Tabitha Takes A Bully

I told this story at a Moth storytelling workshop this month and thought I'd write it down and share it with you. Also, if you laughed at the stock photo, know that you're a bad person, as am I. You're in good company. But enjoy this story about one of the worst bullies I've ever encountered.

When you're the first generation child of immigrant, you are given one job to succeed in America and subsequently bring honor and glory to your entire bloodline. As the daughter from the new nation, you carry with you the generational debt to bring increase the entire economic and social status of your family. And so when I started school, I can remember saying to me : Be the smartest kid in class. Go be excellent. Be like Oprah, like Condaleeza. And for years I was. I can distinctly remember the moment late great Nancy Strata, my Kindergarten teacher had told me "You are the head of your class". I carried this phrase home with pride, knowing that I'd make my mother proud.

But what my mother didn't tell me in her motivational tirades was that being the smartest girl in your class, would attract something other than fame fortune, - bullies. Being the dark skinned, smart, and overweight was not a recipe for instant popularity. The kid at Holy Family School didn't quite see me as the up-and-coming young Oprah figure. I was bullied relentlessly, everything from my glasses, to my skin, to the texture of my hair, Anti-blackness was big back then....Antiblackness is still big now, but I digress. The kids outdid themselves, stretching the bounds of their creativity to come up with the most ridiculous insults. "You look like Pete Pablo. You look like the young Grinch. You so black that etc etc et. They had even found a way to make fun of my clothes even though we all wore the same dull brown, and green striped plaid uniforms.

Bastards.

My mom had tried on many occasions to intervene, to stop the teasing, but I seemed to be too easy of a target. I learned to ignore most of what the kids had said. But no matter what I did they just kept on going.

This lasted for years until one day in the 5th grade, I thought I'd get my big break. And that's because for the first time in years, we had a new kid. Steven rose, a brown skin pudgy little black kid from one the local public schools had just transferred. And in his eyes I saw, my salvation. Because if there's nothing bullies love more than bullying the overweight, smart black girl, it's the new kid. As he sat down, three rose behind me, I smiled to myself thinking " Free at Last. Free at Last." But the next few weeks would prove me wrong.

Much to my chagrin, Steven Rose, little cunning social strategist, had stumbled upon a brilliant strategy to make friends and solidify his precarious social status. Steven started bullying me. And he bullied me - hard. Steven was the ultimate bully hype man. If the joke was at a 4, steven would bring it up to a 10 , going above and beyond to make me feel small. If no one was bullying me, Steven would slink his way over to me and find an arbitrary thing to start poking fun at. He had become my personal bully and pushed me back to the bottom of the social ladder where it seemed that I would stay.

And then one day, Steven took it too far. One afternoon, it had begun to rain heavily and so Ms. Stern our teacher had relegated our entire 5th grade class to indoor recess. All 25 of sat around the classroom in various assortments, playing games, chatting, and other miscellaneous kid stuff. But this indoor recess, was special because we had a guest. Joey Dizenzo, a pudgy blue eyed 6th grader with the thickest italian accent I'd ever heard. We rode the bus together everyday and in that time , he'd become nothing less than the absolute the love of my life.

As he sat, I'd sneak glances over, slowly making a plan for striking conversation. And as i get up to go to say something, I hear this grating voice from behind me. The voice utters "Damn Tabitha , you so fat the earth shakes when you stand up. Steven had crossed the line. To berate me in front of Joey Dizenzo was a mortal sin. In that moment, something changed within me. My shoulders dropped down, my back straightened and I turned to Steven and stopped my foot and said "Do you see the gound shaking Steven Rose ?!!!" "You are just fat as me and so if I cause the earth to shake so do you! I'm not going to take this from you anymore. Leave me alone you loser!" The words echoed through the room and time stool still for all of 2 seconds before the entire classroom erupted into applause. Oprah!!!!

And when I turned around, I met Joey's blue eyes, smiling at me with pride. And that was the day Steven, and all the other kids, stopped bullying me. I didn't know I had it in me, but the prospect of being humiliated in front of this cute boy had awoken a feminist battle cry and I had to let myself be known. When I came home to tell my mom this story, she told me she was so proud of me and proud of my strength. But that was the first time, outside of the grades I got or awards I received, that I really felt proud of myself.

I still have a sore spot for boys who pick on little black girls.