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enamouredI was checking my f-list on InsaneJournal, and someone [COUGH ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kayefierch] inadvertently made me remember this stupid/awful incident from around... fourth, fifth grade.
Sometime near the end of fourth grade, I had this unfortunate crush on a boy in 4A (the other fourth grade class; my small Catholic school had two classes of approximately twenty-four kids for each grade) named David. Somehow one of my friends told him, and it did not end well. He didn't like me, and, when faced with me, would find ways to insult me in all the ways that ten year old boys insult girls.
So anyway, at some point, I can't remember if it was in fourth grade or in fifth--we were in the same class in fifth grade, which was a whole other game of awful--he started on his usual round of making me feel like crap (insulting my teeth and my height mostly, which was rich because HE WAS JUST AS TALL AS I WAS, and I was about 5'4" then), he blurted out, "Why do you like me? Why can't you like some black guy*? What's wrong with you?"
Yeah.
It's not something I think about on the regular, but it's totally one of those things that left enough of an impression on me that it messed me up some. Not as much as, say, things family members have said to me, but, you know. One of those things.
*: by the time I reached fifth grade, I was one of three black kids total in my grade. It was me, Jessica, and Salaka. We were all girls. And even when there were black guys the same age as us, it was during our kindergarten/first grade year, and I don't know why exactly they left, but it was seriously like we left for summer break one year and the next it was just us girls.
kayefierch] inadvertently made me remember this stupid/awful incident from around... fourth, fifth grade.Sometime near the end of fourth grade, I had this unfortunate crush on a boy in 4A (the other fourth grade class; my small Catholic school had two classes of approximately twenty-four kids for each grade) named David. Somehow one of my friends told him, and it did not end well. He didn't like me, and, when faced with me, would find ways to insult me in all the ways that ten year old boys insult girls.
So anyway, at some point, I can't remember if it was in fourth grade or in fifth--we were in the same class in fifth grade, which was a whole other game of awful--he started on his usual round of making me feel like crap (insulting my teeth and my height mostly, which was rich because HE WAS JUST AS TALL AS I WAS, and I was about 5'4" then), he blurted out, "Why do you like me? Why can't you like some black guy*? What's wrong with you?"
Yeah.
It's not something I think about on the regular, but it's totally one of those things that left enough of an impression on me that it messed me up some. Not as much as, say, things family members have said to me, but, you know. One of those things.
*: by the time I reached fifth grade, I was one of three black kids total in my grade. It was me, Jessica, and Salaka. We were all girls. And even when there were black guys the same age as us, it was during our kindergarten/first grade year, and I don't know why exactly they left, but it was seriously like we left for summer break one year and the next it was just us girls.
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Date: 2012-07-30 09:15 pm (UTC)i'm sorry that happened to you. :(
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Date: 2012-07-31 07:58 pm (UTC)