The great man Bob Marley once said, “Get up, stand up, Stand up for your rights. Get up, stand up, Don't give up the fight.” Nothing will get done if you don’t at least try and fight for it. When something is taken away from you, you need to fight for it. Everyone has and deserves rights including the right to freedom of expression. This story shows my fight for freedom of expression. I remember back in 7th grade buying new shoes that were red, white, and black, with a touch of silver. Silver Nike symbols on each side of the shoe. The high top providing ankle support. The sole was white while the shoe was a crimson red with a black tongue. Fresh out of the box they had the great new shoe smell and I could not wait to wear them to school that
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Could he really do that to all of us after all the new shoes everyone had bought! Money our parents used to buy them went straight down the drain. I went through all the stages from disbelief, to sadness, to anger. Slowly over the coming weeks people’s shoe game began to get weak. Bland colors throughout the hall. Where was our sense of individuality. We all wore uniforms, couldn’t wear our hair many ways, our shoe game was the way we were different. Taking that away made many feel like robots. A select few, including me, decided not to conform. That mixed with the fact that our parents refused to buy new shoes made us stand out. After a month teachers began to punish those who didn’t wear the correct shoes. Some finally gave in and bought new shoes while others, myself included, did not care and continued to wear the shoes. We all knew the endgame, a meeting with the principal. That day finally came for about 15 of us. He started off kind and trying to be nice. But then he got serious. Telling us it was a serious offense to break the uniform code and said detention and possibly even suspension awaited those who continued. He then asked for our
Could he really do that to all of us after all the new shoes everyone had bought! Money our parents used to buy them went straight down the drain. I went through all the stages from disbelief, to sadness, to anger. Slowly over the coming weeks people’s shoe game began to get weak. Bland colors throughout the hall. Where was our sense of individuality. We all wore uniforms, couldn’t wear our hair many ways, our shoe game was the way we were different. Taking that away made many feel like robots. A select few, including me, decided not to conform. That mixed with the fact that our parents refused to buy new shoes made us stand out. After a month teachers began to punish those who didn’t wear the correct shoes. Some finally gave in and bought new shoes while others, myself included, did not care and continued to wear the shoes. We all knew the endgame, a meeting with the principal. That day finally came for about 15 of us. He started off kind and trying to be nice. But then he got serious. Telling us it was a serious offense to break the uniform code and said detention and possibly even suspension awaited those who continued. He then asked for our