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The Gertie Page


What Readers Say About PGS:
"I'm very glad you do this… However, I must admit that looking at your site is a little like picking at a scab.
No—more like stabbing at an old scar or playing baseball with a phantom limb but actually hitting with the stump."
—H.B.
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Letters

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In the 7th grade, I was "rewarded" for my math skills by being placed in an 8th grade class. Not being very popular in my own grade, I was very happy when an "older" girl I was sitting across from started talking to me. I didn't understand everything she was saying, but trying to be polite, I nodded and smiled at the appropriate times. This went on for about 3 minutes until... "What the hell are you looking at FREAK!" It was then I realized she had actually been talking to her friend behind me, and that I had been nodding and smiling to myself incoherantly about nothing for 3 minutes.
—John


…I was either 14 or 15 at the time. One day in english one of the popular girls was misbehaving and as punishment [my teacher] Mrs Martin told her she had to sit next to me. When another student laughed Mrs Martin asked him why, he responded "Because Jeremy's a dick." She replied "Perhaps you would like to sit by him"
—Jeremy


From about 4th grade to 7th grade the only shoes I would wear were cowboy boots. In 7th grade we had a new classmate who had a physical disability that caused her to walk with a limp—I think her plan was to become top bully before anyone could make her the victim. Her favorite activity was to make fun of my boots.


At first I didn't even catch on...


"Liz, do you know how to ride a horse?"
"No, why?"


It got so bad that I decided to get new shoes, regular black sneakers. Then they couldn’t make fun of me, right? Wrong. As soon as she saw them she asked where my boots went. At the time we were outside and she was in a wheelchair at the top of the hill. I wanted to kick her down the hill. Instead, I went home and cried.
—Elizabeth H.


On the first day of junior high, we were paired up and assigned wall lockers. The student who was paired with me was obviously a popular jock and I figured he wouldn't let me keep my stuff in "his" wall locker, so I just carried all my books around in my bag.


During lunch and gym, however, I didn't want it to be obvious that I didn't have a wall locker. I asked a janitor if I could put my bag in a storage closet, and he kindly agreed.


Some kids must have noticed me putting my stuff in the closet every day, because one day I went back to the closet to find my bag missing.


All of my books and papers were torn up and spread throughout the halls of the school. I was scolded by my mother for losing all of it.
- Daniel


It’s been a while since you’ve posted any new strips, but I thought I’d submit for the hell of it. I’m fairly young (a college student, if you didn’t guess from my email address) and I’d like to think I’m mostly past my awkward phase, but it was pretty rough for a while there, especially 6th grade. I was a pimply, frizzy-haired eleven year old who’s best and only friend was a selective mute (pretty cool when she was at home, almost completely silent at school). Naturally, I identify with a lot of the stories on your site. It’s cathartic in a way to talk about it all, the mocking, the bizarre ways we made things harder on ourselves, etc, even more so when you can look back and actually laugh. So in that spirit, here's memorable incident from my past:

 

In the spring of 6th grade, I got sick with a very bad stomach virus. Within 48 hours I was so dehydrated that my mother had to take me to the hospital. I was given water and anti-nausea medicine through an IV and by the next day I was well enough to go to school. In class, my teacher asked if I had been sick, and I said yes, thinking I could talk about the IV and it would seem very exciting. Before I had the chance the girl who always tortured me the most (and sat a couple of seats down) said “No you didn’t! You stayed home because you don’t have any friends.” I didn’t know what to say so I froze and the teacher spoke for me saying “That’s not true.” “Yes it is,” the girl said back, “Nobody likes her.” All I could think was, “This isn’t fair. I had to go to the HOSPITAL last night!”

—Anna W.


The summer before fifth grade, my family moved to a new state. The apartment complex we moved into had a pool and I spent the entire summer in it, turning my practically white hair a dull shade of lime green. My mother tried every remedy she could think of to get it out before I started school that fall, including scrubbing my scalp with liquid Tide, but nothing helped. On the first day of school, this other new kid with severely chapped lips and a serious rattail called me Swamp Thing, and I bore the nickname until I entered junior high a year later.

—T.R.


I was a real smart kid. Straight A's and all that. I was always in the accelerated classes. My family moved around alot. When I got to junior high, my parents divorced and the moving stopped. My mother was raising myself and my 2 brothers by working at a convenience store. We didnt have much money. For some reason, only the rich kids were in the accelerated classes. They made fun of me constantly cause I didnt have nice clothes. They liked to put stickers on my back. I dont know how they managed to do it. The one I remember was "My girdle is killing me". Everybody kept asking me "is it really?". I had no idea what they were talking about till I got home and found the sticker on the back of my shirt.

 

Just to get away from them, I quit doing my homework and got kicked out of the accelerated classes and put in with the other poor kids. My parents and the school counselors didnt even seem to notice. I made some new friends. I got heavily into drugs by high school and barely graduated.

—Harry F.


When I was in tenth grade, I fell madly in love the student assistant in my history class. I was too shy to talk to her, but, on the last day, I summoned my courage and approached her. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I asked her if I could borrow a pencil. She looked at me strangely, but obliged. I looked back at my desk and realized that I had several pencils in plain view (she worked at a table right across from me). I still have the pencil to this day, as I was too scared to return it. If it would make the strip funnier, I had long hair and wore Pink Floyd shirts every day, even though I didn't smoke pot and was in 'advanced' classes.
I really like your strip. It's good to know I'm not alone. Thanks for reading.

—Greg E.


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