When I was six, I had my first bout with rage. I was made fun of pretty frequently by adults and children alike. My mother and father told me to just ignore it, keep walking, pretend you don’t hear it. I became very skilled at keeping a straight face. My brother Chris, rarely ignored the taunting. His rage and physical brawn scared a lot of kids away. School was not so bad in the beginning.
My brother graduated from our first school after my kindergarten year, but his presence still loomed large. Chris was a legend and as his parting gift to me, he appointed an incoming fifth grader as my bodyguard. But, there were circles where my brother’s influence was not felt. It may be hard for you to believe, but my brother, the sensitive jock, was not a legend in the Girl Scouts. So, I was on my own, with my poker face.
One Saturday, Mrs Kissel (our leader) drove the entire troop in her giant station wagon to the park for a swap meet. If memory serves, our troop’s craft was pencils with feathers glued on them. We arrived at the park super early, so we ran around the park playing tag until it was time for the swapping to start.
When the swapping time was upon us, Mrs Kissel called us back to get ready. The other girls in my troop ran ahead. It was morning and I was not really into running that early, so I walked back. While I was slow poking it back, a girl near my age, but not with the Scout’s, took the opportunity to approach me.
Girl: You a midget?
I didn’t answer or look at her. I kept my head pointed forward and walked straight towards the swap meet.
Girl: You a midget?
My gaze never wavered from the other girls. The questioning was relentless.
Girl: You a midget?, You a midget?, You a midget?, You a midget?
We were locked in a battle of wills. Two elementary school students competing for mental superiority. Her face grew angrier each time she asked the question and I continued to give her no response. My face was locked in poker mode. The girl repeated “You a midget,” so many times, it started to sound like a song. It was very Alanis Morisette before Alanis Morisette was Alanis Morisette.
You a midget? You a midget? You a midget? Hey, hey you a midget!
The swap meet was so close and yet so far away. The other girls were getting their crafts out, preparing to start the swap. I started to get angry. I didn’t want this chick ruining the swap meet for me. I felt the heat rise up in my body. I clenched my fists and stopped walking. What happened next surprised me and the girl. I opened my mouth and bellowed with all my power.
SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUUUTTTTTT UPPPPPPPPPPP
I could feel all the blood rush to my head. The Girl jumped back in shock. I saw the fear in her eyes. The swap meet went silent and I was suddenly really exhausted. The little girl got her bearings back and said, “Oooooooooo, I am going to beat you up, I am going to beat you!”
Mrs Kissel came walking towards me and said “Come here.” Relieved that I was being rescued from a potential beat down, I ran behind her, breaking my no running in the morning rule. Mrs Kissel walked over to the girl and said “Leave.” The little girl stood at the edge of the swap meet for a couple minutes glaring at me. I got out my pencils and the swap meet went on as planned. No one discussed what happened, but everyone was a little less joyful. The mood of the swap meet had changed. Well, I don’t know that for certain, it could have been a crappy swap meet. Are there good swap meets?
Hi Cara, I just read the cnn story today. It says you have degrees in political science, theatre, and photography, but you are also such an excellent writer. Thanks for the wonderful stories that show the strength of your spirit. You are an inspiration to me. I have bookmarked your blog and will be checking in often to enjoy your writing.
Thank you so much!
Me too!
Hey Miss Cara……love your stories of personal courage and strength..! We are are all created in His image, so you are perfect, and perfectly beautiful.
Keep being “You”. Beautiful you?
I read your article on CNN and that is how I got here. (Well written by the way)
Growing up in a different culture, different country, I got ridiculed by the kids but not adults (small mercies and all that) however adults did had a habit to make me feel uncomfortable fairly frequently with their questions.
It’s mostly shame I felt never rage. Maybe rage was a good outlet but I didn’t knew any better and it made me extremely introvert which has its own set of problems.
Just read your story on CNN. Enjoyed,will follow your blog, my short legs have given me 69 years of stares and comments. Still hurts some times.
Hi, Bob,
I have rather short legs, too, so i can relate. I love Cara’s blog. She sounds like a terrific gal.
I really enjoyed your story on CNN. You’re writing is beautiful and amazing, just like yourself.
Hello Miss Cara, thank you for revealing your thoughts and experiences. Giving voice to what is inside of us is so so important. The one thing that I’ve never written or talked about are the mean comments, stares and whispers I got because I had such bad acne. In a fight with my sister she hurtled the fact in my face that everyone called me algae face. Even my own siblings made fun of me. Still very painful to this day.Thank you for sharing your story.
Hi Cara – Great article on CNN. It does take a while for some of us to accept and find a comfortable place with who we are. It struck a chord with me. I’m not your classically handsome guy (we’ll leave it at that…LOL!). There were many (male and female) who made sure to remind me of that over the years. It took some time for me to develop a sense of self-worth and self-confidence but it made me a better person in the end. Now, nearly 60, I still remember the barbs and the faces of those who said them, but…I can laugh them off. Glad you seemed to have found that place for yourself. Thanks for writing that piece!
Great article on CNN!
Dear Cara,
Reading your story brought tears and laughter to me. I can relate to your experiences. I have identical twin daughters and one twin has vitiligo. It’s such a struggle trying to be sure that my daughter is confident and secure. I feel so bad that I can’t protect her from this cruel world of stares and teasing. Not mention identical twins are often compared. My daughter exhibits confidence on the surface but it what’s inside that I to be sure her heart isn’t broken. I share many stories like yours with her so she knows that she is not fighting ignorance alone. God Bless you and you are and amazing woman inside and out. Sincerely Inez J Sanders
Beautiful CNN article. If only we lived in a universe where people’s souls were on the outside and their bodies were hidden. Your story is inspiring and you are inspiring. Much love.
Dear Cara,
What a wonderful story. I think it will strike a chord with everybody in some way. I’m 4’8″ and a little short in the legs. I had to deal with some other issues growing up as well–low vision and thin hair, and I had to learn to surmount occasional negative comments. Actually, I’ve always had a positive body image, and I turned out pretty well.. I’ll enjoy reading your blog from now on.
There are no good swap meets. I just looked up the word; it is of echoic origin and comes from the German for the sound that a “resounding blow” makes. So at least now I understand why people at swap meets are almost uniformly belligerent.
Hahaha, I love that you looked it up. This was the first and last swap meet I ever attended. I ended up with a pencil with some fur on it. Not worth going.
One of my new mottos is “Do No Harm, But Take No Shit.” I think that fits with this story.
On a related note: I lasted about 6 weeks in Brownies. One week our craft was making a doll out of a washcloth and a clothespin and I just decided I was done.