My time attending schools

My school days were anything but educational. Since my sister being in and out of the hospital, I had been enrolled in my schools. I believe I had attended roughly around three to five schools within a year and a half.

It couldn't be helped honestly. You could only attend the school within the zone your house resided in, and because we were on government assistance we could only have one residence, and they got to choose which area you lived in, and not all properties accepted the stipend so that limited our location even more. But after a while, we managed to find a stable home.

I had attended school not far from the house. Which was very convenient for my mother. When I enrolled, I was in a split class. One was for "regular" kids, and the other was a class for those who lacked education. It was a class that was to help you catch up with the rest of the class, however very little "education" was involved.

The program was supposed to provide extra help with students with learning disabilities, but it was more for a place where kids who either had a disability, or were troublemakers went. We would sit around and work on writing exercises or would just talk about whatever was on our minds. It didn't do much for anyone academically.

Many people knew of my sister's condition, but very few knew what we endured. Because our family was poor, many families had taken pity on us, and of course kids were cruel and ruthless. I was constantly teased and mocked. I had a few kids I was close to, whom I thought were friends turned out to be anything but. I didn't learn about this until my middle school years.

During my fifth-grade year, we had what we called a D.A.R.E. contest. We would write essays about what we wanted to be when we grow up and how drugs could affect us. I wrote about my time at the hospital, and how I wanted to be a nurse helping infants who were born with drugs in their system.

I wondered through the maternity ward quite often, and this is where I had learnt much of that world. I often saw a lot of infants die because of this. I hardly ever spoke my time at the hospital because I had night terrors and never wanted to relive those moments.

So, when my essay was nominated, rumors began spreading that my mother was the one who wrote my essay. She did help me with grammar, but writing it? No. I kept my distance from a lot of people after that.

When I got to middle school that was when things went to hell. My first year was a constant battle of drama. Rumors about me spread like wildfire. one rumor that was spreading, I was four or five months pregnant.

Instead of addressing the issue, the staff had pulled me into their office and told me to get an abortion, and to keep this hushed, they made comments on how they would be willing to help me get it done - meaning they would take me off school grounds to a Planned Parenthood. If I refused, they would kick me out of school. I told my mother about it, and it was addressed as a misunderstanding.

The following month I pulled into the nurse’s office because there was a rumor of how I was anorexic. I was baffled at the notion of how the staff had just threatened to expel me unless I got an abortion, to now saying I was starving myself and I was too thin.​

A few months after that I was a thief. Some girls had claimed I had stolen a sweater and instead of getting our parents involved, the vice principle had told me to get a job to pay the girl back, if I refused, he would call the police to have them search my house. ​I remember calling my mother crying. This is where my stepfather had made an impact not only on me, but with the school.

My mother had arranged a meeting with the principle, vice principle, the councilor, and the nurse. Anyone and everyone that had been involved in some way with me. They spoke a bit without me and when I came in, I told my version of the "story". I was told I had to get a job to pay back the girl, and if I didn't, he would call the police and have them search my house and room.​

My stepfather was quiet during all this. He was literally studying the man, watching his movements, his eyes darting around. Without saying anything he stood up and looked at this man in the eyes and asked him point blank if he had in any way mentioned about having the police search my room and or property. The man was visibly shaken by this. He stammered a bit, trying to say yes but. Though my stepfather wouldn't have it, he walked over and pulled out his badge and slammed it on the table. He told them he was the police and next time he wanted to threaten me like that again, it would not end well.

We had addressed other incidents as well during our meeting, such as wanting to take me off school grounds to get an abortion, and to keep things quiet, to being anorexic. The principal was outraged by everything she was hearing; she was unaware of what happening. Obviously, I wasn't pregnant nor was I anorexic.

I wish things were quiet after that, but no. It was still filled with battling rumors, and drama. It was taxing on me both physically and mentally. All this had impacted my grades even more, and my ability to help tend to my sister. ​

When it finally ended, I was over the moon when I "graduated" middle school. I wouldn't have to deal with the staff or anyone else again. A huge weight had lifted. New school, new staff, new peers. It was a whole new environment.

​I had attended one year of high school before I had made the decision to leave and help my mother care for my sister. Thus, I started on my home-school program with Lighthouse Christian Academy. I spent a couple of years with them between 2005 through 2007 before graduating with a GPA (grade point average) 3.18.

I was elated by the results. I couldn't believe I had bounced around from different schools, being thrown into programs, the chaos that ensued throughout middle school, and now I have successfully graduated.

Though I had graduated, my diploma was not accepted by many colleges. I felt crushed and defeated. My stepfather and my mother’s best friend encouraged me to continue with my passions of weather and writing. My stepfather continued our adventures, and I soon became a fully certified weather spotter. That was honestly the best decision I've ever made.

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My dysfunctional school years