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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