Undergraduate /
Bullying: University of Texas - Issue of Importance ('too much Animal Planet') [4]
Thanks so much! Here's an edited version:
I have a confession: I watch far too much Animal Planet...and Dance Moms, and
sometimes Cake Boss, but my guilty pleasures are beside the point. I spend
copious amounts of hours watching Animal Planet and, at times, I imagine my
life is narrated by an Australian man.
My freshman year, I was an antelope. My eyebrows needed to be waxed, I had food
in my braces more than I didn't, and my choices in attire were questionable,
but I was reasonably normal, albeit a little quirky. I had friends, I was on
the junior varsity volleyball team as a freshman (a noticeable accomplishment
at Frisco High), and I was involved in several organizations. Though I tried to
hide it, I was quiet and a little insecure. I kept under the radar when it came
to "mall-crawls" and movie nights; I usually sat silently and observed my
friends dance around me with their secret Myspace accounts and Razr cell
phones.
Unfortunately, my silence did not go long overlooked. Antelope rarely go their
entire lives without encountering a lion, and mine came in the form of a short,
scrawny, baseball-playing blonde riding the afternoon bus.
At a mere five-foot-three, the predator spots his prey from across the
premises. He calls out to the tall creature - beacons, if you will - in order
to reel her in for an after-school snack. Once eye contact is made and the prey
remains unresponsive, the predator whisks into the seat next to her. He quickly
checks his surroundings, insuring that the other members of his pack can watch
him triumphantly strangle the feeble animal.
"You know, I didn't realize someone could resemble a horse so much. You are
honestly the ugliest person I've ever seen. I'm just saying what everyone
thinks."
The small warrior's pack cries out in joy, for their leader has quickly and
successfully belittled his prey. His swagger shows as he marches back to his
homeland, but he can't help but turn around and sink his teeth in for one last
juicy bite.
"Honestly, no one would care if you were dead. You should have killed yourself,
like, yesterday."
The routine would be repeated time and time again. I always sat quietly and let
the harsh words reign over me. I never triumphantly fought back; there was
really no glory moment for the "hideous" girl on the back of bus 32. Though I
wish I had said something clever and put him in his place, the situation has
brought me ideas and inspiration.
I once read that 2.7 million children are bullied each year. That means there
are 2.7 million other little antelope like me having insecurities drilled into
their brain for them; being told they are not and never will be good enough.
Having experienced the inner turmoil that comes along with harassment, I see
where the jumble of insecurities and tear-stained pillows come from. I am now
passionate about bullying, and would love to work for a non-profit organization
that focuses on assisting children who are pushed to a breaking point; children
who are overlooked on their own bus rides home. Every traumatic situation is
made better when surrounded by others, and if those bullied have a safe haven
to completely open up to - whether it be a website, or a television program,
or a phone number - they could realize that the harsh words don't last forever.
There are people who care about the antelope who watches a questionable amount
of Animal Planet. There are people who find her beautiful. There is a reason to
go on.