Being asked, to sum up, what little I’ve known of life into a question has proven to be much of a task but led to the pressing question of how racial profiling and bullying by my fellow classmates affected the social decisions I’ve made throughout my life. The story all begins with the decision to leave the warm, sunny, culture enriched island of Trinidad being made by my parents in early 2009. By June of the same year, I was in New York City enrolling in elementary school for the coming school year. I started the fourth grade in a new school, with new people, and a new culture. During my first month of school, I excelled and the class became boring for me. I topped the class and the principal decided to move me to the honors class. The following
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My horrible experience in elementary wound me deeply in a social aspect and result in me not relying on anyone in a group, or opening up to my fellow classmates. By seventh grade, the guidance counselor, and the vice principal informed my parents that the school had reached a decision to put me in therapy because I showed signs of under developing social skills. When given the chance to explain my actions, I tried to think of what to tell my parents, vice-principal, and counselor. I proceeded to explain that my quietness was not a lack of social skills but rather the personal interpretation I had on a quote said by Gandhi, “Speak only if it improves upon the silence.” I realized that I stumped everyone in the room and continued explaining that everyone in my grade was of black descent, so they had similar cultural backgrounds. I knew that the students either all spoke some form of French, or they all obsessed about whose weave was better than the other, and the boys were either joining gangs or getting into expelled, and I was intelligent enough to figure out that I could not contribute to their conversation. The truth was I did try to make friends but failed because the girls accused me of not being “black enough.” I explained that I interpreted not being “black enough” to mean that I did not understand their lingo or slang. I did not understand why when they greeted each other they hugged half way and had a whole handshake routine. I continued to explain that at this point in my education, I did not want to know what the students meant and I did not have the motivation to try and
My horrible experience in elementary wound me deeply in a social aspect and result in me not relying on anyone in a group, or opening up to my fellow classmates. By seventh grade, the guidance counselor, and the vice principal informed my parents that the school had reached a decision to put me in therapy because I showed signs of under developing social skills. When given the chance to explain my actions, I tried to think of what to tell my parents, vice-principal, and counselor. I proceeded to explain that my quietness was not a lack of social skills but rather the personal interpretation I had on a quote said by Gandhi, “Speak only if it improves upon the silence.” I realized that I stumped everyone in the room and continued explaining that everyone in my grade was of black descent, so they had similar cultural backgrounds. I knew that the students either all spoke some form of French, or they all obsessed about whose weave was better than the other, and the boys were either joining gangs or getting into expelled, and I was intelligent enough to figure out that I could not contribute to their conversation. The truth was I did try to make friends but failed because the girls accused me of not being “black enough.” I explained that I interpreted not being “black enough” to mean that I did not understand their lingo or slang. I did not understand why when they greeted each other they hugged half way and had a whole handshake routine. I continued to explain that at this point in my education, I did not want to know what the students meant and I did not have the motivation to try and