I was 11.  Just 11.  Had grown up in a small, southern town where we knew everyone.  I was no different than the other kids.  Then, my family moved to the Midwest - life changed instantly.  I didn't know I had an "accent"; didn't know I was "fat", "ugly" - but, apparently I was.  The 3 neighbor boys made sure I was reminded every day.  They would yell names at me  when I was inside the house....suffice to say, life was almost unbearable.  Almost..but I survived.  The next time we moved, to the East Coast, I was determined to be me, to be accepted for who I was, regardless.   I learned the importance of tolerance....understanding that being different doesn't mean being less. Over 50 years later, I am strong in my self....teach others that they are also.