they pay to kiss your feet

since there's no one else around, we let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know. then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow.

Sunday, May 22, 2005

An open apology

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much I sucked in grade school. Really sucked. It’s hard enough trying to get good grades while staying cool and fun and popular. That, alone, is more than most kids can handle. So why then did I have to take it upon myself to make some other kids’ lives a living hell? Maybe I’m projecting a bit. Because in fifth grade, I was the class loser. But then, as soon as I regained my cool status, it became my objective to stay there. And in the process, I walked all over people. So Tara and Cantrell and Angie, I’m sorry.

I feel horrible for the times I laughed under my breath at your clothing choices, your lunch food choices and your hairstyles. I’m sorry for going along with all the other kids when they laughed at you and made you feel small and undesired and unworthy. I’m sorry for how wrong that was and if I could, I’d apologize for all of the kids. Not just for me. But, this will have to suffice for now.

I’m sure that an apology can’t take away the scars we caused. You probably had to deal with those for a long time. Everyone has scars and bleeding and places that are just a bit more tender than others, but we caused your scars. And for that, I am deeply sorry.

I pray, and I mean pray, that you have been able to get past the damage we did and that you have found true friends and acceptance and grace and love. And I hope to see you all again one day and to apologize again, in person. Because no kid, no matter how awkward and uncool deserves to be bullied and laughed at and made an outcast. You didn’t deserve that. You are worth more than that. I hope that life has been kinder to you than we were.

Love,
Jessi

1 Comments:

  • At 12:05 AM, Blogger Jill Draper said…

    That brought tears to my eyes because as a child I was one of the outcast from fourth grade until eighth grade. And it really hurt. It Really Hurt. But to know that adulthood brings perspective and regret and the potential for amends. I believe that those mean girls are sorry they did what they did and wouldn't do it again. Thanks for giving me my forgiving of them. I hadn't realized I was still holding on to it.

     

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