stupid helen
you talk too much
think before you talk
stupid helen

I am still traumatized to this day from something that happened in my spanish class in my junior year. I don't know what I could have done, but I did what was right or what I knew to be write then.
An average period in Spanish class with my not so favorite teacher Esquer.
We were starting up class and I passed up my homework but I forgot if I had written my name on top and I asked for my paper back. That put me behind in writing everything in my agenda, and I was quickly finishing that up and hadn't moved on to the assignment for the day yet though most of the other students had. I had my arm over the class text book on my desk as I was finishing up my agenda entry when another girl in the class said she did not have the book. I was about finished and about to open up my book when Esquer came up to me in the middle of the classroom out of her way, and yanked the textbook from out of my arm because I was not doing the assignment like everyone else. I was getting to it, I hadn't started yet like the other girl but I was targeted, she picked me out of the whole class of 30 or so students. There might have been other empty seats, the girl could have shared her book with the person sitting next to her, but Esquer targeted me and that definitely was not fair nor right.
I started crying, I don't remember how Esquer reacted but she continued with the class nonetheless as I tried to cry silently in the middle of class. I awkwardly shared the textbook the rest of class with the boy next to me. I did not do the assignments that well that period or the rest of the day because of the state my teacher left me in. She did not say anything to that. I really contemplated my options, could I be dramatic and walk out crying? Should I have been disrespectful and called her out for her unjust actions? I did the safest thing I knew, because had I done option 1 she might have marked me absent for class, though just being in class in that emotional state was absent enough for me. I couldn't be disrespectful or else I'd receive an office referral or something. I stayed out that period crying silently to myself, blaming myself, and I walked out when the bell rang and didn't go to journalism class after that, I went to my drama teacher crying.
He was outside the drama room talking with one of the students with other students waiting to talk to him. I waited for him to stop talking, and when he finished his conversation he turned to me first and told everyone else they have to talk to him another time. He brought me into his classroom and corner desk and hugged me until I stopped crying. I hate hugs, but I really needed this one. After I calmed myself, I explained to him what Esquer had done to me in the period before and then he called for security to take me to the campus psychologist. I was sad he referred me to someone else. I didn't like telling people I didn't know about things that affected me so.
I met the campus psychologist, this woman and I repeated what had happened again. It distressed me so because this teacher, a mentor, a professional, and a teacher of all people had bullied me within this school, classroom setting. I knew it was not right and that is why it had distressed me, saddened me, because that sort of action, response, whatever was unacceptable and not correct to have happened. It shouldn't have happened, I was not doing anything outrageous to have done that to myself other than be a little behind in starting an assignment. This was a personal issue.
School was my only haven from home, I hated being home and I loved school because it was an escape. I loved school because I could be who I was and not be discriminated by the important people in my life by distractions like homework. I didn't want to deal with it so I just excused myself with homework, got lost in getting so involved and away from home. I couldn't stand having to deal with bullying and judgement from a teacher at school. I couldn't stand it. I have enough of that at home, I do not want to be dealing with that at school. Why do I have to be dealing with that at school?? Ridiculous. She asked some context questions: How were my grades in the class? How did I act in the class? My grades were good, and I participated a lot in class because that is how I learn best. I felt sometimes that she would ignore me and that she had favorites because she always picked certain people first.
The psychologist ask if I had someone to talk to, a friend. I said yes, but I really did not know if I had a friend I could tell this to. Someone who really cared enough about me to care about me being distressed. I don't think I really did. I can say that Jon is my best friend, but I do not know if he cared. I do not know. He is my best friend, but I don't talk to him as much anymore, and I'm sad I don't much of an effort. That's another story. She said good, then she asked what can be done to solve this problem and honestly, I didn't know what could have been done. I did not know. I only knew the dramatic and radical solution which was switching class. I always thought that was stupid, people who did that were stupid because so long as you did your work properly that was enough to get by. I know no that was not the correct solution, and I knew back then it wasn't either but I knew no other way. If I had the knowledge I knew now back then I should have brought it up to the principal, I should have gotten her fired or at least I should have written her a letter and talked with her what the fuck she was thinking. I stayed in her class for the rest of the semester, and nothing was ever addressed between her and I. I felt stupid for switching classes but I know for sure what she did was wrong and forgive me for being a wussy or not tough enough to stay in her class, but she had problems with me. I did not want to stay in that atmosphere knowing that she might do that again to me. I did not want it to happen again, so I left.
Four years later, I still go back to that day, I still cry because it was not right. I am sad that happened to me and I did not know how to handle that situation. I did not know what to do. Traumatized until I can do something about it, until I can address it however small it was. Traumatized that this happened to me in my haven.
Now I'm glad to say I know what I can do if that were ever to happen again, and hopefully I plan to send this post to her eventually when I stop putting up excuses.
Senora Esquer, you have traumatized me, influenced me, made me cry, make me cry, but I am comforted at these times knowing that what you did was wrong and should not have ever happened. I will address you one day. Not for revenge, but for myself, to heal the wrong still resides within me.