When I was in high school I was the weird kid. I went to a small school in the deep south. I liked to read, and draw, but I was known as the weird girl because I was pale, overweight, painfully shy and I never spoke. I suffered from severe allergies and smaller-than-normal nasal passages, which forced me to breathe through my mouth. I would try to do it quietly but I was still bullied ruthlessly for all this.
I remember one particular incident in art class. I shared a table with three black students who always picked on me about something or other. Every day. Teacher would scold them, but they would always start again. She never sent them to the office, she never moved me to another table. This day the project was to draw animals. I drew tigers. I was naive, I admit. When the guy at the table asked me, “So, you like cats?” instead of ignoring him, I nodded and even smiled a little, since it seemed he was trying to actually have a normal conversation. He went on to shout, “Yeah, you like pussies!” and then they spent the rest of the class joking loudly and telling everyone I was gay, which isn’t the case. It was a stupid immature joke but I was so horrified by it and the attention it brought, and I blamed myself for answering the question in the first place.
I loved art but I hated the class because of those jerks. There was another day they asked to borrow my colored pencils- my expensive, professional grade colored pencils- and I refused, because 1) these people were always mean to me, so why should I share? and 2) the pencils were very expensive and I had spent some hard earned money on them, I wasnt about to lend them to ANYONE. But the jerks turned it around, calling me racist, making a big fuss.
This was ten years ago, but I still think about it. Just goes to show you bullying does make a big impact and it can damage you for life.