I must have been bullied in some way at Hathaway Elementary, but nothing that I can recall. The major bullying in my life really didn't begin until 2nd and 3rd grade when I attended Mt. Pleasant Elementary School. Being a parent now, I don't understand why a parent would purchase a home with children still growing up in the school system that was smack dab next door to housing projects. Not just one, but many. Sorry if you grew up in them, or if you still live in them. A lot of people that live in them are nice people that simply down on their luck. However when you have a choice and the means to chose elsewhere and you are purchasing a home to raise your children, I would think that in most cases people would choose a better area. Good financial choice? Maybe. Good choice for the family? Um... NO!
Maybe it was just a thing where I was getting older and so therefore at the same time becoming more aware of my surroundings and around more diverse individuals. Then again maybe not.
My first day of school and I was already introduced to gangs. I'm not kidding. Second grade and I was already approached with "Who's gang are you in?" and "Who's gang do you want to be in?" I was told by certain "gang leaders" in the class who would be my boyfriend. One of the boy gang leaders was Tyson, who for some reason liked me. His sister Tanya was the leader of the girl gang. These "gangs" didn't do much but boss everyone around. I just went with the flow and so nothing really happened with them. I was Tyson's girlfriend for a little while. Yes, a girlfriend already in second grade. I don't know where the teachers were at because I remember him laying on top of me at recess. Not that anything happened - but at school recess at any grade there should be no contact of any kind. My opinion, a 7 or 8 year old boy has no business being on a female class mate. Come on people!
I know you'll be surprised to hear that eventually things didn't work out between Tyson and I. It probably lasted all but an entire week. Soon a new boy joined our class. His name was Albert and he of course joined in to Tyson's gang. Albert mentioned a liking to me and so by the rules of the gang as set forth by Tyson I became Albert's girlfriend. He was tall and had short brown hair. He was not at all attractive. He came over my house to visit me and we talked in my driveway. Albert tried to impress me with a gift he stole for me from the near by flea market. It was a necklace. I couldn't even accepted the gift. For one thing, I didn't want to accept a gift from him, but even more importantly I couldn't accept stolen goods as a present. I explained that to him. Hopefully that taught him that thievery wasn't the answer.
One recess it was decided by the powers that be (aka Tyson) that Albert and I must become married. Tyson of course was the preacher who lead us in performing our sacred vows. It was pretty organized wedding for second grade recess. I walked up the school steps with my dandelion bouquet to the top of the porch where Albert and other classmates, hmm I mean wedding guests were waiting. The ceremony was conducted and we were pronounced man and wife. I really wasn't comfortable with the entire idea but seeing as how I really had little choice in the matter I went along with it anyway. I did think the game of playing wedding was pretty fun, I did not enjoy the company of Mr. Albert very much, that was a pretty big problem. Especially now that he was my husband and all. I didn't even want him to be my boyfriend and now he was to be my husband. It was pretty stressful. Eventually the marriage between Albert and I ended up in divorce. I guess that is what happens when you get married at 8 years old listening to who your peers think you should be with. Live and learn.
I had made a couple of friends with girls in my class who also lived in the projects next door to our house. We'll talk about Kelly first. She seemed so nice when I first met her. It was exciting to finally meet a new friend in the neighborhood to play with. She was a cute tiny blond girl. She lived in a unit on the end. I remember playing with her at her apartment. I don't remember too many details about her apartment except that it was really dark and they used one of those old wooden things that look like large spools as a table. We didn't spend too much time up there, we used to play downstairs. The basement had a caged area for storage and then another large area which is where we'd play. I'm sad to say that Kelly was the first person I learned anything about sex from. She didn't know much, but definitely knew a lot more than I did. Let me remind you that this was still in the second grade. She had pretend boyfriends and she would play and pretend to be doing these adult sexual acts with her pretend boyfriend. It was her way of pretending to be grown up. Some kids know how to play house, other kids know how to play "let's go on a date." It gets worse but I'll stop at that for now. I will sadly admit that I did play along with some of these games.
Be careful single parents what you do. There are little eyes are open wide and they're watching everything you do. You are their role model, you are all they've got. Be careful all you parents what you let your children see. Be careful!
Shalonda. Shalonda. Shalonda. She was my other so called friend. Truthfully she was nothing but a bully. I had this really weird toy named Cutely. It was a strange yellow thing with long yellow hair that went down it's entire back. Mrs. White bought it for me while I was visiting with Marie White. I really loved that silly toy. When over my house to play one day, I guess Shalonda decided that she liked it too. After that day Shalonda hand one and I had none. Hmmm, I wonder where mine went?
