hand me downs…

I’ve been bullied. I was a rich kid raised like a poor kid… I wore my brother’s hand me downs after two sisters, I had a bowl cut until I was 14 and I hit puberty when I was 9. I looked like a boy in a woman’s body in boys clothes. So needless to say, I learned how to cope early.

Nothing prepared me for what I had to deal with last semester. I’ve had issues with professors before and it’s easily been sorted, but last semester there was a particular issue that wouldn’t go away. The worst part is that wasn’t when the bullying occurred. When the professor refused me a meeting, I had to meet with the chair instead. Her response to my well laid out and unaggressive argument for my mark was… Clearly I didn’t belong in school, clearly I didn’t care all that much about it. I’ve never cried at school before and I barely was able to keep my feelings inside as I thought maybe she was right. I didn’t mention the way I didn’t get any funding for my schooling, the way I worked full time jobs while full time in school (as in 5 courses). I didn’t mention that time I lived in my car. I didn’t mention the times I went hungry. I didn’t mention the sometimes less than ideal ways I made money for my tuition. I just broke.

It took me a while to move on. But I did. I moved right on out of school, because a school that supports a chair like that does not provide an education worth having.

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