Good Afternoon!! I am currently snuggled up in my bed with candles burning to try and get the nerve to write the next part to My Story. To be perfectly honest, I have been dreading this part. I have lost sleep over how to tastefully write my feelings without bashing other people for one mistake they made ten years ago. Before I get into the drama and hurt, I need you to know that I do not hold a single grudge against any of these girls. I think they made a poor decision because they were young and unaware of how their words and actions would impact how I felt about myself and my disease. If I saw any of these beautiful girls at Wegmans or Target I would stop and say hello and ask them how they are doing. I can’t blame a group of 13 year olds for not understanding my complex medical situation. I truly wish nothing but the best for them. As for the other situation in today’s post, I still am not over it. I don’t think I will ever be…which is apparent in my writing. My hope is that someone can learn from her mistakes. No child, or person for that matter deserves to be treated the way I was. Buckle up boys and girls…this one is a doozy.
As winter came, I was missing more and more school. I was put in a grueling physical therapy program a CHOP that was essentially a full time job. I was at the hospital everyday from 8-5…which meant I wasn’t in school. Not long after I graduated from that program, I was back in the hospital with a stress induced migraine…another two weeks away from the class room. Stomach viruses. Strep throat. Joint immobility. I was taking one hit after another.
One night I was stuck in bed with yet another stomach virus… I had been out of school for probably three or four days when my cell phone rang. I answered. Three of my best friends were on the other line. I was excited to hear from them…at first.
“Why do you send us all the same text when you aren’t going to be in school”, the first girl said.
“You never come to parties or even bother to hang out with us anymore. Do you know how that makes us feel?” another continued
“When you do come to school you only wear pajamas, how do you think that makes us look?”
To be honest I don’t know how long it went on for. My brother heard me crying and assumed I had vomited. He went to get my mom to come help me. Mom came in my room and saw the tears and looked into the empty bucket next to my bed when she saw I was on the phone. She asked me what was wrong and who I was talking too, but I couldn’t form words.
She grabbed the phone and asked the girls to announce themselves. One girl screamed for everyone to hang up. One brave voice spoke up and told my mom who was one the phone. The brave girl told everyone to hang up and she called my mom back on my phone and explained what happened and how she was wrong. I didn’t get even a text from the other girls.
In that moment I had lost the group of friends who I had confided in for over a year. Middle school is hard enough without losing all of your friends half way through the year. I was devastated. Who was I going to sit with at lunch on the days I went to school? How was this story going to be re-told when I am suddenly off their Top 8 on MySpace? Why did my disease cause me to lose my very best friends? I was heartbroken but as all middle school drama, it was forgotten in a few days. I had other friends to lean on, which helped soften the blow. I wish I could tell you that was the worst form of bullying I would experience, but that wasn’t the case.
In 8th grade you switch classes, I was lucky enough to have three understanding an accommodating educators. The fourth, however, was the most cold hearted person I have ever met. She was young, beautiful and passive aggressive. She made comments about how my nails were always perfect when I was out for a week (If I wasn’t vomiting Dad would take me to get my nails done as a way to get me out of bed and to keep my spirits up…there were times where I was in too much pain to walk so he carried me into the salon). She rarely emailed me my missing assignments, and when she did, she expected them to ALL be complete the very next day; worksheets, reading full novels, projects and tests… all due the next day.
Being that my situation was, well unique, my parents had meeting with all my teachers, the principals, and the assistant super intendant regularly. Even after MONTHS of the same messaging, the teacher still refused to be understanding and follow my IEP. Other teachers tried to talk to her, saying she couldn’t possibly understand because she wasn’t a parent yet. They made the excuse that she was young so how could she know how to deal with the situation. In my experience, someone’s age does not determine whether or not you have compassion or empathy for others. Something bigger needed to be done.
My mom left serval voicemails with the super intendant to reach out to her to discuss the issues we were having. In her final attempt, she told him if she didn’t hear back she would have to file a complaint with the Board of Education. Well, there was no phone call returned, so Momma did as she said she would. She called the Federal Department of Education to let them know there was a situation where an IEP was not being honored, and that was actually a violation of the American’s with Disabilities Act. Did you know that discrimination is a federal crime?
When the federal agent assigned to my case called to ask my parents what damages they wanted (aka money) my parents told him that they simply wanted me to get an education. No money…just the education I had a right to receive. After months of working with the school to put together a plan for kids with chronic illnesses, we dropped the complaint.
To be perfectly clear, this was an isolated issue with ONE teacher (who still works at the school by the way). Im not sure if it was fear or the fact that the rest of my educators were good people, but I never had to worry about being bullied by an adult ever again.
My principal, who I was lucky enough to have for both middle school and high school, was and still is, a big part of my life. She has always had my back. She believed in me, when I didn’t believe in myself. If it wasn’t for her, I honestly don’t know how we (my parents and I) would have made it through that extremely hard time. I hope she knows the impact she has made on my life.
Well, that was a tough one for me. I can accept my disease because it was no one’s fault. I can accept middle school girls, being well, middle school girls. However, I refuse to accept how anyone, especially a teacher, could be so heartless. Out of all the negative, I learned that not everyone has your best interest in mind and to be wary. That’s all I have for you today.
xoxo,
K
