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Sunday, August 18, 2019

A Different Life :: essays research papers

A Different Life Silence came in seventh grade. It was in seventh grade that I began the first of six years at a private school. In those six years I realized that it was not only I who had lost their voice; I was one among many who were denied the opportunity to speak. I distinctly remember the first time they betrayed me and informed me that my voice was invalid. A close friend of mine from elementary school wanted to attend and I was telling others about him- telling them how neat he was. The three people whom I had felt I could trust- the headmaster, academic dean, and dean of students- cornered me and attacked me for things that I had supposedly said. They did not believe me when I pleaded my case, saying, "He is my friend. Why would I say such horrible things?" They three looked at each other, stuck their noses in the air and simply explained that it sounded like the kind of thing I would do. They did not know me. They had accepted a rumor as truth. They attacked me and disregarded my testimony. Unfortunately, this moment was merely the beginning of the silencing. It continued until the day I graduated. They condemned me for being curious and outspoken and lively. They shut me down for every brilliant idea I proposed, telling me that it was against the rules. I lived, quite literally, in this silence. I could not win by being myself, so I engulfed myself in obtaining their approval through silence and obedience. And I remember exactly what he said to me when I left. On June 4, 1999 my headmaster said to me, "Saint James has really changed you. You've really calmed down a lot. You've become a real lady." I finally gained his approval, but at what cost? Even then, when I was leaving, I could not find the voice to scream at him and tell him how deeply he had hurt me. I did not have the voice to tell him about all the pain he had brought me. I did not have the voice to tell him that I would have forfeited all of the "ladiness" I had gained over six years if I could have my voice back. Saint James taught me to bottle my emotions, because whenever I was open with them I would get in trouble.

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