I am in elementary school, 3rd grade. The bell rings for recess. It is that time again. Time to go outside. I dread recess. I can feel that uneasy feeling in the gut of my stomach. That same feeling since the beginning of the school year. My friends’ group had changed this past year. Not quite sure why, but it did. There was always a change in circle of friends. Some either left for another school, another child entered, or there was a shift in who joined whose friends’ group.
This new school year, I was not claimed into my same friends’ group. As a result, I was claimed by another friends’ group. However, this friends’ group was different. I did not like this friends’ group. But I did not have another group or another friend that perhaps was also looking for another friends’ group. And I was not allowed to leave this group. I was told that I could not leave and if I said anything about what they were doing to me, the hitting would become worse. I felt stuck. I did not know what to do. I feared telling my parents because I felt like maybe that would place them into danger even though I knew my parents would side with me & protect me. But in my 3rd grader mind, I thought maybe if my friends’ group found out I told on them, they would make recess worse for me & also spill insults about my parents. I wanted to protect them too. I did not want my parents to feel or experience what I was experiencing. This was my thinking. If I could not protect myself, I could protect them at least.
My new friends’ group also said that the punishment was my fault. I was “too small,” “too quiet,” “too ugly,” “too many freckles,” “too stupid,” “too hated by others,” “too non-existent,” and a host of other words. I remember one girl approaching me after school saying, “God, you are ugly. Your face is ugly, your hair is ugly, your voice is ugly.” I remember looking deep into her eyes into that moment. Eyes that truly hated me for some reason & I did not know why. I did not even know her. I never talked with her. I quickly looked down. I did not know what to say. All I can remember is how I felt: shame. I felt so embarrassed. Other kids heard & saw. I did not expect them to come to my rescue. Why should they? I also had witnessed others become the targets of hurtful words & unwanted physical touch. But I was scared that if I said anything, I would be targeted again but only worse. It is amazing what you can remember in detail 30 plus years later. I wonder if this girl & my friends’ group ever remember these interactions the way that I do?
More than the physical pain, it was the words that hurt the most. It was also the words that kept me staying. I deeply wanted to be accepted. I wanted to show them that I could “take it;” to show that I was strong. I desired to belong to their group. Maybe then they would like me & the hurtful words & unwanted physical touches would stop. Ultimately, I just wanted it to stop & I wanted to live peacefully. I wanted the feelings that were raging in my gut to stop. I just wanted to get along with them so that it would just…..stop. Maybe if I treated them nicely & didn’t say anthing to make them mad, they would stop; they would start to say nice words to me & stop hurting me.
I remember one particular day when the teacher was out of the classroom & a friend from my friends’ group walked up to the front of the room & drew my face on the chalkboard in an exaggerated form. Everyone in the class laughed. She quickly erased it before the teacher returned. I never cried in front of my classmates. That would make it worse for me. That would confirm to them & myself that I truly am weak & a baby. I needed to show them & myself that I am strong; that I can handle it & that their words did not affect me. You know that saying, “Sticks & stones may break your bones but your words will never hurt me.” On the outside I need to make this true. They cannot get a reaction from me. But in the inside, my soul is dying. I believe their words. I will believe whatever they want me to believe, just please…stop.
The recess bell finishes ringing. I get up from my chair & walk slowly to my friend’s group towards our usual spot out in the far back of the field, near the trees where hardly anyone went. I am dreading again another recess. I prepare myself for the usual, stabbing words & unwanted physical hurting. I tell myself,
“It is not so bad. It could be worse. Just be strong. Prove to them that you are not weak. Prove to them that they cannot hurt you. You are almost done for the day. You can go home soon.”
I see them waiting for me as usual. I see them laughing at me. “Be strong Savannah. Just take it.” I walk up & say, “Hi guys!” as cheerfully as I could while trying to hold back the fear in my voice. They don’t say a word to me. They begin again the usual pushing, the words, the hitting, the pushing, the words, the hitting, the pushing, the words, the hitting, the pushing, the words, the hitting, the pushing….
Suddenly, something inside of me breaks. Something within me starts screaming for help. I cannot contain it. I try with all my strength to suppress the scream but it comes out with full force. I do not know what I am doing. It is like I have lost myself. I let out the loudest scream of my life. Wow, is it loud & it is long! I just…. keep….screaming…. I do not know what else to do! I do not know how else to make it stop! “It just won’t stop God! Why, why have you not made it stop?! Every feeling, every ounce of my voice is unleashed into a scream of desperation.
The one thing I will never forget at this moment are my friends’ faces. Their faces….. I am not sure who was shocked more: me or them. Their faces. I will never, ever forget their faces. Their faces spoke 1000 words. Their eyes bulging & wide in shock & horror. Theirs mouths open & quiet. It was as if my friends finally “saw” me for the first time. Like really, “saw” me. They finally heard my voice. And most importantly, they finally…..stopped.
And what did I finally see in them? I finally saw their horror & shock. I finally saw their fear. I finally saw their guilt. I finally saw their eyes seeing me. I finally saw them hearing me. Finally, something we both had in common: seeing my pain.
After finishing my scream & feeling like I had unleashed everything inside of me, I ran away. I ran away as fast as I could & I did not look back. I ran as fast as I could to the girls bathroom & locked the door in fear that maybe their faces of guilt & horror would change to retaliation.
But they did not chase me. They stopped. All I could think & feel was, “Finally, dear God thank you, they stopped!” I wept in that bathroom stall as I had never wept before.
They never spoke to me or hurt me for the rest of my school year…