No One Deserves This

Sixth grade was when I was first bullied, not just by one person, but my whole sixth grade class. I could not believe my own classmates that I called my “Friends” treated me the way they did. When the terrorist attack happened on September 11th, 2001 my whole life changed. I hated coming to school after that day. The people I called my friends called me names they would tell me “Go with your uncle Osama and blow up buildings”. I went home crying everyday because I was teased because of my race. I never teased anyone before and I wondered why my classmates were doing it to me. That was the first time I wished I could have been any other race but Indian. I hated being Hindu because I was made fun of almost every day for something “My uncle” did. I did not want to tell anyone because I did not want to be known as a “Snitch” and have my fellow classmates make fun of me.

One day my mom noticed I was crying and she asked me “Why are you so sad?” I wanted to tell my mom, but then again I did not because I knew it would just start more trouble for me at school. I just kept it to myself hoping that everyone would just get tired of teasing me. One month went by and my classmates still said “Ashima go back to your country and bomb something there”. Every time someone said that I felt like punching them in the face, but I did not want to get in trouble by my teacher or principle. I knew if I got into a fight with anyone I would have to explain why I did such a thing. I did not want to explain to them how I felt because they were adults and they would not understand. So I went to my sister and asked her what I should do because I was getting so tired of being made fun of and not being able to do anything about it. She told me “Ignore them and sooner or later they will stop”. She also told me “the less you pay attention to them the more they get frustrated because you are not reacting”. Therefore, I just kept my mouth shut and just ignored everyone then. I hoped my sister’s advice worked because if it did not I was going to have to tell someone and that’s something I did not want to happen.

I still hated going to school every morning I just wanted to drop out because I was so tired of being made fun of for something I had nothing to do with. No one even bothered to ask me if I was the same race as Osama bin Laden. Osama and I were not even part of the same culture, but yet my skin tone was the same as his so my classmate automatically assumed I was related to him. After two months went by, things started to cool down and my classmates stopped making fun of me. I guess they saw that I did not respond to what they were saying so they got bored and eventually stopped. I was glad I went to my older sister for advice because it worked and they finally stopped. I was so happy. My friends that I would always hangout with started to hang out with me again. I felt like my life was going back to the way it use to be before all the September 11th terrorist attacks happened.

I am still friends with those students that I had in sixth grade and when we got older they realized how much I did get hurt by them calling me names and teasing me because of my race. They have apologized to me and as the bigger person I did forgive them. I still talk to most of my classmates till this very day. I will never in my life ever forget about the tragedy that happened in New York on September 11th 2001. It changed my life forever.