The Part of Me I Can't Forget

For me, bullying started in first grade.  I was born in San Antonio, Texas and then moved even farther south in Texas towards the Rio Grande Valley.  I started in public school and and 1st graders were cruel then; fights in the classroom, name-calling, etc. So my dad is an Episcopal priest (don't freak out Episcopal priests are just a denomination of Christianity and it is a denomination where the priest can marry a man or women) and the church he was serving at had a school so I transferred to this small Christian private school and was accepted into this family. However, sometimes families get into fights.

I made tons of friends at St. Matthew's, teachers, staff, and students, but not everyone liked me.  A heavy kid, Justin, was bullied by others and he would take out his anger on me because I was not as heavy as he was but I was still a chubby kid.  It took nearly 5 years to resolve the feud when we hit graduation year at 6th grade. Also in third grade, a group of older boys would bully some of the younger guys and me.  Most of us younger guys were pretty scared then, but I wasn't- I fought back.  They would always sit at this one table at lunch and to show them they did not own us, I convinced my friends that we were going to sit down and eat at "their" table before they got to lunch one day.  When they found we had sat down at their table they told us to get up and move.  My friends were scared but I wasn't so I told them no, there are other places to sit. That didn't sit well with them so they took my food and threw it on the ground and so I did the same to one of their lunches, and then another grabbed one of my best friends and threw him out of his chair.  I was so furious I got about and right when I was about to hit him, a teacher came and told the older boys to cut it out and leave.  I thanked the teacher for stopping me and I helped my friend up.  We had similar problems with them before and even a little bit afterwards.  They would beat me up and say things like, "I thought a preachers kid would do what his dad taught others." I would then say in response, "My dad doesn't teach people to comply with bullies' demands." I even had a tennis ball thrown at my face which gave me a black eye.  The main bully Joshua, who threw the ball, said it was an accident but I knew it wasn't.  Somehow after they graduated and moved on I was able to forgive some of them and be friends with them, but others I couldn't and they wouldn't either. 

After those boys graduated a new kid came into my class.  A new kid is rare in that school and we were all excited to meet him, but I soon regretted it meeting Sam.  He would make fun of me for being chubby and do the same to that Justin kid I told you about earlier.  He would never get physical and hurt people but it was always the emotion.  He would even make fun of me for having fun with my friends for laughing even.  The worst part about it is that I had friends that didn't notice that part about him and liked him as a friend.    I would never say anything hurtful back to him, I would either ignore it or tell him to cut it out or get a teacher.  I did however reach a breaking point three times. 1. He called me a fatty that needs to get a life and I went up to him, knowing I am bigger than him and mostly everyone I know (I'm 6' 2" now and I was 5' 4" then and he was 4' 6") and I pushed him and then hit him in the face. 2. He made fun of me for having a good time and laughing so I kicked him in the leg. 3. I was minding my own business playing soccer, he was playing too, but he said stop trying and just go be goalie with your fat self and he tripped me while stealing the ball.  I later picked up the ball and threw it at his face. 

The bad part about being bullied at St. Matthew's was that there was no point in telling an adult.  I tried several times telling an adult and they would not listen to me, or they would nod and give me that same plastic smile and say okay i'll see if i can do something about that but they couldn't.  My dad might have been the headmaster at the school but the principal handled students and their behavior.  It was extremely hard for me at that time because my mom is an alcoholic and it was that time were she would do heavy consistent drinking.  She would disappear sometimes and later she went to a treatment center for a month or longer.  She is doing well now but I am a huge mama's boy and i missed her a lot during that time.  There was one principal that didn't understand me and always said to me that kids are kids and their will be conflicts but its just life so you just need to shake on it and move on, but that is not how it works.  Just like that one scene in the movie Bully, if we were both to shake hands in front of the principal, neither one of us would mean it and it would just continue and get worse when the principal thought things were okay.  We later got a new principal and when I would loose my mind she would understand, but my teacher wouldn't.  My sixth grade teacher thought I was the bully sometimes.  She told me she couldn't justify in her mind why anyone would react harshly to harsh words being said.  The problem was that she wasn't me.  She can't justify my mind; only I can do that.  Like the Sheriff in the Bully movie who was handling ja'maya's case, he said he couldn't justify why anyone would threaten someone with a gun no matter what kind of emotional words are being said, unless they are physically being threatened.  He was not her and he had no right to say that, just like a government should not be able to dictate who can and who can't be married to the person they love, or what a woman does or doesn't do to her body.  


