I have been wanting to write this for a week now, but being sick I was unable to until today. The reason I became inspired to write this was because of a newscast that I heard. Graduations were happening all over the states and here locally. I was listening to the news and heard a reporter say, "Local teens want to remember student who killed himself at graduation with an empty chair, their principal won't allow it for fear it will upset the bullies who led him to commit suicide." Yes that is what I heard, at the time it created such an anger in me that I sat and spewed obscenities at the t.v. "Fuck those bullies, were they thinking of this kid or his parents when they were taunting him? Fuck them I hope they all suffer!" My daughter asked me what I was talking about and I told her and she said "Wow!" which is her way of saying "HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT!" As you can see it still creates such a reaction in me that I cannot think of any other way to channel this but to blog about it!
When society places concern for a bully above the memory of a victim and the feeling of the victims family there is a serious problem. Don't get all crazy on me, I have heard of the young man accused of bullying who took his life too, and I have every sympathy for that family as well. A good upstanding family. What created this need to bully in their child, what creates it in any child? Why is it so prevalent today? I only believe it is more noticeable today, and that it is only recently that it has garnered a spotlight because of its inundation on social media. I was bullied way before Facebook and Myspace, way before youtube.com and way before 4g technology on phones enabled recording of fights.
This is a list of reasons that I have come up with that I was bullied continuously from my earliest memory of bullying to my last. I was bullied as early as 3rd grade when I cut my hair short got called everything from a beetle to a boy how original....here are the rest.....
1. hair cut short
2. being smart, being teachers pet
3. being liked by boys
4. having breasts develop before others
5. being a "whitewashed mexican"
6. thinking I was "too good"
7. not being thin enough
8. having an ass that boys looked at
9. being shy
10. not fitting in
11. being gossiped about as being sexually active when I was not
12. not fighting back
13. being pretty
14. being ugly
15. accused of being gay
16. having a locker next to a cheerleader
17. for being me.....
I actually cried as I wrote this because peoples bullying of me has had a profound effect on my life, it created a lot of doubt in a frail developing person. I began to hate myself and to not want to exist. I withdrew emotionally and stopped attending school because it was a nightmare to go to everyday. I know that a lot of people that knew me back then had no clue at the time that I was so distraught, I hid it very well, by being rebellious and covering my pain up with humor. My parents had no clue, all they knew was that I went from this smart bright kid to someone they did not recognize in a period of 5 years. The most crucial years from seventh grade to senior year. I hate that part of my life and the power I let others have over me.
In high school believe it or not I wore a smocked blouse to school at orientation, and I was gossiped about as being pregnant I was also bullied by boys who probably had a crush on me... I just didn't know it. It was also during this period that a girl whose initials were LB and was a year under me bullied me the most next to my other bully who I will talk about next. LB had a locker near mine and she made sure to stand in my way daily, sidling up to her boyfriend in typical socie, cheerleader fashion. She would not move and when I would ask her she would mutter things under her breath and call me things like fat, ugly, loser....this went on for the whole year, at the end of the year she took a picture of me, that she had access to because she was on the yearbook staff I believe, if she wasn't a friend of hers was. She photocopied it and posted it on the entrance of the language arts building with the words LOST, implying that I was a dog..luckily someone took it down before I saw it. I still get upset that I did not beat the shit out of her to this day! Because if I could go back in time and beat the HOLY shit out of her I would, terrible I know my teenage self still hates her! Really I feel sorry for her because she had issues of her own obviously.
My last experience with a bully in which I took control, came after several years of torture from a supposed cousin, who called me a bitch daily, people, daily! From seventh grade all the way to junior year! I guess she thought I was trying to be too much of a chola encroaching on her little clique or whatever, I did try to fit in with the little homie element but thank God I got over that really quick! They considered me too whitewashed, too good. Which looking back on it now is laughable! Finally one day passing through the narrow Biology hall, she whispered "bitch" into my ear, I stopped and said "look if I am such a bitch then do something about it!Now... oh that's right your little friends aren't here to back you up.... so will you please leave me the fuck alone!" I don't know where that Krisann came from, but pretty much from that day on I claimed my power over my bullies. It was freeing and empowering. I still had problems with depression but never acted on thoughts of suicide. I was lucky.
Today the shift in bullying takes on a sexual aspect and that is very dangerous thing. Where girls like myself may be bullied for their supposed sexual activity, kids today are bullied for their sexual identity. If you present as too feminine, or too butch you are a target. Looking back at all of the people I grew up with there is not one that I can say I did not know they were either gay or lesbian. You knew...it was unspoken. It was never threatening to me though because their sexuality didn't really matter to me they were first and foremost my friends. Now that I am a parent I listen to my kids and their experiences and I thank God he prepared me to handle bullying. They have been bullied about their race and sexuality. They've been called faggot or dike. They are all girls by the way.... I would not care if they came up to me and said,"Mom I am gay..", it'd be like telling me they want gravy on their potatoes, I'd say "ok." If they told me they were suicidal then it would be a big deal and I would be the light they needed to make it through the darkness, after all isn't that what a parent is supposed to do?
