As an 11 year old starting secondary school, I got bullied. I got beaten with sticks, punched and kicked. Not by the other kids, they were cool, but by the teachers.
The reason for this was because I turned up in a pair of light grey trousers while all the other pupils were wearing black trousers. I was taken aside and told that my attire was not part of the regulation uniform and not to turn up the next day wearing them.
So I went home and told to my Ma what the teachers had said and that I needed a pair of black trousers. She replied as only your Ma could,
“You’ll get no such thing. Be glad that you have a pair of trousers and I’m not sending you out with a bare arse like the black babies in Africa.”
These are probably not her exact words as it was quite a while ago, but you get the drift. She then produced the letter that the school had sent out regarding the school uniform and it did indeed say black or grey trousers. No amount of arguing on my part was going to get me a black pair and I was packed off to school the next day in my grey ones with the letter in hand.
Again I got singled out and stood at the front of the class to explain my non-compliance with their dress code. So I took the letter out and showed the teacher that what I was wearing was within the rules laid out and that I wasn’t going to be getting another pair anytime soon because my family couldn’t afford to buy me another pair after just one day’s use.
The teacher then pointed round the class that everyone else had the required uniform and why couldn’t I be like them. I said that I was like them, it’s just that my trousers were a different colour. Taking this as an affront to his authority, he started to belittle me and accuse me of being a troublemaker. Nothing could of been further from the truth. I wanted to fit in. I didn’t want to be seen as different. These kids were all new to me, as was the school and the town it was in.
And thats how it started. People in positions of authority picked on me, tried to belittle me and then just pretty much tried to beat me into submission and conformity from the age of eleven. But it didn’t work. I wore those grey trousers until they fell apart and I learned to stand out from the crowd with my head held high and take the beatings from my so called superiors.
They never won and from that day to this I still refuse to conform to sets of arbitrary rules made up by authorities to take away my individuality. And so should you.
Rise Up And Make Yourself Well.
Vote Crossan #1 on March 2nd.
When Injustice Becomes Law, Resistance Becomes Duty. 