School Time 1
At the age of six years I joined primary school finding myself once again in a completely unknown enviroment understanding that I and the other kids would be going to be tested for the coming four years in the usual knowledges. Fact was once again, I did not know anyone here. Watching the kids laughing and talking to eachother because they knew each other from the other Kindergardens made me feel sad. I wanted to know them aswell. Ripped out of the enviroment of my fellow friends at Kindergarden I had to face the same situation again and I thought to myself that if it would have worked before, it must again. False.
Throughout two years I became a victim of heavy mobbing at that school - very hard times for me. I often came home and cried my eyes out and I didn´t want to go back there the next morning. It all started at the first morning of visiting grammar school, I think, when the teacher read out the names directing the pupils to their new classes.
I was put into class 1a. We had to stand in a row of two and the teacher led us ,walking hand in hand, to our class room. It happened to be that my partner was a girl. So, sitting in a chair circle with the class-teacher introducing herself to us and wanting us to introduce ourselves to the class, I recognized that old feeling, I had nearly forgotten, return, scince the second my parents and me left home that morning. And I seemed to have strengthened that aggressive, destroying feeling by letting the nervousity win versus my thoughts.
After listening to the expressions of my class-mates and expressing me quite shortly to them the teacher announciated that the seating plan was going to be chosen by the pupils themselves but only half of the class could decide to whom they wanted to sit next to. Therefore Mrs. Möller, how she was named, read the names out of who could decide. These were coincidental chosen names, half of the class. I was one of them and chose that girl who I accompanied with when walking into the school-building. But, the thing was, that I didn't know that that pupil actually was a girl.
As I chose her to be my desk-neighbour, and called her name because it was my turn to choose, her eyes seemed to fill with such deep hatered, she simply just looked through me, shaking her head slowly; me, feeling fear. My mistake. Later she aked the class teacher to swap places with someone for no reason. I still did not get to know anyone for the next month because then it began...
The mobbing appeard in various ways and it took me sometime to figure out who was pulling the strings on all this psycho terror, to realize that this girl had such great power to manipulate the whole class chasing me after school on bikes trying to knock me off of mine , while at break outside at school pushing me around in a big mob , shouting all of the time "show-off, show-off" , only because I was the fastest sprinter while in physical education-lesson. Even bringing a few of the higher classes to start up fights with me. Hard times at that age, being absolutely on your own. But, after another couple of months had past again I made friends with a class-mate called Marc. He seemed to have realised that it was wrong what she was doing to me. Even if it got tough again during the breaks outside, he wouldn`t offend me, no, standing by my side he defended me, and by that he taught me what audacity is.
We spent time together after school and I introduced him to my english friends at home in the army quarters, going to the woods on adventure-trips , finding the boundries of physical possibilities by using the BMX, and so on.
As two winters had passed it all got less aggressive at school. Yes, funny to say, but the kids seemed to have woken up and I enjoyed participating with them finally, though I was very carefull, always aware of that I could do something wrong, for them to dislike me eventually maybe again...at that time I often began to spontaniously bleed from my nose, with the blood pouring heavily out of it at parts of time...
Throughout two years I became a victim of heavy mobbing at that school - very hard times for me. I often came home and cried my eyes out and I didn´t want to go back there the next morning. It all started at the first morning of visiting grammar school, I think, when the teacher read out the names directing the pupils to their new classes.
I was put into class 1a. We had to stand in a row of two and the teacher led us ,walking hand in hand, to our class room. It happened to be that my partner was a girl. So, sitting in a chair circle with the class-teacher introducing herself to us and wanting us to introduce ourselves to the class, I recognized that old feeling, I had nearly forgotten, return, scince the second my parents and me left home that morning. And I seemed to have strengthened that aggressive, destroying feeling by letting the nervousity win versus my thoughts.
After listening to the expressions of my class-mates and expressing me quite shortly to them the teacher announciated that the seating plan was going to be chosen by the pupils themselves but only half of the class could decide to whom they wanted to sit next to. Therefore Mrs. Möller, how she was named, read the names out of who could decide. These were coincidental chosen names, half of the class. I was one of them and chose that girl who I accompanied with when walking into the school-building. But, the thing was, that I didn't know that that pupil actually was a girl.
As I chose her to be my desk-neighbour, and called her name because it was my turn to choose, her eyes seemed to fill with such deep hatered, she simply just looked through me, shaking her head slowly; me, feeling fear. My mistake. Later she aked the class teacher to swap places with someone for no reason. I still did not get to know anyone for the next month because then it began...
The mobbing appeard in various ways and it took me sometime to figure out who was pulling the strings on all this psycho terror, to realize that this girl had such great power to manipulate the whole class chasing me after school on bikes trying to knock me off of mine , while at break outside at school pushing me around in a big mob , shouting all of the time "show-off, show-off" , only because I was the fastest sprinter while in physical education-lesson. Even bringing a few of the higher classes to start up fights with me. Hard times at that age, being absolutely on your own. But, after another couple of months had past again I made friends with a class-mate called Marc. He seemed to have realised that it was wrong what she was doing to me. Even if it got tough again during the breaks outside, he wouldn`t offend me, no, standing by my side he defended me, and by that he taught me what audacity is.
We spent time together after school and I introduced him to my english friends at home in the army quarters, going to the woods on adventure-trips , finding the boundries of physical possibilities by using the BMX, and so on.
As two winters had passed it all got less aggressive at school. Yes, funny to say, but the kids seemed to have woken up and I enjoyed participating with them finally, though I was very carefull, always aware of that I could do something wrong, for them to dislike me eventually maybe again...at that time I often began to spontaniously bleed from my nose, with the blood pouring heavily out of it at parts of time...
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Comment by Sunette on March 11, 2008 at 1:20am - The children still within this world carrying the 'sins of the fathers' - meaning the behavioral and reactions patterns, designs, constructs and programming from parents passed on to children then acted out unto other children. Therefore - we must stop this 'generation passing on' - by stopping within ourselves - standing one and equal as who we are as life, so that the children to come may be assisted and supported as life as all as one as equal as realise their individual self expression. Not acting out that which their parents represent.
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