Yesterday I took the pledge to stop bullying when I see it happening http://www.itgetsbetter.org/page/s/pledge/ I want to encourage you to do the same. To learn more about the pledge go to this link http://www.itgetsbetter.org/ and this link http://www.thetrevorproject.org/
Bullying is everybodies problem, you just don't realize it until it happens to you....
This is the first in a series of blogs dedicated to tolerance....
Showing posts with label self hate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self hate. Show all posts
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Friday, September 10, 2010
good hair..bad hair...freckles or tan are u defined by these as a woman of color?
I am 100% Mexican American. My love is 1/2 African American and 1/2 Chippewa, Native American for those that do not know what Chippewa is. The native name is Ojibwe. We have three beautiful daughters from our sometimes tumultuous and stormy union. None of them resemble the other and this was cause for a lot of unspoken side glances and whispered gossip among family and strangers alike. When I would go to the doctors office I would inevitably get glances and doubletakes and stares when I referred to my daughters as sisters. "Oh they are sisters?" was the common question I would get. "Yes they are sisters and before you ask, yes they have the same father," I would add. I knew that was the next question on these gossipy ghetto fab chicks minds sitting in the office with their babies. I always felt the need to explain my childrens heritage and ethnic makeup, I don't know why. Just seemed that once they knew there was a legitimate reason why my caramel colored, doe eyed doll and her dresden skinned, almond eyed sister were so different, their tone and stares stopped.
I will admit that I was quite nervous when I was pregnant with my first daughter. I had nightmares that she would some how inherit the "bad" hair I had heard about from my loves Aunts. I even had dreams that she would be this ebony skinned little baby that no one would believe was mine. My love is a nice caramel color in the summer and sometimes even lighter than me, a fair skinned Mexican. His hair had wavy curls, when he had hair that is. My Father even said I ended up with a Black man to spite him, so surely he would feel the same way about my baby. Oh but when she arrived her beautiful little face and coal black "good" hair made his heart melt and everyone elses. When my second daughter arrived she was this redskinned rat faced little baby with tiny little slits for eyes and golden tips on her light reddish brown hair. In a few weeks time she turned into this pre-dresden skinned little pink beauty. When I see them next to eachother now I think how beautiful they are. Each envying things in the other, my caramel girl has curly waves and my fair skinned porcelain doll has straight. She looked like a little china doll when she was little. Then there is my mini-me she is nothing that they are and she is every bit her mama.
I had asked my love when he was little was it hard for him growing up. He said he was called "zebra" and "white boy". He felt different and was treated as such by his Aunt's and Grandma's, at least that was his perception. Other people did not believe him when he told them who his mom was, people thought he was adopted. He said he felt reverse racism even in his own home with family talking about "white folks" and equally talking about "black folks" too. He said he did not fit in with the Blacks or the Whites and settled on being a class clown to get attention and fit in. He felt angry, confused, like he should not have been born. He learned to become a chameleon, observing other people to fit in, but in his neighborhood he was rejected in many ways. He says he was not "hood" enough, he did not speak in the street slang, but rather in a more respectful manner. He says he felt the need to "come up or down to the individuals level" more for their comfort than his own. When he went to jail for the first time he had to choose who to affiliate with, he chose his Indian heritage something he was told often as a young child, "your father is Indian and that makes you Indian". Associating with them was far less drama laden than claiming White or Black. Looking back on it now he feels that he learned to fit in in any situation and that maybe at the time it was hard on him but it has served him well in life. So I knew my daughters would have the same problems somewhere down the road.
There are little comments or remarks that are made and I hate that I get defensive about them. I will never forget being in the grocery store when my oldest was about 5 and my middle was about 3. She was sitting in a cart and kept looking at this black lady who had these long beautiful braids, staring at her every turn she made. Finally the lady made this remark "Actin' like they never seen a black person before!" and she started to stomp off and I said, "Thats funny because they are black and they see their Aunts and Grandmas all the time." She looked at me and I know she was seething... but I did add, "she's just never seen extensions." This was in the 90's pre Tyra and Beyonce extensions, braids were the common look. I secretly felt good inside HAH I told her! Once my oldest entered school she had a little bully who called her "blackie" keep in mind this Mexican child was darker than my daughter. Also keep in mind that I live in a town that though there are color lines it is not as backwoods as the next town over. We have a mix of nationalities. My little girl would come home in tears. So finally when she asked me why she was the color she was. I took a lesson from my Grandma Katie who called them chocolate and vanilla, I read a story called "Grandma Blue" to the class. Took some Neopolitan ice cream and took out a scoop of vanilla saying it was me, and then I took out the chocolate and strawberry saying this was her Dad. Then I mixed them and showed the kids the color and I asked is the ice cream still good? Of course they all said yes. I explained to them some of us might have more chocolate, or vanilla or strawberry and it shouldn't matter because we are all still the same. So that saying mean things to each other or calling someone names was just not nice. Then they all got ice cream and my daughter was the hit of the year. No more tears that year anyway.
