I have told this story before but it seems to bear repeating given the current political environment. I was in the sixth grade when a new girl came to our class. She was from a different part of the United States and she definitely seemed to be very unlike the rest of us who had spent most of our lives in Houston, Texas.
She was shy and awkward and even the way she spoke stood out as being somewhat foreign to our own ways. I suppose that I instantly felt drawn to her because when I was in the third grade my family moved to California where I ended up feeling like a fish out of water. The fact that I had a Texas drawl when I spoke did not help me with either the students or the teacher who seemed to believe that I would be far behind the rest of the students simply because of where I had been learning up to that time. My foray into the new environment was painful and I reacted by hiding inside myself and just going back and forth to school like an automaton with little desire to win over my new classmates.
By the sixth grade I had returned to Texas and the school where I had many friends and felt comfortable every single day. Since my home was closeby I walked to and from school in those days and I soon realized that the new girl was going to follow the same route that I used. Before long we were joining each other in our journeys home each afternoon. During our time together I learned that she was as sad about leaving her old life behind as I had been when I was thrust into California. We quickly bonded as I reassured her that I knew exactly how she was feeling.
I learned that her family was struggling financially and that coming to Texas had been a way of beginning anew and finding better opportunities. Her parents were renting a house in the hopes of eventually being able to purchase a home of their own. The upheaval had left the girl feeling anxious and missing the comfort of the lifestyle and friends that she had left behind. She also realized that her midwestern accent and use of different words made her seem odd in the new culture. She wanted desperately to fit in and to build new friendships so she really appreciated our walks together that allowed her to express her feelings.
Sadly things did not go much better for her when we were at school. Somehow she continued to exist on the fringes much like I had experienced in California. Coming into a school in the spring is never easy even for someone with an outgoing personality. It is hellish for someone who is shy by nature and so it was for the girl.
Things came to a head one day when a dispute broke out between two of the boys in the class. I never found out what started the row but it became public when one of them accused the other of having a crush on the new girl. The insult was hurled out loud in a manner that indicated that the girls was so horrid that only a real loser would be attracted to her. The two offenders threw horrific comments about the girl before the teacher was able to intercede. She handled the situation beautifully but by then the girl was in tears over the public humiliation that had ensued and both of the boys were shamed. All three were sobbing with their heads down on their desks and a brutal silence that reeked of conspiracy settled over the classroom.
That afternoon the girl did not walk home with me. Her mother came to pick her up before the end of the day. We never saw her again. I never knew whether she had enrolled in another school or if she and her parents had moved. Nobody made mention of her again but I missed her and worried about her for a very long time. In fact I was never able to forget her and to wonder why she had been judged so harshly simply because she was different. I knew all of my classmates well and it was out of character for them to be that way. I wondered what kind of peer pressure had led to the willingness to count the girl out before ever giving her the benefit of doubt. I wondered why we had not welcomed her instead of judging her because in my heart I knew that without those walks I too might have avoided her.
I was eleven years old at that time. Since I was a year younger than most of my classmates they probably would have been twelve years old. As a teacher I learned that sixth graders tend to be rather immature so perhaps we were all just attempting to find our way during that time. Nonetheless we were attending a private Catholic school where we had daily lessons in religion and prayed each day in the classroom. Everything that we had been taught should have lead us to be inviting and understanding just as we had been told that it was our duty to love one another. Somehow our silliness took over and hurt another twelve year old so deeply that she was not able to come back again.
I look at the world today and I am appalled that we have so called leaders who make the bullying and insulting of that girl look tame with their egregious insults of whole swathes of people. I witness ugliness coming from adults who should know better and I am just as confused as I was watching that girl be shunned and humiliated. I felt her pain then and I feel the pain of those who are being unfairly ostracized now. What makes it so horrific is that the harsh words are coming from our president and instead of correcting him there are Americans cheering his hate. It both stuns and frightens me because it is often done in the name of religion which makes it even more egregious.
I wish that I had stood up for that girl as soon as the two boys uttered their poisonous insults of her but I did not. I was afraid and so I was silent. I have regretted that to this very day. Now as I hear an entire political movement bullying and harassing groups of people who have done nothing more that attempt to coexist among us I will no longer be silent. We have to speak out now or we will surely lose our rights to do so. It is frightening when I see individuals literally being murdered for attempting to protect others but I cannot afford to look away and neither can any other American who loves this country. It is time for us to behave like adults and insist that the slings and arrows of words that hurt be rightfully condemned.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 