How to make a six-year-old white girl try to jump out a school bus side window.

My childhood was filled with bullying. The sad part was it was from my own race. Not saying it would have been better if it was not, but trying to be brought down, at an early age, by your own race, really sucks! All because my skin was a darker tan, I was constantly reminded that I was different, unique, and even an outcast. The nicknames they taunted me with were highly creative, even though they are cool and commonplace, in today’s society. As I learned later, the ones that did it were only doing it to hide their own short comings. Some had bad breath, buck teeth, nappy hair, weight problems and many more things that were so apparent, to me, in my latter years. I would obliterate them in the dozens (word contest of insults), as I got older. That is why the cowards felt content to pick on a six-year-old rather than someone their own age. What losers! They know who they are. Shame on them. Today every Teacher, Bus driver, Principal or Caregiver would have brought them up on charges. But me, I had my brother and sister. They did not take no stuff off of anybody. I felt protected when they were around. They fought back. I love them so much for helping me through those tough years. The problem was when they exited the school bus, where most of the bullying took place, I had to fend for myself. Even though most of the main bullies left with my brother and sister, some remained. You see, they were in middle school, when I was beginning elementary school. The bus always let them off first. As we got older, my brother moved on to high school. Even though they did not mess with him so much. I guess it was because he had the look of Apophis from the Stargate tv series. They feared him. After he left, it was just my sister and me. This one day, my sister and I were getting bullied pretty bad. My sister was as tough as nails. She would have given Mike Tyson a run for his money. I can hear Howard Cosell now… “Down Goes Tyson! Down Goes Tyson!” And me? I was getting ready to deploy my three secrets weapons to get me out of any situation, stuttering, crying and lastly, the unspeakable, vomiting. As the bus pulled up to the middle school, I was sitting next to Louise, a little white girl in my class. As my sister got up to leave the bus, I begged her not to go or, at least, let me go with her. I deployed secret weapon number one, stuttering. Still, no joy. I deployed secret weapon number two, crying. I just got a look of sympathy. I deployed one and two together, but all I got was a headshake, no. I always carried a pleather book bag with me to school. It laid across my lap. As my sister exited the bus, I deployed secret weapon number three and vomited on top of my book bag. It sprayed out like a fire hose. The whole bus freaked out! I turned to Louise and said… “Here, hold this for me, please.” What? I said please. As I moved it over to her, the vomit teetered mostly in the middle, but some ran off the side. Louise immediately lowered the top of the two segmental school bus window and proceeded to try and squeeze out of it. She went wild, as she clawed and scratched at the window. She was yelling and screaming. My thoughts were “This white girl is going crazy.” Louise was still struggling to get out the side window, as the bus driver hurried back and pulled her back inside and took me, and my book bag, upfront to the trash can. The bus became quiet as the smell of vomit filled the air. The other kids were coughing and holding their noses. Again, secret weapon number three saved the day. I got to ride in the front seat all by myself and the bullying stopped. Well, at least for the rest of the ride to my school.