I'm Me

My Day

The halls of my high school were loud and crammed, but I was able to manage. I didn't mind crowded spaces too much, but I couldn't stand loud noise.

However, I would be scared of people looking at me and laughing, because I wouldn't want them to make fun of me. I had a hard time dealing with bullies.

I hadn't done anything to those kids, so how could they be mean to me?

I guess people don't like what they don't understand. I may have autism, but I'm not a baby. Sometimes I feel like people treat me like a little kid, and it makes me feel bad about myself because I know how to act. I studied in normal classes beside the math class, which helped me get better at the subject. Other than that, I got good grades.

I'm a good person, not a bad one. Making people around me happy and enjoying being around me is important to me.

As I walked down the hallway, my hands began shaking and I became paralyzed.

Rachel reassured me that nobody's laughing at me. "But what if they make fun of my outfit again?" "But what if they make fun of my outfit again?" The thought sickened me.

"Then that's not your problem, it's theirs," she said. "Yeah, that's right." I nodded. "Don't listen to the jerks, because they are so unhappy with their own lives," she informed me. "That's kinda dumb, I've never understood why people do that," I was catching my breath to calm my mind. "That one's a mystery we'll probably never solve." said Rachel.

The bell rang, signaling the time to start our next class. Drama class was my favorite course of the day; I love singing and performing. In addition, I'm also an excellent singer in our school choir. Singing took away all the stress of my day and let me escape into the music. People were surprised that I never got the lead in the school plays, even my friends who always did. The fact that I didn't get into the elite choir that year was bad enough. I've only made the concert choir so far.

"One day, Julia. You'll be the leading lady," my guy friend Mark told me during choir. "I hope so," I said modestly. "Ms. Parker is crazy for not considering your talent," said another friend named Hannah.

Everybody at our school had a love-hate relationship with Ms. Parker, our drama teacher, because she was either incredibly nice or incredibly mean. As a failed Broadway actress, Alice Parker moved into teaching high school theatre, but she's bitter about it. She also had two failed marriages. Every production we put on, she'd give her favorite students the lead roles. Every time we brought it up to her, she denied it and expressed her confusion about why we thought that.

Regardless of whether she was being honest, she wasn't the warmest person no matter who talked to her. Her feedback after every audition was offered to those who wanted it, but she warned us to be ready to receive it. This was because she gave frank feedback about it and did not feel one ounce of remorse about it. I never took her up on that offer because of that very reason. During class, a person from the year above me reminded her she was being too mean about it, and she was curtly instructed to "grow thicker skin."

In the last musical we were doing, Ms. Parker felt that none of us were practicing hard enough for a dance number, so she gave us a surprise test to see who could continue to be in the number. If you didn't pass, you were dropped. Those in her entourage of favorites would even bet on who would be eliminated. This was how Ms. Parker would get her sick kicks, but pitting high school students against each other. Because I have bad anxiety, hearing about it backstage caused me to become nervous, and so when I went outside to get some fresh air, I cried because I was so worried. I would be among the casualties to be cut from the number, but then I was moved to the very back.

Someone overheard me crying and snitched on me to the teacher. After a break, Ms. Parker told me she wanted to talk to me privately. I didn't think twice about it and met with her before we ran the show again.

Then, she did something that I wasn't expecting, she put her hands on my shoulders and spoke in a mean tone, "Julia, you need to get thicker skin and pull yourself together." I didn't reply because of how shocked I was. Teachers were not supposed to touch students and they were supposed to lift us up, not tear us down. I was triggered by her severeness in her voice, and since I dislike being touched due to my disability, that moment was extremely scary to me. You may say I was being overly sensitive, but I felt like I was in danger.

I was in complete fear because of how mean she could be, but I worked hard like everyone else and practiced on my own schedule. I replied, "But, Ms. Parker. I'm trying my best." in a soft voice. The teacher made me feel small and insignificant. My hands were shaking.

"Then you need to stop acting like the victim and be the Julia that I know you are. So stop crying and get yourself together." her grey eyes narrowed as she said this. Ms. Parker then smiled, and I realized she was trying to play it off as her being nice to me and trying to help me; if that was the case, then she definitely had a weird way of showing it. That wasn't a teacher trying to help a student who had no self-confidence, that was a borderline abusive adult making a teenager feel awful about herself and not feeling sorry about it.

Anyway, back to how today's class went:

"Okay, so we have a lot to do today," Ms. Parker would always say that at the beginning of class. It seemed like we would always have a lot to do. I took my usual seat next to Rachel and got ready to listen to what our teacher had to say.

"We are going to work on building the set for Beauty and the Beast, but I'll be working on blocking with a couple of you," she announced. A low murmur erupted through the class, and that would set her off and make her mad. "Did I say you could start talking?!" her eyebrows furrowed in anger. It always freaked me out at how badly things would set her off. We could do nothing but shake our heads.

"Julia, what did I say?" she asked me in front of the whole class. I looked at my desk in shock and then I made the effort to make eye contact with her, "That we are going to build the set for the show and you'll be working on blocking with some of us." I told her as best I could. "See, even Julia is smart enough to pay attention and not talk while I'm talking." her words stung. I had no idea what I had done to her to make her see me as the target to take her anger out on. I wasn't the only person in the ensemble to face the teacher's wrath: sometimes it would be Rachel, or Megan, Hannah, Mark, and Glenna. For some weird reason she hated the group of us, but we never did anything wrong. We referred to her as Medusa, because her intense gaze could turn anyone to stone.

A few of the leads were receiving their blocking while the rest of us worked hard on the set. We were having our doubts about how this show would go, because it seemed like Ms. Parker was biting off more than she could chew. However, if anything went wrong in the show, then she would find some way to blame us.

I knew I would have to work harder to get a leading role. I wasn't going to let Ms. Parker tell me otherwise.