Pamela's Story

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Pamela's Story

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I was bullied all throughout 6th grade and 9th is when it got worse. But the 9th is when it stopped. I was made fun of my birthmark. People would call it a shit stain. They would say that I didn’t take a shower and that the mud was piling up. They would make fun of the way I walked, because I used to walk with pigeon toes. They would call me cripple. They would make fun of me playing Pokemon, because I used to be a really big fanatic about it, and I used to actually be the Pokemon, and I would play around in the 6th grade and 7th. I would play on the field and they would tell me grow up. What are you doing? And at that time I didn’t think I was allowed to grow up. I was still in that kid stage. And it was more about pushing. Everyone would push me and everyone would shove me. And I would try to tell my mom, but she didn’t probably understand what bullying meant. I was very alone with this. I only had probably one friend. A lot of people didn’t want to be friends with me because they were afraid that they were going to be bullied with me. And 7th grade or 8th was when I went into surgery for my appendix. And I was gone for about a month or two. And in that hospital bed, I felt more comfort. I felt like I actually was wanted instead of being in school. When I came back, I had to stay by the PE teachers to avoid getting shoved or pushed or even teased. And it was always in the locker room that they would try and corner me. They would try and pull my hair. They would try and call me names. Fat, ugly, the b-word. And in 9th grade, they stopped calling me those little names and they started saying the actual cuss words, like bitch or dumbass, or what are you doing here? No one – [crying] – no one wants you. And at one point it did get to me. And I would cut my wrists thinking that one day I would have enough courage to split my vein. And I didn’t know who to turn to because no one wanted to be with me. I had no friends. Everyone was so afraid of getting bullied the way I was. So it was just myself and this. And I would tell a teacher. I would tell them. But they wouldn’t do anything. They would just say ignore them as if I wasn’t trying to already. And there was one time, this one girl, I guess she bumped into me. And she said sorry. And then she looked back and she saw that it was me, and she said, oh never mind. You don’t – you deserve to be pushed and shoved. She said it right in front of one of these mentors, and the mentor didn’t do anything. She just looked at me. And she just said, cut it out, and then she kept walking. I remember I was sitting there in class, and she was talking to her, and she said, why don’t you like her, and she said, oh because she’s a fat bitch. She said that to the mentor and she didn’t stand up for me. She just looked at her, and said, don’t say that and brushed it off. She didn’t see that she was actually affecting me. I didn’t know who to turn at that time. And I felt like even if I did turn to a teacher they weren’t going to do anything. But in the 9th grade when it did get worse, I had to go to the security office at least 7 times so they would finally hear me out because I couldn’t stand it anymore. Because it was every time I was walking to math class or to B that I had to encounter them. So I’d always have to encounter them. I’d always have to be pushed. I’d always have to be called different names. And I didn’t even know these girls half the time. And they would come up to me and they would say, oh, I heard you talking about me, this and that. I didn’t even know their names. It would always be worse at PE because it was the last period. And they felt that they should just take out all their anger at me. There was this one time I was called, my friend Winter, she called me out to go pick up something from a teacher. I was like, okay, I’ll go follow you. She basically led me to those girls. And they had their hair up. They were ready to jump me. And I knew something was wrong, so I looked, and they were just talking, so I walked away. I already felt like something bad was about to occur. So I was walking out the gates in front of the school and those two girls approached me and they were like why are you running away? We’re going to settle this here and now. And I was like, I don’t even know you guys. And they were like, don’t be such a little bitch. And there was security, and they were like, hey cut it out. So I had to run to my babysitter at that time, I just ran to her car, and I started crying. And she saw me, and she was like, what’s wrong? And I told her. And she was like, why don’t you talk to someone about it? And I was like, because I don’t know who to turn to. And that’s the day I went for the 7th time to tell someone, the principal. And they had me sit with all the girls. And they just looked at me with so much hate in their eyes as if I, as if they were innocent. They were trying to play innocent. And that day was the final day that we had to move, and it wasn’t because of the bullying but because we were losing our house. But ever since then I didn’t let myself get bullied. It also was pretty bad at middle school because the time that my grandpa died and I remember not even wanting to go to class because I wanted to go to his funeral. But they would just pick at me and make everything worse. And in 9th grade when I moved I figured I wasn’t go to let it happen anymore. I was going to stand up for myself. And ever since then I haven’t been bullied.

See Bullied Children's video on Pamela's Story...

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Children's Bullying Stories

In an effort to #EndBullying, Kids in the House interviewed kids from the Los Angeles area about their experiences with bullying. These children shared their stories to encourange and empower everyone they meet, whether in person or online.

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