Monday, April 2, 2012

Day 12

Day 12 - The person you hate most/caused you a lot of pain

I do not hate (because hate is a very strong word) the person I am about to mention, but she did caused me an ample amount of pain.

Before I go on, I should clarify that I went to two different kindergartens when I was little. One mainly focusing on English and another Chinese in the afternoon. I went to a Chinese primary school as well so I suppose you could say that I was/am Chinese-educated.

It dawned upon me that in Chinese kindergartens as well as primary schools (I don't speak for all, of course) that the teachers are very apparent with their favorite students in class. They do not even try to conceal their favoritism. I know everyone is subjected to have favorites, no matter what. Well, unfortunately for me, I was never one of teachers' favorites.

I resented my Chinese kindergarten and I loathed my Chinese primary school as well, especially the first three years of my primary years. Students were divided according to their academic grades/level and I was put in the second class. (Out of six classes, which means I was pretty bright eh? HAHA.)

Reasons to why my childhood schooling experience was awful? I was constantly picked on, I was shunned out by classmates and the teachers were biased and made it so obvious with who they favored more. Perhaps the teachers never realized or took notice of the effects of their tangible favoritism. It is true that little kids tend to pick up on the behavior of adults and the obscure messages their actions might send. If you are teacher, students are supposed to look up to you and take after you. If you exhibit evident favoritism and treat a student you may not prefer differently, his or her classmates will treat the student differently as well. They will pick on her, shun her out and refuse to mingle with her. I say so because I was always the outcast and until this day, I remember every single one of them who shunned me out or picked on me.

I am not one to hold grudges. I forgive, but I do not forget. I remember the people who were adamantly mean to me when I was young.

I particularly remember the teacher's face who slapped me across the face when I was merely nine years old. I was only nine, I was still a child then. I attempted to apologize to her for not completing my homework because I remembered her saying, 'if you're lazy and you did not complete your work, at least have decency to apologize' during one class. In my meek attempt to apologize to her, she slapped me and humiliated me in front of my classmates because she could not hear me properly.

My face did not bruise, but the trauma of the slap burned into my memory and scarred my innocence for life.

My parents hardly ever resorted to physical beating to discipline me and I can easily recall the times they did. Therefore, I won't and can't forget. I can't forget the humiliation and the burning heat on my cheek then.

I will never forget her face. The mole on one side of her cheeks. Her dark, tanned skin. Her unruly hair just above her shoulders. If I ever get to see her once more, I will let her know that I forgive her for her act of frustration, but I will never forget the pain she inflicted on me.

Reliving the memory still brings tears to my eyes. This is eleven years later.