Why Are You So Short? | Teen Ink

Why Are You So Short?

April 21, 2017
By Glink BRONZE, Defiance, Ohio
Glink BRONZE, Defiance, Ohio
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

He picked me up when everyone pushed me further down than I already was. 


I attended the second new school in two years and did not know anyone in the entire building, besides my two brothers. On top of that I was the shortest kid in the grade level.  This was second grade, basically the time when bullying gets called name-calling and the playground is a warzone.  I remained nervous and didn’t have anyone to turn to.  I shambled up to the rough clay brick colored school on the coarse concrete course and put my hands on the cold brass door handles and pushed hard and confident, walking straight to class.  This school was different than most.  Instead of going straight to class, I had to wait for the bell to ring in the hallway then go to class.  I thought that I had to go straight to class, but something interrupted my straightforward approach when someone yelled, “Hey, you’re supposed to wait for the bell!”


I quietly replied, “ Oh, I’m sorry I’m new I don’t know what to do.”


He responded, “All right you just wait out here for the bell to ring.  Then you go in to class.  Feel free to talk to the other kids.”


“Okay, I’ll try.”


I then started to mingle with other kids I assumed went to my class because they stood near the door to our room. I walked over to the tan brick wall and began talking to the other kids.  We talked about random topics, like what kinds of crayon boxes we had.  Back then all that was needed for popularity was the 64 packs of crayons with the built in sharpener. 


The dreaded sound of the bell rang, thundering through the cold dead halls like thunder during a storm, but the sound of my heart exploding in my chest to the beat of the bell was much louder as I slowly wandered into class.  I walked into class and smelled the Lysol-scented room.  I saw the leaf green clean chalkboard.  The teacher proceeded to introduce herself.  She remembered that she needed to introduce the fresh students, which I just so happened to reside in that camp.  Again my heart started to pound in my chest as I sauntered to the front of the class.


“Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?” she asked.


I nodded slowly “Hi my name’s Gavin,” I responded


Murmuring and snickering echoed throughout the class as I introduced myself.   Class continued slowly as always, like a slug moving across a field, but soon just like the slug we made it to the end.  The kids were then permitted to talk to each other.  Singling me out, the inexperienced kid, they proceeded to say rude comments like “Why are you so short?” “Are you in the wrong grade?” “How’s the weather down there?”  My face turned tomato red, and tears welled in my eyes--tears of anger and sadness.  I wanted to go home and jump into bed.
Luckily, one good soul inhabited that class who stood up the others and told them to stop picking on me.  Logan, the boy’s name, picked me up and made me feel tall, which was ironic, and he was a taller kid like a giant. 

 

Unfortunately, he mistakenly received the punishment for picking on the brand-new kid, not any of the other kids who picked on me.  We became best friends from that day forward.



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