Liquid Protein (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} theurgistfish) wrote,@ 2008-11-24 03:54:00 |
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Imbalanced Justice
In sixth grade math class, as students were coming in from a previous period, some big fat white girl with long dark hair said something mean to me--being that I was sitting to her left and she didn't want me to sit close to her. I had chosen front and center so I told her to shut up, although I knew better than to use that phrase. The teacher was in the hall watching students run about so that they wouldn't cause trouble.
She stood up, asked if I wanted to do something about it. I stood up. She pushed me. I pushed her back. She gave me a black eye. My first thought was that punches really do sound just like they do in cartoons.
The entire class scrambled to appear normal. I sat at the kiddie desk to the far right as our class was overfull. I tried not to cry. The teacher asked about my eye, if I needed to go to the nurse, because it was so red. Eventually the snickering started. She lost her patience and asked if anyone would tell her what was going on. Some 'good' kid stepped to the side ans whispered something to her.
Knowing I was soft, she took me outside first. I cried. The kids heard it. From the first, she was accusatory, "I didn't expect this from YOU, Tina." And I the one with a black eye. What a crime.
In the end, both my assailant and I got two days in in-school-detention. It was actually kind of a blast. My teachers sent all my work at the beginning of the day. I was done in twenty minutes and I colored-- until my guardian said it was a punishment so I couldn't. Then I read books-- and ran out of books to read. She also said I couldn't enjoy this, but conceded that I could read some science textbooks or magazines. Fine.
I also got it at home. I don't know if the bully did or not. So my teacher, my principal, and my parents ganged up on me to tread on my last bit of resistance, what little self and will I could hold at eleven years old. All the tears in the world were mine.
The other little girl, however, knew something that I had not yet grasped. That the justice dolled out by the authorities was imbalanced. She could punch me, and we'd both suffer-- I perhaps more because I had my reputation as a 'good' kid and my overbearing parents. She also knew something else-- that you've got to take care of yourself first.
This is something every parent knows. Every seat in the audience on graduation day is inhabited by a person who got where they are by taking action. They could not be adults if they let themselves get run over and whine to their boss or the President or whomever they perceive with control and power. Yet this is the way the shcool was run. STepping out of line-- regardless of cause or degree-- was punished. There is an equality to that. Commie nonsense. No wonder there is so much anger and violence.
Even being mostly non-violent, a Christian, someone tolerant to an extreme, if I had it to do over again, I would've lit into her with every ounce of my own. I'd still get in trouble, but I wouldn't have to deal with that bully again.
In sixth grade math class, as students were coming in from a previous period, some big fat white girl with long dark hair said something mean to me--being that I was sitting to her left and she didn't want me to sit close to her. I had chosen front and center so I told her to shut up, although I knew better than to use that phrase. The teacher was in the hall watching students run about so that they wouldn't cause trouble.
She stood up, asked if I wanted to do something about it. I stood up. She pushed me. I pushed her back. She gave me a black eye. My first thought was that punches really do sound just like they do in cartoons.
The entire class scrambled to appear normal. I sat at the kiddie desk to the far right as our class was overfull. I tried not to cry. The teacher asked about my eye, if I needed to go to the nurse, because it was so red. Eventually the snickering started. She lost her patience and asked if anyone would tell her what was going on. Some 'good' kid stepped to the side ans whispered something to her.
Knowing I was soft, she took me outside first. I cried. The kids heard it. From the first, she was accusatory, "I didn't expect this from YOU, Tina." And I the one with a black eye. What a crime.
In the end, both my assailant and I got two days in in-school-detention. It was actually kind of a blast. My teachers sent all my work at the beginning of the day. I was done in twenty minutes and I colored-- until my guardian said it was a punishment so I couldn't. Then I read books-- and ran out of books to read. She also said I couldn't enjoy this, but conceded that I could read some science textbooks or magazines. Fine.
I also got it at home. I don't know if the bully did or not. So my teacher, my principal, and my parents ganged up on me to tread on my last bit of resistance, what little self and will I could hold at eleven years old. All the tears in the world were mine.
The other little girl, however, knew something that I had not yet grasped. That the justice dolled out by the authorities was imbalanced. She could punch me, and we'd both suffer-- I perhaps more because I had my reputation as a 'good' kid and my overbearing parents. She also knew something else-- that you've got to take care of yourself first.
This is something every parent knows. Every seat in the audience on graduation day is inhabited by a person who got where they are by taking action. They could not be adults if they let themselves get run over and whine to their boss or the President or whomever they perceive with control and power. Yet this is the way the shcool was run. STepping out of line-- regardless of cause or degree-- was punished. There is an equality to that. Commie nonsense. No wonder there is so much anger and violence.
Even being mostly non-violent, a Christian, someone tolerant to an extreme, if I had it to do over again, I would've lit into her with every ounce of my own. I'd still get in trouble, but I wouldn't have to deal with that bully again.
