Although my story is a real-life event that had previously occurred during my life, I decided to continue with a free-write anyways to capture some emotions that may have occurred or events that I may have forgotten. It was a pretty interesting experience picking up new details of an event so many years ago – all the way back in elementary school.
I remember basic settings and characters of what had unfolded. The event was based in Chaffey Burke elementary, in the middle of third grade when my parents brought me back to renew my passport. I remember names like Sandy, Thomas, and Martin.
This exact school!
I found myself dwelling on a few key words or phrases, like “shame,” “pressure,” “foreign,” and “alienation” – which solidified my understanding of how people present during this event may have felt. You might be wondering what exactly my event is about. Truth be told, it’s a little embarrassing.
This event that I speak of is when I bullied, pretty seriously, a girl in elementary school.
Crazy, right? Nobody probably expected this from a young, ethnically minority girl who’s only been to Canada for 3 weeks when the bullying occurred. Even now, just talking and thinking about this, I know there is fresh judgement towards my character. Whoever is reading (yes YOU), I can smell your judgment wafting through my computer screen.
You are judging me.
And that is exactly my point. My story isn’t about this poor girl that young Laura held prejudice towards. This is a story about us, as a humane species, and our tendency to judge. It’s about peer pressure and herd-behavior. I judged the girl I bullied. My friends in elementary school judged me for NOT judging the girl. You’re judging me for judging the girl. I’m judging you for judging me for judging the girl. This endless cycle where we are always grazing the surface level of one’s story and leaping towards a conclusion of their character. Always acting like people are not people, standing on our high horse, and forgetting that we’ve all judged at some point in our lives.
Not to excuse my horrific behavior, even as a child. But I want you to understand that this is not a story with a beginning, climax, and ending.
This is a story that is still cycling through every one of us, forever, until we all die out.
Hi Laura,
I found this post very interesting, you set up the topic and focus points of your story very well. I enjoyed the circular nature of your writing near the end of this post and am curious about how this story will not have a definitive beginning, climax and end.
I question if you will be using real names or direct retellings of the past events of your life in this story? How might changing certain elements in the setting, characters or plot amplify or nullify the point of your story?
Excited to read more,
Melea Chew Roberts