Previous Challenge Entry
Topic: Bullies (08/09/04)
|
TITLE: Long Hair, Thespians and the Tahliaban By Tahlia Merrill 08/14/04 |
 LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
SEND ARTICLE TO A FRIEND
|
“Because I like it long.” I growled. It was sixth grade, my first year at FHS and I wasn’t having a good time of it. He asked me the same stupid question every day, the entire year. He couldn’t even pronounce my name right!
“Pink is soooo lesbian.” He told me during our music appreciation class when he saw my magenta shirt. At the time, I had no idea what a lesbian was. I retaliated by dipping into my extensive vocabulary,
“Yeah, well blue is sooo…” I struggled to think of something “Thespian!” I shot back, proud that he obviously didn’t know what it meant. He rolled his washed out blue eyes and left me alone for a few minutes.
But the torture wasn’t over. In every class we had together, I had to guard my every word and action. Anything might be used against me. The year finally finished, and I prayed that he wouldn’t come back.
He did. This time, I decided to try a new strategy: Ignoring him. For a while, it worked. Then he decided that a one way conversation was better than silence. When I answered questions for the teacher, he would echo me.
“What a stupid thing to say, Tal-ya.” The teacher never heard him and I tried not to either.
9/11 loaded him with a whole new arsenal.
“Oooh, you better be careful,” He warned his friends. “Or the Tahliaban will get you!” I actually found it kind of funny, but I was too proud to do anything but hide my smile behind a glare. The humor wore off when he hit me with that nickname for months upon end. Finally, my social studies teacher heard him say it.
“Don’t call her the Tahliaban unless you want us to start calling you Osama BEN Laden!” Mr. Cathcart told him sternly. Ben fell silent. I gloated.
When I had to recite a poem in English class, I almost died. I knew that he would have a snide comment ready, even if I didn’t mess up. I was so nervous, I forgot half of the poem and retreated to my desk in a humiliated defeat.
When I told my parents about my troubles, they came to the rescue. They talked with the principal about my problem. When that didn’t solve things, they talked to Ben’s parents about it. According to his parents, this wasn’t the first time he’d given somebody a hard time. A week later, his parents took him out of school and I could finally walk the halls in peace.
Eighth grade came and Ben was back. But instead of teasing me every day, he didn’t say anything to me. He was a “Humble Tigger”, as my mom put it. Our lockers were right next to each other and I was always wary of him springing something on me. After a few months of silence, I figured he’d given up. Then, it happened.
“Hey, Tahlia, what homework do we have tonight?” I paused and stared at him. What was this, some kind of trick?
“Umm,” I flipped open my planner. “English, of course and social. That’s all I think. Oh, and don’t forget that vocab is due on Friday.”
“Got it,” He cheerfully patted his backpack. “Thanks.” Then, he ran off to catch his bus. My mouth dropped down to the floor. Ben Hatalla had said something civil to me!
Luckily, that wasn’t the last time it happened. Homework checks soon became a regular routine and I stopped pleading with the teachers not to sit me next to him. When another poem recitation came around, I gave mine with the confidence that those rubber bands weren’t being aimed at me. With time, we almost became friends. When he found a magnet in the hall, he threw it at his locker. It stuck.
“From now on, this will be a tradition.” He told me. “The ritual of tossing the magnet!”
At the end of the year, I cleaned out my locker in preparation for summer vacation. When I was all done, I turned to Ben
“Well, see ya next year.” I slammed my locker shut.
“I’m not coming back next year.” He told me as he pocketed the magnet that he had faithfully flung at his locker everyday that year.
“Oh,” I said. “Well, I’ll miss you.”
And to my surprise, I meant it.