I am 13. ( 14 in like a month) Before the coronavirus, I always have a teacher like this. They say, “I need a strong boy to carry this”. When I raise my hand, they always say. (Oh Camille, leave it to the strong boys, you are WAY to delicate”. It drives me crazy. It is so little, but it happens SO often. It has been told to me since 2nd grade.
So, a bit of context: I am in an advanced math class with only five students. I am female, the other four male. My personal opinions on the other students: one of them is my friend, one of them is a complete jerk and I absolutely despise him, and the other two are decent people. So one time in class we were playing a Kahoot. If you don’t know what that is, then too bad, I’m not going to explain. If you do know what a Kahoot is, then you will probably know that in Kahoot, you give yourself a nickname. (I hate Kahoots by the way) Me being the rebellious human being that I am, I decided to nickname myself “screw sexism” because yes. I forget the details exactly, but I must have been one of the first people to join, because two of the others named themselves based on that. My friend named himself something along the lines of “sexism=bad” or something like that. And here’s where the real fun begins… The aforementioned complete jerk, who we will call A, has a twisted sense of humor, has harassed myself and my best friend on multiple occasions, so in comparison, this wasn’t all that bad, but it still pissed me off. A had the bright idea of naming himself “<3 sexism". If you didn't know, <3 stands for a heart… yeah, he's a jerk. But on the bright side, I think he got last place in the Kahoot! XD Just to give an extra random fact about me, in the most recent Kahoot we played, I nicknamed myself "I hate Kahoots". In the words of my math teacher, "Oh, the irony." That's my story, I know it's not as bad as many people's, but the guy really pissed me off.
I am a female, almost 13. I go to a private school, with 6 girls and 10 boys in my class. This year, we were having a small party (we just called it a feast) during our literature period. A few of the girls and I were sitting on the ground listening to our Literature teacher talk to us about whatever (I don’t like her very much, but she was being pretty chill at that party). One of my friends, we’ll call her Clara (not even close to her real name), laid her head down in my lap. I didn’t hear this part, but apparently some of the guys saw us and said we were gay (they honestly didn’t even know gay girls were called lesbians). Then on a different day, I saw two of the guys holding hands while they were coming in from playing football during lunch. Of course, nobody said anything about them literally holding hands (which in my opinion doesn’t mean they’re gay), but they had to say Clara and I were gay for ACTING LIKE GIRLS OUR AGE DO. Sorry for the rant… thanks for reading 🙂
I’m a (nearly) 13 year old female. I go to a private school, and have gone to the same one since kindergarten. This year (and by that I mean 2019-2020, although we already got out for summer), we got a new principal. He decided that the girls’ skirts were too short (although we have a uniform so if we bought something, we should be able to wear it…) and now we have skirt checks. He gave everyone an entire speech about it, explaining that BOTH boys and girls will get the checks (the boys for their shorts, not skirts… obviously) and he decided to use the short side of a credit card to do it. My class, fortunately, did not have the displeasure of getting a shirt checks, but a class of high school junior girls did (we have pre-k through 12th grade in one building). From what I’ve heard, a teacher made the girls stand up and measured (using their credit card, of course) how far their skirts were from their knees. One girl’s skirt was too short and she had to go to the front and borrow a longer skirt. The most infuriating part was that they have not ONCE checked the guys’ shorts… The sexism goes both ways, however. Every single day, our teachers make comments to the boys like “tuck in your shirt” “where is your belt?” I don’t think that behaviour is acceptable at all. The girls are NEVER asked to tuck in their shirts. Sorry for making that story so long (I hope I didn’t more you to death)… I’ve been told I make stories really long when I don’t need to. Anyway, thanks for reading, and I love you!
I’m a female, almost 13 years old, and there’s this jerk in my class named… we’ll call him Hunter (sorry to anyone out there named Hunter, I’m sure you’re a lovely person). Hunter and most of the girls in my class are on a Minecraft realm together (there’s legit only 6 girls in my class, 5/6 are in the realm). Once, me, my friend (we’ll call her Clara), and Hunters sister (we’ll call her Emma) were all on the realm, mostly just chatting. We were talking about being nice to everyone in general and how, if we’re nice to a guy in our class, (CAUTION: REALITY FLIPPING STATEMENT COMING UP) it doesn’t mean we like him. Then Hunter starts talking about all the relationships he had been in (Hunter, Emma, and I were all 12 at the time), bragging about how many girls he had kissed. I was kinda like “ew gross I’ve never kissed anyone and I don’t approve of middle school dating” and he started pitying the other girls and I, saying “you poor girls, you’ve never kissed anyone. I’m sorry for you” and then he legit tries to explain “making out” to us, except he was thinking of French kissing and didn’t believe us when we told him that. So yeah, this dude has been a real pain in the butt countless times, and somehow Clara still has hope for him and tries to be his friend, despite him teasing her (not in a way that’s actually funny), saying that she can’t do math and that she’s too tall. Thanks for reading and sorry for making this story so long… I have a problem with doing that :/ Love you!