Another day my father had let me go outside to play but told me to stay close to the house. "Don't go any further than one block away," he said. I normally stayed about that close anyway. I went off to play with my dear friend Shalonda who new I was supposed to stay close to home. I explained to her that I had to be able to hear my Dad call me in. We stayed close at first but then started to go out further and further. I was pretty distracted by whatever game we were playing. I don't even remember everywhere we went. Suddenly I remembered as we were going over a hill to our next destination that I was supposed to stay close to home. I stopped in a panic and I told Sholanda that I needed to get back home right away to make sure my Dad didn't try to call for me yet. I needed her to help me get home because I had been following her in our game and I wasn't exactly sure I new how to get back. She refused to help me get back home. I thought I'd just try to find my own way home and that's when she threatened me, "If you don't come along with me and finish our game, then I'll tell your Dad on you that you came all the way out here with me." I knew if she told him, I'd get in trouble weather he had already called for me or not. I thought about just trying to go home, but I really didn't want to get in trouble. I made a bad choice and continued on with her if she promised we'd be really quick. She kept me out until the very last minute. Every time I'd remind her that I had to go home, she'd reply "I'll tell!" So I'd continue on with her and her game. I was so thankful to finally head home where sure enough my dad was waiting for me. My thankfulness to become home quickly faded and fear struck over me. I new I was in for it. I love my dad, but he sure didn't give a moment to listen before rushing in on me on how wrong I was. "I thought I told you to stay close to home!" I got a terrible spanking and was sent to my room for the night. I know I was wrong, and I did deserve the spanking. However chastising does nothing without words of correction. A child should be allowed to explain their case, then the parent should explain the rules that were broken and why the child is being punished. I am not sure what lesson that spanking taught me. Discipline needs to be done in a way that is constructive and not destructive. That's all I have to say about that.
Another day I was walking home from school and Shalonda had a very large group of friends with her. She was smoking a cigarette which I just didn't understand. I still don't know what business a second grader has smoking cigarettes. Shalonda started shouting out to me. At first I couldn't make out what she was saying, but by the tones I quickly figured I didn't want to know. I tried to pick up my pace but I still felt them following. I could hear the thumps of their footsteps getting closer. I heard their voices become louder and louder, but I didn't want to turn around to look at them. Instead of running to show my fear I tried to just walk faster and faster. My heart was racing. My palms were sweaty. I felt the hair on the back of my neck starting to rise. Shalonda and her friends eventually caught up to me. She said she wanted to talk to me. The dialogue is a blur but I can't forget the use of profanity. I was surprised to hear her talk like that. She started zipping up my coat front as high as it would go and tightening it around my neck. She held the top of it with her two hands as she spoke to me. She then blew smoke in my face. I knew she wanted to fight. When she released her grip on my I decided to run and not look back. My eyes welled in tears and I ran and ran as fast as my little legs would go. I tried to make it over our front yard fence but couldn't make it through. Shalonda and her friends had caught me. I remember screaming and crying holding on to the fence while Shalonda just kept ripping, grabbing, pulling, and yanking on my hair. I screamed as loud as I could. Crying out hoping that someone would come out and help me. I was so close to home, someone has to hear me. Finally my mother came out yelling, "What is going on here?" She was followed by my grandmother who was also yelling, "My goodness Rachel what are you screaming like that for?" There wasn't an ounce of pity in that woman. My mother yelled and the kids ran off. At that moment of relief the tears started to flow and I began to cry hysterically. Like confetti strings on the street in times square after the new years eve celebration, strands and wads of hair covered our front lawn blowing in the wind like tumble weeds.
My mother helped me inside. Like the paparazzi my family was there at the door and everyone was asking what had happened. She took me to the bathroom and washed my face. The commotion had just begun. Everyone looking at me, trying to figure out what had happened. My grandmother piping in with "Well I still don't know why you had to scream like that." My brother piping in laughing at me and talking about paying the girl an extra tip for that one. It was hard for me to explain the story in between sobs. I really didn't even understand what had happened. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before. I couldn't understand why she wanted to hurt me. My sister Marie was so upset. She sat down with me and tried to brush my hair that was teased and matted from all the stress of being yanked and pulled. Wads and clumps of hair continued to slip out of my hair. Marie grew angrier with every stroke of the brush. "Do you see all this hair Ma? This is ridiculous! Rachel, why didn't you fight back?" She continued to brush as the family all commented and put in their 2 cents of meaningless chatter. Marie continued, "Seriously Ma, you should save all this hair and take it to that little brat's mother and show her what she did!" My mother seemed to just ignore Marie's comments. "This is completely ridiculous." Marie repeated.
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