(Editor's Note: Sometimes students will submit blog posts and their names are withheld unless they provide written permission from parents to publish their names.)
I walked into Ferguson with the tiny legs of mine, feeling happy to see my friends again. I didn’t get any “heys” I didn’t get any “hey how have you been?” but I got something similar or exactly to “OMG ___! DID U SHRINK?!?!?” or “OMG U USE TO BE THIS TALL TO ME AND NOW YOU’RE THIS TALL” I really don’t mind getting called short, but people using my head as an armrest is the annoying part.
A lot of people say they would rather be shorert than the heighth they are, but being short isn’t all that easy. I have to tippie-toe to reach my locker combination because I don’t want to change to a bottom locker. People make fun of me by making jokes like, “HEY _____, HOWS THE WEATHER DOWN THERE?!?!?” or “OH, I DIDN’T EVEN SEE YOU THERE!!!!” or “CAN YOU REACH THAT???”, but I get over it and laugh along. I get scared that in high school that I’m going to get bullied, like getting my books knocked out of my arms and being shoved into the lockers.
Being short can be an advantage to, though. Like getting through hallways is easier, you can cut in line without getting noticed, and avoid certain people. Hiding behind anybody to block the sun for me, always winning when I play hide and seek, and I always know where to go when we have to line up in height order.
Being short is my life. My parents are not that tall. 4’11 at the most. Being tall doesn’t run in my family, so I’m just going to have to deal with it and carry on with my short life.
FJHS 7th Grader