The Freedom Writers Diary - Erin Gruwell [45]
It brought back a lot of memories from my past. In my honors class, I’ve never really been that comfortable. I’ve always been the oddball and have never felt accepted. I feel like I’m always trying to prove that I belong. I remember feeling like that back in the day.
I grew up surrounded by fat people. My mom—overweight; my brother—overweight; my sister—overweight; my aunt, yeah, you guessed it—overweight! As a child, I always thought, Why me? Why did I have to be overweight? Why did I have to be the child that didn’t play sports because I was overweight? I couldn’t climb the gym ropes, I couldn’t swing on the swings, and I couldn’t do a pull-up. I thought nothing could be done about my weight. I thought that was the way I was supposed to be, FAT!
Jumping rope and having the other kids yell, “EARTHQUAKE! Run for cover!” really hurt. People often told me, “Why do you let people talk to you that way? Speak up for yourself,” but I didn’t have the courage to do so. I was afraid to say anything for fear they might say, “Shut your fat ass up!” So I thought I would save myself the embarrassment.
My sixth grade year was hell! I hardly had any friends and I couldn’t look anyone in the face. All I could think about was food. By the time I completed sixth grade, I weighed over 200 pounds. That’s a lot of damn weight for a sixth grader. I wore a size 26 to 28 and I had no confidence in myself. I thought I was ugly! I had no boyfriend, I didn’t go to parties, and I had no social life. I pretty much kept to myself. When some ignorant kids would see me at lunch, they would say, “Your fat ass don’t need to be eating shit!” I would just ignore them, but after awhile, the comments were really hard for me to ignore. It was difficult for me to believe that someone would take away my self-esteem, just to gain their own. The only reason why I didn’t resort to kicking their skinny butts was because I didn’t want to be known as fat and a bully, because then no one would talk to me.
I felt alone, ashamed, and left out of everything. I would go home after school and think of things I wanted to say to them, but never had the courage to say. I hated them and myself. I felt as if I was in a shell and there was no way for me to get out.
Rather than feeling sorry for myself, I turned to books and school to feel good. Suddenly, I was getting straight As. School allowed me to creep out of my shell slowly, but surely.
Basketball for Bosnia practically was a rebirth. All my insecurities flew out the window. When the tournament was over, we formed a Soul Train line and danced on the basketball court. I can’t believe that I had the courage to go through the center of the line and dance in front of 500 people. Everybody went crazy, they cheered me on and waved their hands in the air. I felt wanted, like I was a part of a family. I wasn’t just another face in the class, I had a chance to express myself and be a star!
Zlata’s Letter
Dublin, June 4, 1996
My dear friends,
It has been a while since I was spending that crazy little, but at the same time very big and very special week with you. And I still recall the moments, rewind the movie in my head, and remember all of you, read your letters. Listen to the tapes you gave me, look at the presents, look at the stain on my jacket from the flying drink (just kidding!)…All the memories you gave me will be with me forever, as they are something one should not forget. And I just want to thank you for all that, for your friendship, your understanding—that is something mankind needs desperately. And you certainly have it together with your strong ambition to make the world a better place by starting with yourselves and your surrounding. You are real heroes.
But I also want to thank you for doing what you are doing today for my country, for children and young people who truly need people like yourselves, who will unselfishly and in a 100% humane way do something for them. Thank you for not forgetting them, for shadowing the feeling of being abandoned the rest of the world