My Side | Teen Ink

My Side

January 9, 2018
By 22strebel BRONZE, Durham, North Carolina
22strebel BRONZE, Durham, North Carolina
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I know I’m not the nicest person in this grade. Ask anyone. I have had my fair share of spreading mean looks and talking about others. I admit it i'm not all nice. No one is. Not a single person reading this can say that they have never said anything mean. And honestly I don't regret half the stuff I have said, which makes me sound like a horrible person, but it just makes me a normal person not a fake robot spitting out only kind ideas and thoughts. And no one is that perfect robot. Not me, not you, not anyone. So no i'm not the nicest. But trust me I'm nowhere near being the meanest. I'm not actually mean, but considering the things I've heard said about me, I could be mean. And no matter what the school board may think, I'm not a bully. I don't get it. I’m nice to people who arent my close group of friends. Like that time at camp. I have my friends at camp. I like to hang out with my friends at camp. But I saw a girl all alone, she had no one to hang out with. I couldn't imagine camp without friends. So I talked to her. Just started a conversation. It was a simple act. An easy act. But one that shows what kind of person I am. I'm the kind of person to talk to anyone and to try to do the right thing. I care about my grades and teachers. I try hard to stay calm and to not lash out at people. Why are teachers and staff talking and telling people, other staff members, and parents of friends and not friends that my group of friends is “mean”?


One day I was sitting with Talbot, just doing nothing at all. Maybe there was music playing, knowing it was me and Talbot it was probably some One Direction, but I don't know. Maybe we were talking to someone on snapchat, but I can't remember. Then she spoke. Three words. “Jillian guess what”. Three simple words. Words that have brought me to hear gossip, secrets, joy, pain, disappointment, and embarrassment. In this case, these three words would take me to hear something that would drag me to sadness and disbelief. And then Talbot told me. Told me that the school had told her parents that we are the “meanest group of girls in a long time.” Can you believe that? I mean honestly. Not only were me and Talbot sad, we were angry. Angry the school was saying these things. Angry because it wasn't true. Last year people hated me. What did I ever do to them? Last year people tried to PAY to insult me. It wasn't too insulting because it didn't work. Here's the thing. These people can say what they want. Do what they want. Give mean looks when they want. And they will keep doing it. Because I don't care. Because the opinions of them are invalid to me. And the thing is, this annoys them even more. They want me to yell, to get mad, to fight back, to make a big deal, to care. They want me to care. They want to hurt me. For sometime I focused on the things they said, but then I remembered all the things my friends have said. My REAL friends. Why should I focus on the insults thrown by people intended to hurt me rather than the compliments my friends have given me made to levitate me on a cloud of confidence and care. But why why why should I be accused of being mean. What does my school know about me and my friends to be able to confidently say this. The school doesn't care enough to hear our side of the story, and frankly I don't think I would be comfortable telling the school our side. What is my side? My side is the side of a girl who’s heard terrible things about her but stands strong. My side is a group of friends who go out of their way to be nice because they have been stereotyped as mean. My side is a group of best friends who bring each other up despite the false rumors they have heard. My side is a group of girls who care so little about the negative opinions of others. My side is confidence and overcoming hatred. And my side was ruined when the school told me that all this stuff I've believe is fake. That all the nice things my friends have told me didn't happen because they are “mean”. That all we do for other people is fake because we are “mean”. That parents, adults, grown ups, call us mean without even knowing how kind and uplifting we are. We aren't mean. We’re not mean because we aren't friends with their kids. We aren't mean for not wanting to be friends with the kind of people who can insult behind our backs and to our faces. We aren't mean, just watch us around campus. Watch how we talk to everyone. Watch how we compliment people who pass by, people we don't even know. Just watch. Watch and learn how wrong the assumptions are.


The author's comments:

This is a piece about me and my friends and our side of the story.


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