micswagger:

sometimes I wish I could go back in time, back to when i was in middle school and high school knowing what I know NOW. So much shit that I put up with, would not have even transpired tbh.

The middle school I attended was really popular, yet it was really racist as fuck. You had to make certain grades to get in the school - so of course a majority of the school was white. The elementary school I came from was really poor as far as academics goes, but the parish had me in this program called ‘gateway’ (think of it as AP) and I was the only student in my entire elementary school in this program. 

My gateway teacher was a little black lady - and I have no idea what efforts she went through but she obviously saw something in me. She went through hell (I’m guessing) to get my middle school to accept me into the school. I remember how ‘ecstatic’ my mom was at the fact that I was attending the ‘good white people school’. 

Needless to say, my experience with the school was shit. Complete shit.

The gateway program at this school was way more popular, we had a little hallway where the three gateway teachers were located. each of the three teachers were set to a specific grade during Home-Room, but the three of them still taught all of us. 

Towards the end of sixth grade the eighth grade girls were working on gateway projects for the end of the year - so that meant that they’d come into our classes and we helped them with their projects. For some reason, all of their purses went missing at this time as well… and who do you think was the number one suspect? 

it’s crazy how well I can remember all of this, but I remember my 6th grade teacher telling me to come out to the hall with her. and of course I had no idea what the fuck was going on when all three of the gateway teachers were standing by my locker in the hall. the 7th grade teacher was like, “Shakerian, the eighth graders have reason to believe that you’ve been stealing their purses.”

so of course I deny the claim, and my 7th grade teachers says, “Well..every time you’ve asked to go to the restroom these past few days that’s when their purses have gone missing.” 

So at this rate, getting interrogated by three white teachers I’m bawling my eyes out because my feelings are generally hurt. I’ve been a good student, and I gave none of the teachers any reason to suspect that I would steal any purses whatsoever. I look at my 6th grade teacher and I say, “..Why is this happening to me, why am I getting blamed for this?” and no lie, Mrs. Burgess looked away like she felt guilty. 

I sitting here pleading with these heffas and telling them I never stole anything, so the eighth grade teacher, Mrs. Heacock tells me to open my locker and I say, “What for?” 

she says, “Well you’re obviously lying because you’re crying and you know you’re guilty.”

I say, “I’m crying because my feelings are hurt.”

she gets upset and fucking demands me to open my locker, Mrs. Burgess and Ms. Acree don’t say anything - they just watch as I open my locker. As soon as I open my locker Ms. Heacock pushes me, literally fucking pushes me out of the way and she takes all my books, everything, and throws it out of my locker. She gets my backpack, and pours all my stuff on the ground - literally going through ALL of my shit.

Mrs. Heacock is pissed at this point, so she tells me to empty my pockets - yet I have not a damned thing in them. So now Ms. Acree is like, “Peggy, I don’t think she stole the purses.”

and then in a crazy as fuck turn of events, some eighth graders come out of Mrs. Heacock’s room and are like, “We know who stole our purses.”

that’s when everything clicked, tbh. since I was the only black girl in gateway, and I came from the ‘poor’ school it made perfect sense that I be the suspect. I mean, I’m black and /ALL/ black people steal, right?

Turns out that one of their classmates was the one who stole their purses, he was right under their fucking noses stealing their purses yet the black girl gets blamed because its obvious that she steals.

I bend down and begin picking my stuff (which Mrs. Heacock didn’t even have the decency to put it back in my locker for me) I look at Mrs. heacock and I say, “Are you upset because the little black girl isn’t the suspect, as badly as you wanted her to be?”

the teachers, all of them, seriously walk off with the white girls into Mrs. Heacock’s classroom to confront the boy. 

No apologies for the false blame, no apologies for hurting my pride, and my feelings.

No nothing.

That was my first and last year at that school, I told my mom that night - she went there the next day, cursed the teachers out and I transferred to a different middle school during the summer.

One of the most fucked up school experiences of my life, and sadly not the worst.