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The writings below are from Fresno students who responds to the questions, "What are names you have been called?
ÒStupidÓ. That's what my mom called me once when she got mad at me. That day, she told me to cook some rice and I did not do it right. I was 15 years old. I didn't really know how to cook. She was still teaching me. That day, I tried my best because I wanted to show her I was learning how to cook. Even if I did the best I could, everything came out wrong at the end. My mother got angry and she told me I was Òvery stupidÓ because I couldn't even make rice. When she gets mad, she says whatever comes to her mind. I am the kind of person who forgives anyone no matter how bad they have hurt me. The problem is I cannot really forget what that person did to me. I love my mom, but it really hurt me when she called me that. I cannot forget that word. I still remember I cried so much. I felt sad too. No one, none of my family has ever said anything like that before to me. My dad would never say that to me, not even my brothers. They respect me. The reason why I felt so bad and sad was because she is my mom. It is not really the word or what it means. For me, what matters is who said it. I don't think a person is stupid just because that person can't get something done right. It is just a mistake, and they mess up. ÒStupidÓ is a word I would never like to hear from my mom ever again. This word really hurt my feelings. ÒThe Incident That Made Me More Responsible & MatureÓ When I was younger, my sister called me a n****. She had never called me that name before, until my uncle moved from molesting me to molesting my sisters, and my sister blames me for that. All of that happened to me for sixteen years and to my sisters for about three years. After that incident, my sisters and I have argued a lot more than usual. Then one day, my sister and I were arguing, and out of nowhere, she calls me a n****. It hurt my feelings at first. When she first called me a n****, I cried because I get called that at school, and I really didn't need my sister calling me racial names at home too. The next time she used that racial name, I told my parents, and they sat all of us down and made us watch a movie 'bout racism. The movie was called American History X. This movie showed how saying racial comments and being racist to people can affect everyone's life, and not just your own or theirs. After watching the movie, we apologized to each other for everything, and my sister stopped calling me a n****. Over the years, I have realized I have become responsible and even more mature than when I was younger and when I had to deal with racial comments. Like now, for example, when somebody calls me a n****, or says mean and hurtful things to me, I just turn around and ignore them. Even though it might hurt my feelings, it just lets me know they are really trying to make themselves feel better, because they don't like themselves.
ÒI Ain't Funny All the Time!Ó ÒAriel hecka goofy.Ó That's all I hear people say. All my friends look at me like I'm the girl version of Jamie Foxx. On the real, nobody takes me serious. You should hear my nicknames around my school: ÒGigglesÓ, ÒAirbearÓ, ÒMiss Smile-A-LotÓ, ÒTwinkle ToesÓ, ÒBrace FaceÓ, ÒSkinny MinnieÓ, and last but not least, ÒLittle ArielÓ. Now see, with them kind of nicknames, I don't even take myself seriously. While sitting on the benches at school one day, I said to my group of friends, ÒHey ya'll, why don't I get no nicknames like ÔCrush em' or ÔBig A'?Ó That's when they said, ÒFirst of all, you ain't big, and second of all, who would you be fighting?Ó So, the next thing you know, everybody's laughing, and I'm just thinking like ain't that a blimp, if that's what they think of me, I guess I ain't gotta hold nothing back at my serious times and just say it, and if they wanna laugh, sure, but I'ma be serious. One day, this girl named Jessica, who also calls me ÒSkinny MinnieÓ, which I hate, was walking through the school office, and was like ÒHey Skinny MinnieÓ. Me having respect gave a little ÒheyÓ back, but then the girl wanna stay and chat, so we were talkin', and when she finally left, she was like ÒBye Skinny MinnieÓ and then that's when I was like Òbye wench!Ó She did a cute little laugh, while walking away, but I was serious. Come on folks, I'm skinny, ha ha, whatever, get it out of your system. There's no need to crack the jokes or say the names anymore. You know, I'm really not even that skinny. I wear a size 5 or 7 pants in the juniors department! And people be getting on me like I'm a size negative zero. Seriously, that girl gets on my last nerve. She lucky she don't go to my school no more, cause I would've told her about herself like, ÒJessica you know you not right, bustin' out that size medium shirt like a can of biscuitsÓ, or ÒJessica you need to take that lip gloss off lookin' like some powdered milk punched you in yo' lipÓ. I could go on and on about that girl, but I ain't about to waste another breathe on her. So basically, class clowns got feelings too, and I mean come on, can you really be thinking that I'm joking with you all the time? I guess if they can't get that out of their head, one day when you realize, you know I think Ariel be intentionally rankin' on me, and ya dang skippy! Why Misjudge a Person You Don't Know? What bothers me most is when people misjudge Living an Honest Life Sandy, 17 I remember a time when I used to lie, cheat, and steal Ð when I was a child, most people wouldn't trust if I knew what I was doing. I was so young, a child still with no sense of consequences Ð no worries. I was carefree Ð I was a child. A troubled child who didn't know right from wrong. A child who was self- centered. In my days, I learned that people say hurtful words, helpful words as they come and go. That, I learned so many years ago. One day, I learned the most important part of life. Truth, honesty, and respect. That night, my older sister accused me of doing a mischievous deed in which I didn't commit. It hurts Ð when someone who has the same blood as you do cannot even trust your words. I remembered my anger, betrayal, frustration, and our broken relationship. I told the truth Ð but I just couldn't atone for my thousand sins. After that, I tried to prove my innocence towards her my forgotten childish innocence and my unbroken determination. I proved my innocence some how. But I could never forget my feelings then. And I try my best to ignore those feelings now. After proving myself towards my sister, I started to live an honest life. Or at least try to. I understand that there's a time to lie and there's a time for truth. But even so, I trust people to make their own right decisions so everyone can benefit. If you trust someone Ð in return, they will trust you. It's up to them to tell the truth from a lie. But it's up to you to believe them until they decide. I learned that quality from my own experience with untruthful issues and lies. And yes, I still think about all those times and wish I could go back in time to correct myself.
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