I moved from south Texas all the way to Wichita, KS.  My dad was called to serve at a different church and that meant I had to move.  I was sad to move away from all my friends and a place I practically grew up, but I was ready for a new beginning.  I started in a public school for 7th grade and boy did my wold change.  I didn't realize how divers the world can be.  In South Texas, I only knew the Hispanic culture and their traditions and cultures and values and beliefs along with some white folk but also the Texas country way.  In Wichita I did not only get that, I found many more white people and suburban culture, but also the Asian and African American culture, but also how careless and cruel kids can be.  It took me a while to make friends but I did and I got into the Gifted program.  I saw bullying happen and I would stick up for the victims but I forgot about how it feels to be the victim.  

The start of my eighth grade year we move into a new house in Wichita and my parents force me to go to a new school, which I did not want to do all over again after we moved to Wichita, plus 8th graders are not that concerned with new kids since its the last year and they have practically grown up in middle school together.  My parents thought it would be good for me and no matter how much I tried they made me go. Teachers placed me in pre-IB education with the best of the best kids.  The best of the best kids were not so great as I came to learn.  Most didn't like me and they singled me out a lot.  I was friends with one other kid who was new like me, and their were a few other people that might have been my friends, but I didn't trust them.  The bullies would single me out and exclude me from things.  They would say hi Trevor with a fake smile on their face as if they were about to bust out laughing any second and go "JUST KIDDING!" Then they started to call me gay and a loner and one kid told me a needed to die my hair black and cut myself.  I would walk home and cry and when my parents asked how my day was. I would never say good like I used to, I wouldn't say bad either because I didn't want them to worry, but I would say it was okay or tell them it was a day.  They usually didn't know I was sad or I was crying and I thought it was obvious and they didn't care. But one night when I didn't want to eat dinner and I couldn't focus on homework, they knew something was wrong.  They let me take a "mental health day" that next day. So I slept in till 10 in the morning.  I told them everything, and I could tell they were upset.  ON my birthday they told me my gift was that They were letting me transfer back to Coleman, the school I went to when I first moved to Wichita.  I was so excited I cried.  My parents cried too and they said we just wanted our son back.  I learned this later but when I took my mental health day, our house was TP-ed most likely by the bullies.  My parents cleaned it up before I woke up so it wouldn't make me worse.  I also know it was the bullies because I told one of my friends about it and they were friends with a friend of the bullies and that friend told my friend that her friends were gonna TP this tall, gay, blonde kid's house.  The bullies know I know what they did because I transferred schools and I have run into them a few times and when they ask why I left, I say, "Why do you think?" and they walk away. 

Know I am still being called gay.  If you just look at my profile pictures you might judge me based off of my clothing and think I am gay, but that's because I am metrosexual. I just like the stereotypical way a gay man would dress so I do and I don't care what people think about how I look or act.  Some of my friends think I am gay but they won't admit it.  I shouldn't have to explain why I dress or act a certain way.  A gay person shouldn't have to explain why they are gay because THEY JUST ARE. Like Lady Gaga said, "Baby you were born this way." 

I have a friend who was and is bullied and she has tried to kill herself two times and she spent time in a mental hospital.  She is bisexual and dating a girl.  She is stand-offish and doesn't talk as much as she used to.  I posted a Facebook status one night about how I believe in standing up against and bullying and for those faced by it and for the gay people and the struggling people etc that face it all the time. And this girl messages me  saying "you save my life with that status because I was planning on killing myself that night but when I got on facebook for what I thought was the last time I saw your post and I thank you for that." I have since helped her with coming out to her mom and dad about being bisexual and dating a girl.... I am her friend.  

I could go on and on about my story and others and how bullying sucks and it needs to stop.  But my story isn't over and I will add on to this part of me i can't forget.  I know their are people that have experienced worse than I, but I am one story, one chapter, one victim, one upstander. Bully changed me in a way.  I know I need to help put an end to this.  I need to survive and help others to do the same.

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