Throwback Thursday Memory Blog
Caution this is not a fun blog post but it’s a true one from my heart.
Maggie is our hostess this week as she alternates with Lauren for the Throwback Thursday/ I Remember When series.
This week’s prompt is: School Memories – Take this prompt wherever it leads you. Here are some suggestions to consider.
Who was your favorite teacher? What about your worst? Were you a member of any clubs? Did you attend homecoming or the prom? What was your favorite subject? Were you the perfect student or a troublemaker? What clothes were in style when you were in school? How did you get to school? Bus, walk, drive? Any extracurricular activities? What did you do for lunch? Did you attend football games or other sports? Did you attend school when corporal punishment was applied? Have a school photo you wish to share?
I wrote this poem on abuse at school by piers and teachers, in 2012. It is personal and I am not afraid to say so. My school days were among the worst days of my life. I was lucky in a way as there was no internet in my day, once I was home I was more or less safe.
It can be even worse these days as there is now cyber bullying so the poor victim cannot get away from it unless they cut themselves off completely from the modern appliances. In fact some people are Tolled after their death and so it is their family that carry on receiving the bullying.
It is abuse it should be stopped but the schools do not seem to be able to stop it !
It’s nothing less than abuse.
Rounded shoulders head hung down
Rounded shoulders head hung down why do they all make fun of me I am not a clown. Sitting in the row spiteful girls stick their pens in my legs. Teacher at the front she must never know, she wouldn’t help she treats me like dregs.
Following me nearly home, calling me mean names,in the playground I always stand alone they don’t pick me for their games. Opening my desk finding it’s been trashed , my text book been drawn in and my favourite doll has been smashed.
Mum tried her hardest but being the youngest of six my things did not get replaced they just got fixed. My plimsolls were the wrong colour they were black instead of white , I was hauled up on the stage, lectured in front of the school then had to stay on late that night. I just could not make it I could not win with staff and girls against me all I could do was just give in.
I met my boyfriend, and his friends did not like me because I spoke differently, I was from the posh school. They though I was rich, I was not I was just like them it would of made no difference if I’d let them know. When we were out or at a party they were pleasant to my face but if my guy was not there and behind my back the things they said were just a disgrace. They joined the line of teachers and my piers it makes me wonder now how I stood it for all those years.
I am not saying I no friends, no that would not be true. I did have friends and they were good but they were the very few. I always felt so ugly, too fat and too short and if anyone was nice to me I could not believe it. What do they want was my first thought.
Things got better when I started work I seemed to come out of my shell like a little butterfly I changed and put aside my days of living hell. They tell you, you don’t realize that school days are the best days of your life , thank God I never listened or I would of ended mine with a knife.
Thank God I grew away from all the pain but sometimes I see a face hear a voice or a name and it all floods back again. I am older now and have all that I could ask for, family and friends but sometimes my calm deserts me and confidence takes flight, fear and dark descends and I feel lost in the night. I ask the question now why children’s jibes and actions can be so mean and cruel. The worse days of my life were my years at school. I cry each time I read or hear on the news how children can hurt each other IT NOTHING LESS THAN ABUSE.
