Why we hit
a bit of a rant, a bit of a poem, and my heart poured into it
POV: Girl A
Imagine there were two girls, girl A and girl Y. They were enemies and didn’t necessarily like each other. They had one similar intention though, to hurt one another. Although the way they would hurt each other is vastly different.
Girl Y was the kind of girl who would hurt and deteriorate other girls with her words. That included gossiping, backbiting etc.
And then there’s girl A. Girl A was the kind of person who would rather shove someone to the ground rather than calling them an idiot. Either in person or behind their back.
For people that hit, I know the other person has probably been hurting you with their words. You just tried to ignore it and wish that she’d just leave you alone. You knew that you weren’t weak by any stretch of the imagination. You just had that one ace on the hold for when she really said something you don’t like. And that’s hitting. And trust me, I know how good it feels to see the powerless and fearful expression on their face when you push them. You’re a completely new person when they hurt you.
But you know it’s only something to use outside of school. Something that you can’t let anyone see. Because you’d be in big trouble if you do it in front of any other student. You’d probably get a suspension or a letter home. Something that will stick with you for the rest of your life. And yes, sometimes you do want to just punch everyone in the face and walk away but you don’t. You keep it all in and remain powerless and a victim. Until you graduate.
Boom! She fell and girl A is known as the girl who punched girl Y. Gravel that was on the baseball field was now smearing all over her clothes. Her knees were scraped as blood dropped on the pale-coloured ground. Everyone was surrounded with their eyes darting between girl A and girl Y. And before you knew it, there were teachers glaring at girl A, ashamed and confused and teachers consolidating girl Y for her “tremendous and painful fall”.
“Girl A, care to explain why you would punch your classmate?” The principal would ask as he prepared to document everything I was going to say. My teacher was there. All she did was stare back and forth between me, Girl Y, and the principal.
“Girl Y started it by calling me a sl*t!” Girl A exclaimed as she clenched her hands in a fist shortly after.
“That’s not explaining why you did what you did.” The principal said.
“Yes it is. She called me that and then I hit her afterwards!”
“What did I tell your class again? For when you're angry and don’t know what to do?” He asked as he tried to remember what he told us. I remembered. It was to either get a teacher, ignore, or talk it out whenever you were angry with someone. Girl Y was able to remember as she clearly stated it, maintaining eye contact the whole time.
“Why didn’t you do that? Did you see the bruise she has on her arm? And the cuts she has on her knees?” He asked.
“Yes.” I replied as the room slowly faded into silence.
“Well, you do know what the policy is right?” He asked again.
“Am I really going to get a behavior log?”
“Our school has no tolerance for violence”
“She’s been bullying me. She kept saying mean things to me that I didn’t like but I ignored it!”
“Then you should’ve followed one of the three”.
I yelled. “I did! I ignored her but it continued and it didn’t stop. You act like this freakin’ guide is going to solve everything. This has been happening since I was in grade four!”
“Don’t speak to the principal that way, Amira. Watch your mouth! I thought you were better than this”. She sighed afterwards.
“Don’t you care about how I feel?” I then asked. Tears started to trickle down my face and my nose was burning in the process.
“Yes, but there is a policy--”
“I’m the victim here! Not her!” I yelled again as I smacked my fist on my thighs. “What’s the difference between my pain and hers? Is my pain not valid because I didn’t have any scars?! Is my pain not valid because I’m not the one covered in gravol--”
“Enough!” My principal shouted as he signed the behavior log and gave it to me. And there I was, leaving the room with no sense of relief whatsoever…
That’s the end of the story. I hope you feel the pain girl A has gone through. The cruelty of the principal. The unfair way she was punished. The injustice she had even though she was bullied and treated like crap. Well let me tell you something…
That girl was me. A. A. is girl A and girl Y is a real person.
This kind of thing will forever bother me and grind me to the bone. I did say those things and I don’t regret them. But I really want you to focus on the part when I said “Is my pain not valid because I didn’t have any scars?! Is my pain not valid because I’m not the one covered in gravel?!” I still stand by that, even though that was three years ago. Girl Y was able to leave scott-free and didn’t get a single warning or punishment. I've never felt more devastated in my life. I never blamed myself for it and I’ve learnt a lot. School wasn't the brightest, most amazing place that I thought it was . It was biased and it allowed me to feel like I could do anything but I felt powerless at the same time.
What is the difference between hurting someone with violence and hurting someone with words? Because in the end, they're both getting hurt. You come into the scene and you see that one girl has bruises and she's hurt but you can't see the fact that the other is hurting just as bad. And as a girl who grew up hitting people as a last resort, whenever I was angry because someone pissed me off, I’d do the same thing I did to girl Y.
They’d come in and see all those bruises that are there in the more scrapes and cuts and all the scabs and everything and feel her pain. But they don’t understand that all the hitting that I did is what I’m feeling. I have bruises and cuts and scrapes in me but you just can’t see them. Should I be coming with a voice recorder every time they say something?! You can’t just believe me?!
I've been hurting and that's the only way for her to keep quiet and the only way I can finally have a little bit of power for myself and you make me feel like my feelings are valid. Shouldn't the fact that you're hurting someone no matter how you do it be the factor of why you're getting in trouble, not because you use your hands?!
The other girl has a brain and now, she has the idea that she can run her mouth and say whatever she wants and no one is going to do anything about it. No teacher and no principal. She knows that she can blame people and she can say anything and turn around to play the victim, knowing that she's not getting in trouble. She's using her words. Even though the unseen distinct scars of my heart can’t go away just like that and it doesn't heal just like a punch or a push or anything. Because it will stay with you forever and you can't go back from that and you can't even get stronger from it, something that'll hurt you forever.
So if you're still telling yourself that you are the victim because you were “just using your words”, STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME. This has happened to me twice with two different people in two different schools and it still happened to me. I’ve never felt so devastated and worthless in my life.
Thanks for reading this. If you relate with me, let me know! This is Amira, signing off!
Layout by Jessie Deng