Voted Off The Island
I had a rough time with my self esteem in middle school. I know, real original.
After completing sixth grade, the two elementary schools in our town fed into the same middle school. A lot changed. Rather than continuing with the elementary school model of having one downtrodden teacher for core subjects and specialists just for music, art, and PE, middle school introduced specialized teachers for every single subject. In this new world, math, english, social studies/history, and english were each taught by a different downtrodden teacher. Additionally, since one english teacher wasn’t able to teach an entire grade, students were split into three “teams,” delineated by color. Each “team” lived in its own ecosystem, meaning they had different core teachers and different electives. The teams were even separated geographically; the “Yellow” team had classrooms near the gym; the “Purple” team had classrooms near the woodshop; the “Red” team had classrooms near the library.
One of my best friends was put on a different team, which meant I effectively never saw him in school. It was like being best friends with a ghost, or having “a girlfriend from summer camp that goes to a different school.” Sure. Everyone believes you. My other closest friend opted out of our dingy “Junior High” by leaving the public school system to join the ranks of private education. In the absence of my day-one buds, I had to find new friends in my designated team. If my younger, sheltered mind had to imagine prison, this was basically it. After spending my entire childhood with mostly the same people, it was a real shakeup for my social life. I was back to being the new guy, even though I’d been in the same town forever. Adding in my insanely long and curly hair, I felt like Napoleon Dynamite in more ways than one.
The lack of friends was hard enough, not to mention the hormones associated with becoming a teenager, my family moving across town, and the painful realization that I wasn’t an athlete. I was never the best at sports, but it hurt to see that I couldn’t even add value to a flag football team, or make friends on the sidelines as I’d done in the past. My dugout pranks and inventive cheers weren’t enough to get on base, let alone cross the plate. I always prided myself on being book smart, but my lack of confidence led to bad grades, arguing with teachers, and generally not being friendly to those around me. In my mind, I was Good Will Hunting, but in practice, I was Sid living next door to Woody, Buzz, and Andy. I was pretty down on myself, but luckily there were some people who thought it was worth getting through my crusty exterior to find the molten excitement of my true friendship inside. The friends I made during those tough times are still some of my closest friends to this day, but amongst the majority of my peers, I gathered a reputation for being a jerk. There were plenty of people who did not like my brand, and I can’t say I blame them: If I had met my own clone, I would’ve had plenty of insults to sling his way.
By the time eighth grade rolled around, social circles had solidified. I had managed to make a few friends, but I was not an outwardly kind or well liked person: I didn’t get called to hang out or go to parties, and I didn’t have much talent outside of making fun of people (which, to be clear, I was great at). I still had some friends that knew I was hurting deep down, but my general demeanor turned people off, alienated classmates I could have otherwise been friends with, and created a feedback loop that led to me becoming even more unfriendly and unpopular. This became all too clear in math class.
Pre-algebra generally started right after lunch. I would eat my roast beef sandwich with anyone that would sit with me, then head to class. Our teacher, Ms. Beech, also took lunch at the same time, and usually found her way to class a few minutes after the period had technically started. She had little control over the class even when she was in the room, but it might as well have been The Hunger Games when she wasn’t around. The ringleader of pandemonium, Reggie, would enter the teacherless room, grab a piece of chalk, and write “Survivor” on the blackboard. He then hosted his version of the hit reality show where he would get the students to vote off the least popular kids in the class. There were no real consequences, other than knowing everyone hated you. This happened at least ten times, and my name was always an option. I was very frequently “voted off,” and my life would have improved if Jeff Probst just let me leave.
Unsurprisingly, I did not take it well. I would Hulk out, turning red-in-the-face angry, and say even more awful things to people than usual. Eventually I pointed my criticisms at Ms. Beech. Reggie, who knew he could get in trouble if he was caught in the act, played teacher’s pet to avoid scrutiny. Ms. Beech never saw the full proceedings, and assumed I was simply bad mouthing Reggie because that’s what I was known for-- not because he was actively bullying me and other kids in the class. Being young, dumb, and emotional, I was unable to pull myself out of this pattern to any positive effect.
My behavior got worse and worse, and it wasn’t until I had gone way too far that I realized how my actions were affecting others. In hindsight, Ms. Beech was only in her second or third year of teaching, and in all likelihood lacked the experience to understand what was really going on in her class. Teachers, specifically middle school ones, are saints and deal with an unimaginable amount of shit. It's not surprising that this 20-something had enough on her plate trying to teach basic math to half a hundred hormonal monsters without having to be their therapist/moral compass as well. One day, I pointed out a mistake she had made on the blackboard, an incident which I absolutely relished. The correction was valid, but my tone was intended to bite. My words clearly upset her: she turned red in the face, and the situation quickly escalated into a verbal spat. She went off on me for being mean and a bad student, and I rifled back with disparaging remarks about her math ability, her teaching skills, and her alma mater, which brought her to tears as she left the classroom.
