just agreed with the overall consensus that he was cute. Michael and his friends took one look at me and laughed so hard. The tears of humiliation were coming on strong, but a girl named Tiffany asked me to borrow a dollar.

"Can I borrow a dollar for a bagel I left my money on the bus this morning. I'll pay you back tomorrow"

"Sure, but I only have a five"

"I'll only use a dollar"

But Tiffany came back with four bagels and a bag of chips that she gave to Joanna, Mary, and Octavia. I hadn't eaten and was too nervous to ask for my money back to buy lunch.

"Can I have my four dollars?"

"What are you talking about? You gave me that money and now you want it back?" Tiffany said

"I thought you only needed a dollar..."

"Don't tell me what I said, I'll smack you"

I got up from the table and walked toward the exit of the lunch room only to be greeted by Michael and his posse, laughing at me and calling me "mad ugly" I yelled at them and told them Joanna was lying, and Michael came up to me angrily telling me I better watch who I was talking to "or else"

I had more guts talking back to boys, even though they were stereotypically stronger.

"You're talking shit because you act like I won't beat your ass, ugly"

He was five inches away from my face and all the rage in the world made its way into my body. I pushed him away with such force that I heard my shoulder pop a little. I've never been in a physical fight before, and the thrill of it excited me. He charged at me, but I was ready. He went to grab my shoulders and I elbowed him i the stomach. I grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed, which I'd witnessed a girl do a few months ago in a fight on stairwell 5. I punched his back repeatedly, and his friends ran away laughing. 

"What the hell are you doing!" a voice said from ten feet away

It was Mr. Jackson, the history teacher I hated. He must have been on hall duty. He ripped Michael out of my grip and called security. All of that rage turned into fear. My mind raced.

"Did I just beat up a BOY?"

"Am I gonna get suspended?"

"He attacked me!" 

"This was a set up!"

I explained my story with tears streaming down my face, and Michael was suspended for five days. I was spared from suspension, detention, or any type of punishment. Security reviewed the camera's recordings and my side of the story matched up.

That was probably the most scarily satisfying thing I did in Middle School. I went back to school the next day feeling more confident than ever. Joanna, Mary, Tiffany and Octavia were waiting for me in first period to berate me on why I had gotten Michael suspended.

"I hit him because he deserved it, and he got suspended because he deserved it. Leave me alone and don't bother me"

I got called ugly numerous times that day. Pulled paper balls out of my hair, had my headphones stolen so I couldn't listen to music, and was harassed all day. I realized I could deal with the harassment because it was far, far better than associating with bullies. One day with them almost got me injured and suspended

I'm thankful though. My bullies gave me a backbone.