Real Life Mean Girls

I recently read a post on Modigli's blog, , and I began to think of an experience from my past. Our middle school years are sometimes the hardest. Since I'm a teacher, I have had some time to think psychologically about that age. By the end of my first year, I realized that some of my students just didn't seem to 'get it.' They came to school, but they left their brains at home. I have been thinking about this. I don't even remember much from when I was in middle school! I can't tell you my teacher's names or what I learned. . . I wasn't worried about any of that. Just like my students today, I was worried about how I looked in front of others. I paid attention to what I was wearing, what I said, or how I acted in front of the boys...you know, all the important stuff. In the world of psychology, middle schoolers are just starting to look outside of their bubble. All of a sudden what their peers think really matters. I had my own experience with this, in fact it was when I was in sixth grade. I like to think of it as one of my life altering moments, even though at the time it was a horror!

I don't want to brag, but I was one of the 'popular' crowd. I had all the right friends and there was always room for me at the best lunch table. Even now I can remember where it was in the lunch room. I was one of the girls that always had a boyfriend, though at that age they usually lasted about a week. I was cute then and when I got my first kiss from an eight grader, I got to tell all my friends what it was like. Then one day, my life would change. Just like most other mornings, I woke up and got ready, which meant I needed to curl my bangs, cuff my jeans, and roll the sleeves on my shirt, you know, the 'essential preparation'. When I got off the school bus, I met up with my friends only to hear some interesting information. Here's what they told me, "Have you heard? C.M. died! He was in a car accident and he was killed." C.M. was one of the most popular boys in the school. I thought about what my friend said to me and then I responded by saying this, "You're kidding. This is a joke. I don't believe it." Then my friend repeated what she told me and as I looked around at all the other groups lingering outside of school I saw kids crying. I suddenly realized this wasn't a joke. Even though I wasn't really close to him, I still felt bad about it.

Later that day, between second and third block, I was approached by a girl named Shelly, a girl bully. Threat was her middle name. "You think this is a joke? Are you laughing about C.M.'s death?," She asked. I couldn't believe it. I didn't think that, but somehow she had heard that and though I tried to explain myself, she wouldn't listen. I didn't know what to do, but it became clear that my world was shattering when I went into my next class. As I sat in my seat in Science class, I leaned forward to talk with the Red Head Twin. I was a bit disgruntled by what Shelly had said, so I wanted to talk with her. I tapped her on the shoulder and said, "Hey, guess what just happened to me?" She turned around, but she wasn't smiling when she said, "Listen b**ch, I know what you said and I don't want to ever talk with you again. No one wants to be friends with you." Then she whipped around. At this point, my little sixth grade self wanted to crawl up into a ball and cry. But I was too tough for that, I wasn't going to cry in front of the rest of the class, especially because I noticed they were all starring at me while giving dirty looks.

The day didn't get any better. I went into the lunch room, expecting to sit at my usual table. I bought my lunch and walked over to the table, then sat down. Popular kids can be really mean, I knew, because I was one of them, but I really didn't expect them to turn on me. After I sat down, in complete unison, everyone else at the table got up. Then took their food and moved. The point was made. I was no longer a part of their group. I couldn't take it anymore, so I ran into the bathroom and cried. I hadn't done anything and I was getting punished. It was a misunderstanding of my words that morning. I had lost all my friends. The rest of the day was a blur, but I would quickly learn that the popular crowd weren't the only ones shunning me. Basically every other student in the school stopped talking to me.

When you are young each day feels like a lifetime and my experience lasted an eternity. I was ignored for a long time, or atleast that is what I remember. Even the Bully Girl, Shelly, found several ways to threaten me. I remember one time walking in the hallway between the art and tech ed rooms. She stopped me and said, "I'm going to jump you after school. You better watch out, because my friends and I are coming after you and when we find you we are going to beat you." I didn't know how to respond to this, and even though I was scared of her, I knew I had to look like I didn't care. I walked past her without saying a word, praying to God that I would be safe.

After what felt like an eternity, some of my peers started talking with me again. Of course I would never be a part of the popular crowd, but at least some kids were being nice to me. Even though it was a extremely traumatic experience for me, I think I kept it all to myself. I learned a great lesson from it all. I knew what it felt like for those kids that I had picked on. I felt bad about being mean. I vowed to my young self that I would never be that way again, because I knew what it felt like. Through the years I would eventually make friends with all the kids in the popular crowd again, but I had no desire to be exclusive to just that group. I also made friends with many others, from many different groups. Instead of becoming involved with a cliche, I found three other friends that were in the same boat as me, we wanted to get to know everyone. It was a wise lesson, even though at the time my world was devastated. My life was altered, but the traumatic experience was for the better. So when we wonder why we have to go through hard experiences, we should remember there is a lesson behind it all. We will learn and grow and it is up to us how we come out of the situation. We can be bitter and hold grudges or move on and look forward. I chose to move on when I was in sixth grade and now I'm fighting another battle of hurt feelings, but I have every intention to do they same, move on and look forward!