[Cantholdmyrage]

I hated school ever since I was a preteen. I was mocked for my tics by other kids and boys teased me all the time. Even the teachers were very unkind to me. In most circumstances, I get frustrated with what someone tells me and I tell on the teacher, only for them to tell me not to be a tattletale. Meanwhile, when kids push my buttons enough to the point where I retaliate, I’m the one who gets in trouble. So apparently it’s ok for them to pick on me because “boys will be boys” but we’re not allowed to get angry or let them know that enough is enough.

One literature teacher got very angry with me in that situation and I begged her not to take me to the principal’s office. She shouted at me “this is not an option, young lady! March to the principal’s office right now!”. Nearly every single day, I was marched to the principal’s office for one reason or another. I even got reported to the police for some of the instances.

The first time was when I yelled at a boy after he won’t stop picking on me and a police officer forced me to apologize to him and his own mother yelled at me claiming he’s “just a sweet boy”. The other time was when another boy wouldn’t stop picking on me and he kept insulting me so much that I ended up slapping him on the back. And it wasn’t even a hard slap. And once again, I was forced to apologize to him and got yelled at by my parents and a police officer telling me that is going on my criminal records.

What was the point anyway? I was already treated as a criminal in my own school. I wasn’t trusted by the faculty and they made me come to school every day carrying a tracking sheet. It sucked because I was the only kid in my school to have this happen. I was hinted that my autism is considered bad behavior and I should behave as neurotypical as possible. I had to mask myself for so long that I began to believe that I was a bad person overall because of what I was diagnosed with.

There were several times that I had to erase the reports so I wouldn’t get into trouble. My parents ended up grounding me for over a month when they found out,

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and they beat me with a belt

and tried to take me to the police station. All of this was because I said a swear word in the bathroom and a little girl told on me. I hated her ever since. She was the reason my parents

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nearly beat me to death

and sent me to the police station.

I know what you might be thinking: why would I blame a little girl for something my parents had done to me? Simple, because people like her are bystanders and ignorant of the reality that many children were raised in abusive households.

My parents expected me to have at least a B+ in every school assignment, yet if I dare to go below it, they’ll lecture me or even punish me. So many times I try to cheat on tests to please my parents, but I end up getting caught anyway by the teachers and end up getting grounded anyway because cheating is wrong. Keep in mind this is coming from the same people who expect me to meet at a certain grade and they still wonder why I cheat?

This was especially bad with my geometry teacher. He was absolutely horrible. He insulted every classmate (especially me) and always distracted us from our work yet expects us to do well. I was the butt of the jokes and while the rest of the kids got A’s and B’s, I got very poor grades and barely passed with a D- by the end of the year. The teacher thought he was being cool by acting like a d*** and expecting us to be more polite than him. He also threw a bunch of off-topic questions that pissed me off. He acted out but when I did the same, I got in trouble. Apparently, it was ok for him to not do his job, but yet I’m still expected to behave.

Teachers would yell at me to stop screaming even though they know exactly what happened that got me upset in the first place, but instead of calling others out, I’m the one who gets in trouble. I wasn’t allowed to lie at all, because they think all lies are bad so corporal punishment is apparently acceptable.

I’m now having to live with years of trauma and still struggling to escape the abuse that I endured for all my life. My parents will still accuse me of lying even when I tell someone what happened regarding child abuse, because according to Xtian parents, child abuse is not real, it’s just “making bad children mind”. They’ll always tell me I can lie to whoever I want but “the truth is out there” and only THEY know the real truth and they can prove me wrong anytime. Actually, THEIR version of the truth.

The double standards were everywhere for people like me. And I hated every moment of it. I wasn’t allowed to have a normal teenage life because my parents sent me to a Xtian private school thinking it would protect me from drugs and alcohol,

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and most of all, black people. Yep, my parents are racist.

Now they’re complaining about “illegal immigrants” and “killing babies” (the Xtian translation of abortion) and justifying their own racism and misogyny

to the point where they just don’t care to be discriminatory.

I don’t want any advice or lecturing. I just want to get this off my chest.

[16PennyNail]

I can tell you that when I first came here and entered the school system, it was KIndergarten. It's strange sometimes how the world works, but the first kid I befriended here, and we are still friends all these years later, had a last name of Stiegler. Another of my best friends is Rhinehart. I was born on Rammstein Air Force base in Germany. I always think that is weird. My friend, Dr. Stiegler, a trauma surgeon now, used to stand and rock when conversing with him. Later, we had a seventh-grade civics teacher; he was old school. He would walk up and down the rows of students when he would lecture. If the now Dr. Stiegler was rocking, he would haul off and smack the heck from the top of his desk. I have always had bad nerves because of what I was going through then. He did that one day, and I got up, took it away from him, and threw it across the room. Everyone in the room began clapping; the Principal lectured me about it until my father showed up. I told him why I had done it, and the civics teacher got a reprimand and wrote up for it. I had to make all A's. I earned a B just once in high school, and my dad told me that a B was for bad. The school systems should have specialized educators trained and schooled to handle students. In the eighth grade, the science teacher would paddle me for something I did not do. I told him he was most certainly not. The Principal had learned his lesson and told the teacher I was the last person there who needed to be paddled. I did not experience any of your troubles; I am sorry they did that to you. If a teacher would have tried to hit me, my father was a force to be reckoned with. They avoided that at all costs, which was wise. I am so sorry that you should not have been treated that way.

[Cantholdmyrage]

Originally Posted by 16PennyNail

I can tell you that when I first came here and entered the school system, it was KIndergarten. It's strange sometimes how the world works, but the first kid I befriended here, and we are still friends all these years later, had a last name of Stiegler. Another of my best friends is Rhinehart. I was born on Rammstein Air Force base in Germany. I always think that is weird. My friend, Dr. Stiegler, a trauma surgeon now, used to stand and rock when conversing with him. Later, we had a seventh-grade civics teacher; he was old school. He would walk up and down the rows of students when he would lecture. If the now Dr. Stiegler was rocking, he would haul off and smack the heck from the top of his desk. I have always had bad nerves because of what I was going through then. He did that one day, and I got up, took it away from him, and threw it across the room. Everyone in the room began clapping; the Principal lectured me about it until my father showed up. I told him why I had done it, and the civics teacher got a reprimand and wrote up for it. I had to make all A's. I earned a B just once in high school, and my dad told me that a B was for bad. The school systems should have specialized educators trained and schooled to handle students. In the eighth grade, the science teacher would paddle me for something I did not do. I told him he was most certainly not. The Principal had learned his lesson and told the teacher I was the last person there who needed to be paddled. I did not experience any of your troubles; I am sorry they did that to you. If a teacher would have tried to hit me, my father was a force to be reckoned with. They avoided that at all costs, which was wise. I am so sorry that you should not have been treated that way.

I haven’t experienced any of your problems either. Still I’m very sorry for what happened.