|Posted by alekisalejandro on February 19, 2012 at 3:40 AM|
I was always the shortest kid in the class or even the entire grade. I was certainly never the strongest. I was picked on for these things. This was in elementary school when people did this kind of stuff. I wasn't the tall kid who leapt into the heavens to score a basket. Nor was I kid the kid who could climb all the way to the top of rope in gym class like scaling Mount Everest. Instead I was better at reading, writing and making people laugh. That's how I got through elementary school. To be honest though, it's not like they were being mean. Just slightly teasing.
As my personality developed, I was became known as the kid who was really funny and spiked his hair up with different colored hair gel. I was pretty well-liked for that. I wasn't trying to be different, but I enjoyed setting myself apart from the other kids.
Here's where the real problem started. In middle school. To this day, I have sweet and sour memories of middle school.
I've been skinny all my life. My father has a high metabolism that burns calories faster than you can say Gaga. I inherited this trait and ended up having a skinny body. People would call me anorexic or bulimic. They would pester me in the locker room, asking if I made myself throw up after lunch. I had the gym teacher come up to me an meanly ask: "Why would you even do that?" Instead of askikng me in private, he did this in front of the class while he was taking attendance. I was embarrassed. It wasn't true. I've never had an eating disorder but because I was skinny and small, they assumed that I had anorexia. This bothered me a lot. I never spoke to the counselor about it. I didn't think he would understand.
Here comes the most painful thing about middle school. The whole gay thing as some in my school called it.
I was always kind of flamboyant in my behavior. I always talked to the young ladies making them laugh and such. I was known for dancing in the hallways, blurting my stream of consciousness, and always having my nose in a book.
At my school, being flamboyant or not acting like the other boys automatically made you a queer. I was aksed several times by my peers if I was gay because I liked to read. Because I liked to break it down at school dances. Because I always talked to girls. They would say: "That kid is so gay. He doesn't even LIKE girls. He highlights his hair!"
I'm not gay. So I certainly hated hearing those accusations. Especially when they became rumors or kept asking me about it. I developed low self-esteem because of this. I began to question my sexuality because of their observations. I began to think if I act like the stereotype, then it must be true. I became depressed. Nothing really made me happy at the point in my life. I would have periods of happiness and then it would dissipate. Now on to high school.
The last year of middle school was great. I made close friends that followed into high school. My first two years in high school were also bittersweet. A couple good moments and some shitty ones. I also discovered Gaga! More on that later.
So anway, I took an art class because it was required by the state to have one fine arts credit in order to graduate. I've never been good on putting my visiual concepts on paper in the form of an illustration, so art was pretty hard for me. The teacher would let us listen to the radio. I knew all the current songs, singing along to them and continuing my flirtations with the young ladies. I was labeled gay again because I liked singing. People would tell me to stop singing. I know it can annoying when you're concentrating on something so I respected that. But for some reason, bullies would accuse me of singing and would throw erasers at me for humming a Taylor Swift song. I hated sitting next to them. I never told the teacher. I nearly failed art because I couldn't focus with all the negativty just swirling like a hurricane.
The gay labeling continued into my sophomore year in my history class. People would get mad at me for no reason. They didn't like that I was smart and did all my homework. They would call me a faggot for wearing a certain shirt. A T-shirt with like Spider-Man on it. I like comic books! But apparently they didn't care. I would have paper planes thrown at me with: "You're a faggot! Go die in a hole! You like it up the butt! Pansy! I would stick up for myself but that was only met with more insults, which I will not mention. What really hurt the most was that the teacher knew it was happening and didn't do anything about it. One day she came up to me and said: "Alek, keep up the good work. You have one of the highest grades in the class."
Of course that didn't stop the bullying. That was a long trimester. She would move the seats but they would still throw things. I'm not one to cry in front of people, but there were times where I got angry with the world and why I was being treadt so poorly by this group of people.
I wasn't gay. I didn't like it up the butt. I wasn't going to kill myself like they told me to. I hated the class, but then I took my exam and hustled out of the place like nobody's business and onto summer vacation.
But during this time, I landed into a another art class. For the love of Gaga of course. I loved it everytime one of her songs came on the radio. She only had two out at the time. Just Dance and Poker Face! I knew all the words. I watched her perform on American Idol. However, I saw her first at the 2008 Miss Universe pageant and I've loved her ever since. The clothes, the voice, she's sexy, her videos. Everything. She inspired me to pick up a pen and write songs. Songwriting has truly helped me cope with some of the negativity in my life. Her music helped me get through the awful sophomore year. I bought The Fame the day after Michael Jackson died. I had been saving up my money mowing lawns just so I could buy it. And I learned every song and came back as the school's biggest Gaga fan my junior year. I was also the school's biggest MJ fan as well. (I went to a small school) This elicited more criticism but that's for another blog because this one is already too long.