I was walking and someone came up behind me and grabbed my butt I was 13 years old at the time and I still think about it.
When I was nine years old, my mom decided to sign me up for an art class. At the time, I was living in a small town where everyone knew everyone and everyone was very religious. At first, the class went really well, I was privately taught by this man in his apartment the basics of watercolour painting, which I was really good at. After a month of that, my teacher suggested moving me from my Tuesday class to ‘The Sunday Class’ (aka the “big girls” class). I was crazy excited and couldn’t wait to tell my parents. I was the youngest in the class of all girls between the ages of 14 and 16. This class was madly different; first of all, we were working with big canvases rather than pieces of paper. Next, we were using oil paints (a media I had no experience with). And lastly, I wasn’t alone – which would make you think that I should, in theory, be safe, right? Wrong!! What I didn’t realise about this man was that he had major anger issues triggered by the smallest disturbance and was a perfectionist. So me, being a nine-year-old, inexperienced, jokester that I was became his new target. I say “new” as something strange about his class was that he would take registration every lesson, and I always noticed that a girl on the list never showed up and the others were oddly quiet about it. In my second lesson, I hade become friendlier with the girls in the class and started joking around while we were painting. This didn’t go well as my teacher got furious and told me not to get distracted – I was shocked but didn’t think anything of it. In my third lesson, I made a mistake in my painting and was stupid enough to ask for his help, his reaction is why I’m writing here: He proceeded to bring a chair directly behind me and then wrapped his arms around my chest. He then started to squeeze and didn’t stop until I could barely breathe. From there, he held his position and rested his head on y shoulder where he then started to whisper in my ear how much of a failure I was and that I would never be anything in life, also saying that I was an ungrateful little girl who was wasting his money by ruining his canvases and using too much of his paints. I was nine. I didn’t know better and was living in a society where things like that aren’t spoken about. In the country where I’m from there is one line that will explain why I didn’t do anything and why, even worse, none of the girls in that class did anything either for the span of a year that I was going through this: “There are people who are going through worse!” Hearing this, I never thought to complain or waste anyone’s time. I proceeded to go to this class for a whole year (that’s at least 30 days out of my life) where a man, knew he could get the best of me and no one would do anything about it. No one has. The day that it stopped: I came home with my newest painting, that had taken me three months to complete. My parents did the usual, took a picture of me with the painting, told me how talented I was, all that jazz. But, this day was different; I don’t know why, my parents didn’t usually care what we were going through as kids, but something possessed my father to ask me if I was enjoying my classes (I guess the constant abuse had taken its toll on my personality). I, as an uneducated ten-year-old, answered, “I love the girls and my paintings, but I don’t like his hugs,” After I said this, my parents gave each other a look I had never seen before. Then I wasn’t allowed back to my class. We never spoke of it. My parents didn’t do anything with this information. And now I’m living with the trauma. I can’t even be in the same room as oil paint without getting a panic attack. I take Art A-Level now and have no desire to explain to my teacher why I can’t use oil paint or canvases. I just need someone to tell me I was in this situation and there was nothing I could’ve done about it. I need people to educate girls that this happens to everyone no matter their age, dress, etc. I am a modern orthodox girl who has worn skirts that cover her knees and sleeves that cover her elbows for her entire life – don’t tell me it’s my fault. I need men educated on their behaviour and how it affects women well into their adult life – it’s something that never goes away. Basically, I’m pissed. Thank you for reading.
Boys sometimes tell me to “shut up woman” and “get back to the kitchen and make me a toastie” and that “your opinion doesn’t matter because you’re a woman”. Everyone expects me to take it as a joke, and I know it isn’t a big deal but it really hurts. I’m only a teenager, and I kind of feel ashamed of my gender just because of what boys shout at me.
I remember at school, me and my friends were in P.E. We were doing basketball, and out (male) teacher told the boys to play a ‘real game’, while us girls can ‘play something more suited to you.” Like, he ACTUALLY said ‘boys, you can play a real game. Girls, play something more suited to you’. :/
I was 14 in middle school when I did a co-ed volleyball team. We were stretching in one big horizontal line, and as most people know, the girl’s volleyball shorts are very short and tight, which I didn’t really think about. I was talking to my guy friend who was one of those guys that think he’s hilarious and has a MAJOR ego. As we walked, he would brush his hand on me, and since I was a very innocent teen, I figured it was accidental. He kept doing it. I was still clueless. Until he finally said, “You have such a flat ass”. Right to my face! I was shocked and became so self-conscious about something that I previously never gave a second thought. IT WAS TERRIBLE.