Why the First Semester of Sixth Grade Sucked
(Or, Why I Hate We Are The World)
This Friday at noon, when supposedly hundreds of radio stations will be broadcasting We Are The World, I will be in my own personal hell. The song brings back a childhood memory that to this day, still makes me cringe.
When I was 11-years-old, my parents came up with the fabulous idea of moving our very happy and content family from a very familiar suburb of Detroit to an unfamiliar beach city in San Diego. I, being a popular and well-adjusted fifth grader, did not want to move. However, being a child, I didn’t have any say in that decision.
So, on my first day of sixth grade in San Diego, in an attempt to be cool and fit in with the other kids, I decided to wear something that was very fashionable and in style in Detroit–a pair of loud print shorts and a t-shirt that read We Are The World. This was the mid-80s, and the song was at the height of its popularity. And so was the fashion. At least in Detroit. Apparently not so much in San Diego.
I quickly became known as the We Are The World kid, and for months, everywhere I went at school, kids would point at me and sing portions of the song. It was mortifying. It was bad enough being the new kid in elementary school with a Midwest accent who said pop instead of soda; I didn’t need to be made fun of because of a t-shirt. Sadly, the teasing endured for the entire semester. Fortunately, due to reasons totally unrelated to the mockery, I, along with another new student, were transferred to the other local elementary school for the second semester. That’s when life in California began looking up.
I’d like to say the tormenting taught me how to be stronger or stick up for myself. But I don’t know if that would be true. What it did teach me is that tears can, at least for an 11-year-old, seem never-ending and that kids can be horribly cruel.