I check the box that says "other" on paperwork for their race/ethnicity. I guess that being who they are sometimes can be the issue of the day and that will subside as they get older.I find it sad that my oldest daughter was not black enough to hang out with the black girls and my middle daughter oddly has more black friends. Personally I think my daughter was seen as a threat to all those black girls who hated her "good hair" and her "high yellow" skin. When they tell people their ethnicity they get puzzled looks and "no you are not!" as if being Black, Mexican, and Native American has a set skin tone. My youngest fits in with everyone anywhere, but that is because she is outgoing. So I find it strange that my straighthaired girl still flatirons her hair as much as my curly locked daughter. My freckle faced girl hates her freckles she who barely tans 1/2 a shade when in the sun all day. My oldest is tan all year round. My hair is more nappy than any of theirs! Oooh and girl my "kitchen" is a mess, (that is the nape hair on your head). Good hair, bad hair, bee stung lips, or just right lips, freckles, or tan.... these things don't define you. As a good friend says "I define me!" Embrace your uniqueness.
I will admit that I was quite nervous when I was pregnant with my first daughter. I had nightmares that she would some how inherit the "bad" hair I had heard about from my loves Aunts. I even had dreams that she would be this ebony skinned little baby that no one would believe was mine. My love is a nice caramel color in the summer and sometimes even lighter than me, a fair skinned Mexican. His hair had wavy curls, when he had hair that is. My Father even said I ended up with a Black man to spite him, so surely he would feel the same way about my baby. Oh but when she arrived her beautiful little face and coal black "good" hair made his heart melt and everyone elses. When my second daughter arrived she was this redskinned rat faced little baby with tiny little slits for eyes and golden tips on her light reddish brown hair. In a few weeks time she turned into this pre-dresden skinned little pink beauty. When I see them next to eachother now I think how beautiful they are. Each envying things in the other, my caramel girl has curly waves and my fair skinned porcelain doll has straight. She looked like a little china doll when she was little. Then there is my mini-me she is nothing that they are and she is every bit her mama.
I had asked my love when he was little was it hard for him growing up. He said he was called "zebra" and "white boy". He felt different and was treated as such by his Aunt's and Grandma's, at least that was his perception. Other people did not believe him when he told them who his mom was, people thought he was adopted. He said he felt reverse racism even in his own home with family talking about "white folks" and equally talking about "black folks" too. He said he did not fit in with the Blacks or the Whites and settled on being a class clown to get attention and fit in. He felt angry, confused, like he should not have been born. He learned to become a chameleon, observing other people to fit in, but in his neighborhood he was rejected in many ways. He says he was not "hood" enough, he did not speak in the street slang, but rather in a more respectful manner. He says he felt the need to "come up or down to the individuals level" more for their comfort than his own. When he went to jail for the first time he had to choose who to affiliate with, he chose his Indian heritage something he was told often as a young child, "your father is Indian and that makes you Indian". Associating with them was far less drama laden than claiming White or Black. Looking back on it now he feels that he learned to fit in in any situation and that maybe at the time it was hard on him but it has served him well in life. So I knew my daughters would have the same problems somewhere down the road.
I check the box that says "other" on paperwork for their race/ethnicity. I guess that being who they are sometimes can be the issue of the day and that will subside as they get older.I find it sad that my oldest daughter was not black enough to hang out with the black girls and my middle daughter oddly has more black friends. Personally I think my daughter was seen as a threat to all those black girls who hated her "good hair" and her "high yellow" skin. When they tell people their ethnicity they get puzzled looks and "no you are not!" as if being Black, Mexican, and Native American has a set skin tone. My youngest fits in with everyone anywhere, but that is because she is outgoing. So I find it strange that my straighthaired girl still flatirons her hair as much as my curly locked daughter. My freckle faced girl hates her freckles she who barely tans 1/2 a shade when in the sun all day. My oldest is tan all year round. My hair is more nappy than any of theirs! Oooh and girl my "kitchen" is a mess, (that is the nape hair on your head). Good hair, bad hair, bee stung lips, or just right lips, freckles, or tan.... these things don't define you. As a good friend says "I define me!" Embrace your uniqueness.
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