Ten days ago, two teachers in South Carolina were dismissed for giving a student an award for being “Most Likely to Not Pay Attention.” The student has ADHD.

The two teachers were dismissed once school officials were notified. They will go on to other jobs in other places and they’ll carry on. But what about the 14 year old girl? How does she erase the humiliation? How can she process what even mature adults are unable to understand?

The 8th grade Tea

Reading the story, no longer am I an adult. Instead I’m back at Byford School at our 8th grade tea.

I’m so excited to be here with mom. We hardly ever get to spend time together — just her and I.

Looking around I see familiar faces with their moms. I feel nervous. I mean, no one has ever met my mom. Everyone is dressed up, with their smiles all in place.

For months we looked forward to this event. It’s all we heard about when we were in the lower grades. Being an eighth grader is everything. We wear ribbons that we get our friends to autograph, we have autograph books our friends will sign the last couple of days. Mine is white with colored pages and it zips closed so my brothers and sister can’t peek. I love being in 8th grade.

And here we are at the tea. Someone steps up to the podium.

“And now, without further adieu I’d like to present the class president for our next segment.”

Kenneth Dobson

I remember him way back in 3rd grade. He was always one of the smartest kids in class. I remember so many of their names. There was Janet, Mary Ann, Debbra…

“It’s time to announce what our class will bequeath to the 7th graders.” Everyone quiets down wondering what they will say. I start shifting in my chair.

My turn

My last name is Gollias, so I won’t have long to wait. I’m right.

“And Anne Gollias will bequeath…” I take a deep breath, “… her long fingernails.”

My face feels like its on fire. I can feel everyone looking at me. But more importantly my mom heard what they said. Instinctively I close my hands and slide them into my lap. I just want to disappear.

What’s worse? What they said, or the laughter? It’s true. My nails aren’t long like my sister Peggy’s nails. She didn’t bite hers. But I thought no one knew. Now everyone does.

Why is it when words hurt they just hang in the air?
I see people’s mouths moving, but I hear nothing in particular, just muffled laughter. I just want to get out of here.

What will we become?

Finally, the finale of the afternoon. It’s time to hear what we are most likely to become in the future. Do I hope this will be better? No. I have no hope.

Once again, the torture is not long in coming.

“And Anne Gollias is most likely…”

My heart is beating so loudly, I’m sure it’s going to burst out of my chest. Do 8th graders ever have heart attacks? I don’t know, but even if they don’t, maybe I will be the first.

“…to become the director of a blind dates club.”

Once again I hear laughter. And once again my face burns and my tears start sliding down. I can’t even look up.

Harsh reality

All this time I felt I had made the adjustment to my school okay. That somehow I was accepted and one of them. Even though I knew we were different. I have strict parents and we are from the greek culture, so I even have private greek lessons.

I thought they had accepted me, but I was wrong. They pretended to accept me, but today I learned a different story. I’ve never been one of them.

They kind of match up with each other. This girl is going with that boy. It doesn’t mean anything, but it’s what they do. But not me.

To be honest, I’m still not sure what a blind date director is, but I know it wasn’t a compliment.

I say nothing to my mom on our short walk home. What is there to say? May she was embarrassed too.

Life goes on

For a very long time, I resented my graduation class. Then one day, as an adult sharing that memory, someone responded.

“That was the administration’s fault. They should never have allowed any of those things to be said.”

So, I’m praying for that 14 year old girl. Praying that she will be surrounded by people who love and support her. Praying that she will feel safe enough to one day talk about it. And praying that one day she can forgive those who were unkind. It’s hard, but possible.

As kids, we learned ‘Sticks and stones can break your bones, but words will never hurt you.’ Obviously they’ve never gotten an award.