This year I am resolving to at least keep my resolutions in mind until the end of March. It will be a first.
As I was running the other day, trying to keep my mind off of what I was doing (the PAIN! the TORTURE!), I let my mind wander back to Junior High. This is a time period I generally try to forget, but I'm starting to find that I'm far enough away from that horrific experience to somewhat appreciate it.
I remembered being in 9th grade. Totally awkward, fat, short, desperately trying to fit it. I was deplorable. At the very beginning of spring when it was still quite cold outside, my best friend Brittany got a job. I was in awe, how could a 14 year old GIRL possibly get a job these days, what with child labor laws in place and such. I expressed my desire to earn some cold hard cash, and Brittany assured me that she could get me a job too.
It was at a Nursery (tree not baby) a few miles away from my house. I remember Brittany's mom driving us over there one chilly Saturday morning. I was a nervous wreck. I had never had a job before. I stared down at my old tennis shoes and sweats as we drove. I wasn't sure what I would be asked to do at this job, I knew it entailed manual labor... but oh! to be paid for my work! Such excitement!
(Britt and Torrey)When the group dispersed to begin their respective jobs Brittany introduced me to the boss.
"This is my friend Torrey, you said you needed some more people to work..."
The tall man stared down at me. I felt as if he were examining my soul.
"BOYS, we need more boys, not girls."
I could feel myself starting to shrink. Like any good feminist/best friend would do, Brittany immediately stood up for me.
"You said to bring our friends, you never said they had to be boys."
The tall man then glared at Britt. I swallowed hard. My faced started to get hot.
"Well, she can work for today, but that's it."
He then gave us orders of what to do and marched off. My mind was running a million miles an hour. What did he have against girls? Was it because I was fat? Why did I even come here? How could I ever show my face to the tall man again? Would he just pay me at the end of the day... or would he make me come back to get paid? Would he even pay me?
I started to panic. Brittany was upset too, but she already had a job, she needed to get to work. She started to walk to her work area and looked back at me. I just shook my head "no" and quickly walked the other way. I knew Britt would understand, she would do the same thing had she been in my shoes.
I started to walked as quickly as I could down the long dirt road. I heard the tall man yelling, but I didn't dare look back. Hot tears began to run down my face. I was completely and totally humiliated. When I got to the highway, my quick walk turned into a dead run. I had to get away from that place.
I cried and cried as I ran and ran down the highway in hopes of reaching home, a place where I never got paid for jobs, but my work was always welcome. I ran the entire way home, it was a lesat 3 miles (not bad for a chubby adolescent). Something about that tall man embarrassing me gave me fuel. It was oddly invigorating.
I looked down at the treadmill to see that I had only run 2 miles, yet it felt like 20. Since I've been running, I've been trying to recreate that fuel, trying to find something to get me to run like that little 14 year old.
New Years Resolutions: 1. Don't let anyone make me feel less than I am. 2. Look up the tall man on Face Book and DON'T add him as a friend. 3. Find more positive fuel.
2 comments:
I cried that whole day at work and quit just a couple weeks later! I remember that day like it was yesterday... It's funny how the same experience can still resonate with both of us! Love you!!
You go, my feminist daughters!Always look the tall man in the eye. ~ Bonnie
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