Fourth grade was one of the worst years of my life. Oh, the teacher was nice and all, but that wasn't what I was worried about. Picture a group of fetal cats, bratty and insecure. The posse of narcissists was what greeted me each morning as I walked into class. They were the popular, the sophisticated, the oh-so-chic. Looking back, they may have not been much, but boy, they could make life a living nightmare. They were the furthest from mature, but secure in the delusion of popularity, they did as they pleased. The teacher never even batted an eye.


I took stock of the situation from the safe recess of my mind. The jeering laughter pierced through my startled consciousness. This was not the first time it's happened; it was the ol'chair-pull trick. Ninth of September, I had been walking back to my desk with a freshly filled water bottle. Not paying much attention, I did not notice the way people were looking at me; eyes expectant. I had turned to sit down when the chair was pulled out from under me. And from there, it only snowballed. They started a game, refusing to come in contact with any who were overweight. They claimed they would get germs; as if we were somehow dirtier, less worthy. Called us fat as they watched us eat, spit at us when they ran past us. They were truly despicable.


One sunny day in March, I had finally had enough. We were doing a group project, but none would come within arm's reach. Then she walked in, Jade. Petty, cheap, and fully of irk and envy. She was revered and feared in equal measures; the queen of our little class of twenty-five. Strolling past, she gave me a disdainful bat of her eye. She declared the table hers and commanded us to leave. Something inside of me snapped, I could not put up with the self-entitlement anymore. With steely determination. I marched up to her and told her exactly how I felt. That she could not boss us around and treat us as lesser beings. We were human too, and we deserved some measure of respect and courtesy. The whole class was silent at the end of my tirade. No one dared to speak or react. No one wanted her wrath upon them as well.



As momentous as that was, Jade did not appear to be bothered in the slightest, but a flicker of unease appeared under her mask of indifference. As if we were no more annoying than a couple of flies, she turned and walked away. I could not help but feel a small sense of victory, pride and a small fear of the requital that was sure to follow. Surprisingly, none came. The teasing and taunting escalated for a few days following the incident, but died away soon after. Maybe by speaking out, I had actually taught them something; that no matter our appearance, we were all the same. We all had feelings, thoughts, and emotions. It was not right to ignore that on a quest for popularity and social acceptance. In the end, we are all trying to live life to the best of our abilities. Thus one should treat others as one would like others to treat oneself.