Middle school: those three years in our lives that we’ll always look back on thinking, “Oh god, I can’t believe I acted that way.” Middle school is a dangerous territory. As middle schoolers, our newfound title as “teenagers” is something we don’t fully understand yet. We hold onto this title thinking it gives us the right to act like we’re better than other people. Our maturity makes us realize that people are different in so many ways, but our lack of maturity makes us think that different is bad. Suddenly school is no longer the friendly playground; instead, it is a jungle in where the best claim themselves the kings. Conformity is the key and communism has reached a whole new level. I always remember middle school as three long years of trying to fit in, of buying the right clothes and talking the right way. I never stopped to think for myself or establish my character. Peer pressure pushed me into a corner where other people did the thinking for me. The funny part is that I wasn’t even that different. Sure my intelligence quotient was greater than most, but otherwise I was just like everybody else. I was so caught up in my own life that I never bothered to realize how difficult life must have been for other people; people who maybe didn’t have the money to buy the right clothes or who were awkwardly shy and inept at socializing. These people were the true victims of bullying. They were victims to the type of bullying where others pretended to be their friends just so they could tease and rag on them. These victims thought that they had found true friends, but in reality they were being used as a source of entertainment for the bullies. Even though the bullying never got to extreme levels, my biggest regret of my three years in middle school was not standing up to those tormentors who taunted the unfortunate kids. I knew that bullying was wrong and horrible and I refused to participate. However, by being a quiet bystander, I was committing just as big of a crime. Later in high school I learned about the impact that a single action can have in a chain of events; change starts with a small push. Maybe if I had stood up to those bullies, I might have saved someone’s life from misery. This regret is the only thing from middle school that I held on to, and because of it I will now never stand by and watch another poor unfortunate child become a victim to shameful bullying.