At that moment, I felt amazing. I was used to feeling powerless, but had somehow “successfully” eviscerated my teacher. For once, I had power, or at least some control over my life. I felt like David having just defeated Goliath in single combat. Only, I hadn’t saved an entire army. My “victory” was turning everyone in the room against me.
A moment later, I realized I wasn’t the good guy at all, but the twisted villain. I was using warped self pity to justify attacking people who didn’t deserve it. I felt awful about being made fun of, for being put down by my classmates, and used that as fuel to do the same thing to someone else. I used my pain to vote her off the island, and made her feel the same “lesser than” that I felt. I walked out to the hallway to apologize, but failed to say anything that made up for the words I had used to tear her down. It felt terrible. I was powerless in a whole new way, and I was responsible for it all. Cersei Lannister and I could have started a “digging your own grave” club.
I would love to tell you things immediately got better, but they didn’t. Ms. Beech and I never came to an understanding, Reggie continued Survivor, and I kept verbally abusing other people. It took me years to figure out why I kept going through the cycle of being bullied and feeling awful, then taking it out on others only to feel awful again. I don’t wish anyone else to go through this, but I am thankful to have eventually learned from my mistakes and now know how to treat people better. If you notice this pattern in yourself, please take some time to reflect on your behavior, and learn about emotions and belief systems. Consider seeing a trained professional who can help you better understand your thoughts and feelings. Your life will improve remarkably, and you may even keep yourself, and anyone else, from being voted off the island.
Anyways, here is my recipe for a roast beef sandwich.
Ingredients:
This was my go-to midday respite in middle school. I always felt just a bit better after having my medium rare ray of sunlight, beaming through two pieces of bread. Then I would eat that sunlight and become a medium rare being of enlightenment. Be forewarned: It only lasted 12-18 minutes, and then I would return to my regular, urchin-like self. But those 12 minutes…!
¼ Pound Deli Sliced Roast Beef
1 Baguette (you can use any bread)
2 Slices Monterey Jack Cheese
1 Leaf Lettuce
5 White Mushrooms
½ Sweet Onion
Horseradish Spread
Butter
Equipment:
All you really need is a tiny bit of willpower. The only thing that takes effort is cooking the mushrooms and onions, and then practicing just a bit of self control as the smells begin to make your house smell like heaven.
Frying pan
Bread knife
Active prep total: 12 minutes
Clean up: 8 minutes
You deserve a break. This sandwich is your little vacation. Commuting to the same room every day, sitting at the same desk, and talking to the same people over and over can make you crazy. Take a minute to sit back, relax, give your thought processes a break, and let your enjoyment cortex take over. You earned it.
Instructions:
Start by chopping your ½ sweet onion and slice your 5 mushrooms. Throw a slice of butter in the frying pan at medium heat, then add your veggies to the hot pan. Add a little salt and garlic powder. LEARN HOW TO USE SPICES! Let them sit for a bit, then mix it around and let them sit again. Continue this process for a few minutes until they have completely browned.
While the veggies cook, prepare the rest of the sandwich. Cut an 8 inch section of baguette, and then cut it the long way to create your sandwich bread. Layer the bottom piece with ¼ pound of roast beef, and add the cheese on top. Spread horseradish sauce on the top piece of bread, and use it as glue to stick the lettuce on there. A lot of people don’t realize, horseradish keeps everything together, like that one friend who starts the group chat for dinner plans. Horseradish friends are the real MVPs.
When the veggies are browned, add them to the bottom half of the sandwich, on top of the cheese. This will melt the Monterey Jack into the sliced meat, and bring the whole sandwich together. Wait, is Monterey Jack the new horseradish friend? It’s ok, there can be more than one.
All that’s left is to carefully place the top piece of bread, completing your heavenly hoagie. Remember, in sandwiches and in life, simplicity is key. A lot of times, I would overthink situations, making them worse. Don’t fall for the sandwich with 25 ingredients, topped with spicy truffle aioli, served on a fajita platter. IT’S TOO MUCH. It’s sensory overload. Growing up, I was in a constant state of reaction and escalation, and couldn’t slow down to let my rational brain take over. If I had, I would have seen how much I was getting in my own way, and taking out my insecurities on other people. Take the time to give yourself a break. Right now especially, we all need it. I want to thank Ms. Beech (and all my teachers over the years) for putting up with myself and other students that didn’t deserve or appreciate your patience. And to all the kids going through some version of what I went through, I promise you, it will get better. Roast beef is only the first step on a long journey to enlightenment. Please, reach out to the people in your life who you trust, and who love you. There are a lot of resources out there to help with bullying, depression, and anger. There is a path to a better life, and these resources can help. Making teachers cry is not the solution. Trust me.
