Day 200

Conflict meet Resolution.

I was never really picked on growing up, except for a few occasional and perhaps understandable situations…

Like peeing in my pants standing in front of the class in first grade. That was a bit rough.

Or when I went through a phase when I wore the same “Spice Girl” inspired rainbow shirt for days in a row in 4th grade. I need to find and burn the photo evidence.

And I’m just assuming I was made fun of when I was 12 or 13,…its an awkward age for anyone,…and I had some REeeally bad hair cuts on top it.

Averaging it all out high school went pretty smoothly. However,there was this kid in gym class who was just a little crap to everyone. Apart from being extremely unintelligent he was particularly popular,..and thats a bad combination. Everything just went to his head and he wasn’t able to process it. I think his name was Chris. Yeah thats gotta be it. Chris came up to me one day and said really slowly, “Are you an exchange student”? I answered him with an ‘are you for real?’ blank stare. He says ” yeah you look like you’re from Czechoslovakia”! From then on he never called me Jessica and always spoke to me like I was mentally handicapped. Poor Chris, Czechoslavakia wasn’t even a country at the time. I gave him the satisfaction of being ‘king of gym class’ because I figured after high school life would go down-hill for him.

Fast forward to now.The present.I’m 24 years old, and I dare say its a bit too late in life to start letting people pick on me. More so when those people are little punk ass teenagers.

I’m not going to lie and pretend that I feel cool hanging out grabbing WiFi underneath the library steps, nearing 12:30am on a Tuesday. I would much rather be in some baggy shorts and a T drinking wine and checking my FB in bed. SO naturally its humbling when I come and squat out on the cold steps that stink like cat piss and are stained by cigarette butts. Granted its worth it, or I wouldn’t be doing it. But in contrary to the norm, tonight I met conflict.

So Damn Lucky- Live in Rio, Dave Matthews.Spotify.I’m Jamming out, thinking to myself, you know what? I am pretty damn lucky…although that luck is actually work and sacrifice…but yeah sure I’m lucky. The song was playing, things were going great…awesome instrumental solos…drowning out the sound of TEENAGER above me, and then plop. A pizza box comes sailing in the wind and eats dirts a foot away from me. 2 other pizza boxes are thrown down from the kids above, now laughing, as they are trying to hit me.

‘You think I’m going to tear myself away from this song and look at you scum bags?’ Is what I’m thinking. Not worth my time. I choose the way of pacifism and ignore them and turn my headphones just a bit louder.

Thats when a slice of half eaten -who the hell knows what kind of pizza- lands on my legs and just enough to touch the far right corner of my MacBookPro.

Here let it be stated, I worked my ass off for this thing. I have no children, pets or boyfriend. My money and affection go to things like my prized electronics (….after the fam,friends, and travel of course) so little bored and delinquent children just have no business trying anything. Won’t let it happen. Pacifism out the door…would have gone out the door,..but in the few minutes it took for me to realize what the hell that was, I saw all their little shadows dart away into the darkness and the heard the laughter follow.

I was pretty pissed. Actually really pissed. A few minutes pass and by then I calmed down bit, telling myself that as a school teacher beating the shit of teenagers would be inappropriate and not worth the brief satisfaction. And it was just as I had calmed back down 4 little shadows slinked in front of me, heading my way, laughing and calling me names, I swear Spanish kids have serious balls. Except, this time I could see them.

2 girls. 2 boys. Well. My sister’s 16,….so that means that…I have no idea how old they were. In the range of 13-16 yrs, although one of the boys was so tiny. I mean just tiny, he looked 7,…but he had a little Mohawk and said the “f-word” equivalent, so he had to of been older, besides its not cool for a 13-16yrs old girls to be hanging out with 7 years old. Come on I know that.

They approached slowly. I ignored them, but turned the sound down so I could hear them. They started taunting me, and then screaming “Hi, whats your name, stupid!” OK. I clearing wasn’t going to beat them, but I stood up,…put the meanest serious adult face on I could and walked fast and confidently towards them saying, in damn near perfect Spain Spanish ( I put effort into it,..its normally comes out Mexican/Gringo) ” Hello. My name is Esperanza, and I am actually a school teacher here in Torrox finishing up some assignments for my students…” and I didn’t need to say anymore because they actually ran. But bolted from me, as fast as they could,..and all I ever did was speak Spanish and walk towards them. Then…they actually shouted out apologizes. The girls did anyways. The shrimpy boy who ran first, and the fastest, he called me an idiot.

So I actually moved from the steps then, and sat in the place they normally hang out in. Finders Keepers punk asses.

I was actually pleased how it worked out, the kids were probably just really bored, and obviously weren’t serious about getting into trouble, or they wouldn’t have run away from me.

10 minutes later they came back. Really hesitant. First they looked at me and turned back to the way they had come from,…then slowing walked toward me again, because after all I’m on the steps and they had to walk past me to go down. “Esperanza?” one girl says to me walking past, trying to act like I didn’t just see her run away from me.
“Yes, my name is Esperanza”.
“Oh. I’m Gloria”.
“It nice to meet you Gloria. Have a nice night”.

Conflict meet Resolution.

Not only resolution but also partial realization of why the classes in Torrox are all wrong. Teachers and people like myself sometimes forget that kids are kids and have kid brains. I mean the same punk asses who I was going to have to teach a lesson to ended up being these fragile children who ran like their life depended on it as soon as I stood up. And I see this happen all the time in class, like with threating the kids, or trying to make them feel shame or even in some cases actually arguing with them…! You gotta handle them differently, because they are and do think differently. And sometimes the resolution turns out to be simpler than what you might think.


One thought on “Day 200

  1. Francisco Javier says:

    You look really serious (and angry) here. I can imagine why children go away so fast, lol.

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