Finding my Voice: The day I (should’ve have known) knew I didn’t have one.

I remember this incident like it was yesterday. I was in the second grade and it was a good month for me. I got awarded the student of the month, I was getting A’s and B’s on my test. Things were going great for me as a seven-year-old. But there were these two girls named Brook and Alexander (We called her Alex). Little did I know at the time, they were upset about me getting student of the month. So, these two girls came up with a plot to get me in trouble with our teacher.

So, the story of what I was accused of goes as followed. It was during recess I apparently went to the girls and we had an argument. About what? I have no clue. But the argument heated up, and I said something disrespectful that it offended them greatly. Now, you’re probably asking yourself what did I say exactly? Well, that’s a good question, unfortunately, I don’t have an answer.

As these two girls told the teacher of what I have supposedly said to them. She called me to her desk and asked me if I said those things to them. I asked what was it that I said to them, but she never gave me an answer. At least I don’t recall her giving me an answer. So, she called the girls up and they told their side of the story that I called them inappropriate words. So, the teacher asked what was it that I said to them. The two girls looked at each other for a moment, and turned back to the teacher and shook their heads no. The teacher told them that it was okay, and they won’t get in trouble for saying it.

Feeling confident by what they were just told, they leaned into the teacher’s ears and told her the words I supposedly said to them. Now me, I’m standing there shouting out “What?!” as in “What?! What did I say to you guys?” The only response I got from the teacher was that I know what I said. But that wasn’t good enough for me. I wanted a clear answer and I wanted one now. So, being seven-years-old at the time, I started to get emotional and began to cry. As I told the teacher repeatedly that I didn’t say anything to them at recess. Seeing that I was on the playground, and they were on the field (So they claimed). But the teacher walked me to the front office and wrote a report to the principal, detailing what was just said to her.

I sat there for the rest of the day crying not understanding why anyone would do something like that to me. I was accused of saying something that I don’t recall saying, even to this day I still don’t know what I said. But I still remember what happened once my teacher left me there. She told me that I disappointed her that day, she chose me as a student of the month, because of my kindness. But I guess she figured she was wrong about me.

Just hearing those words “Disappointed” stuck with me throughout my whole life. Even today at the age of twenty-seven-years old. I can still hear her say those words to me. And I can still see my younger self-crying, looking at me and asking that same question. “What did I say?” and the only thing I can tell him is, “I don’t know.” Even I, myself, can’t give a satisfactory answer.

But to end this sad and depressing story. The principal called me up the next week and asked me the same thing. I explained to her that I don’t know what I said and if I knew I would apologize to them for saying it. She told me that she would be calling my parents about the situation and not to say those “nasty” words to anyone ever again. Again, I was never told what I said to them. I was simply told to be quiet and go about my day. But something interesting did happen when I was thirteen. But that’s a different story for another day. Until next time my friends.


Bonus Short story:

A few months have gone by, and I remember hearing this phrase from my mother every time my brother and I did something wrong. The phrase goes as is “I’m going to beat the hell out of you.” Now hearing this word coming from my mother, who I don’t recall cursing at us at such an early age. Never told me why that was a bad word in the first place. So, one day there’s was another girl who kept teasing me, and I got upset and I said the same thing. My mother heard me, and she “beat the hell out of me.” She took me to the girl and made me apologize for saying that to her, and her mother made her apologize for teasing me. About what exactly? You’ll learn about it next week. But the bottom line of this story, I remember this, I remember saying those words. But the story above, till this day I still don’t know what I said. But now that I told someone, I guess I can finally lay it to rest.

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