Comment: Richey G reminded me of a chapter in my life

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Richey G reminded me of a chapter in my life

When my dad got transfered to Hawai'i, we relocated there.

I began intermediate school, 7TH grade. I don't know why, but my Mom always dressed me like I was going to a Catholic school. So of course, my first day at Aiea Intermediate was harsh. The kids all looked at me like, "Whoooa, talk about lost, who flew this coocoo into our nest?"

At lunchtime a girl marched up to me and said, "Hey Haole, I hear you been callin' me one whore, eh? B-----!"

This was the first girl to say anything to me, and I looked at her, like "Wha?" as the truth is, I didn't understand pidgeon language yet.

So I asked her to repeat the question, and she "Screamed it at me, ready to smack me."

So I said, "I don't know you. I'm new here. This is my first day at school."

By then, about six really tough looking girls came up and stood behind her. She says, "You ucking Houle piece of -hit, I'm going to beat your a$$ so hard, -itch!! You callin' my friends liars?"

They all looked at me like they were all going to beat me up on the spot.

So I said, "I don't know any of you. I never said anything to anyone. I don't know anyone, it's my first day at school. I don't want to fight."

So she said, "You lying -itch, now you are calling my frinds liars and we are going to beat your a$$ so you never come here again, -itch!. You bettah meet us in A batroom after school, or we'll catch your a$$ and beat you back to the mainland -itch!!"

So, they left, flipping me off, and I wondered, "Where's was A batroom?"

I found it. It was empty, and I looked around and put my books on the bookshelf under the mirror and then jumped up on the shelf and waited for them.

At first, two girls peeked inside and then I heard them run away. And then the girls piled in, must have been about 30 of them. They stood on the toilets, they crammed that bathroom so that when the girl who accused me of calling her one whore got there, didn't have much room to fight.

I tried to talk her, and all of them, out of beating me, but to no avail. They pulled me down off the bookshelf and they beat me, hit me with books, binders, stabbed at me with pencils, and were screaming at me calling me all kinds of names. They beat me from one end of the batroom to the other. My arms were limp. My hands were rubber. I couldn't get one punch back to defend myself. My body would not cooperate with my mind. I was bruised, bleeding, slapped, socked, punched and then as I was going down under the last sink, next to the trash can, the girl started kicking me and kicking me, and my brain clicked and said, "It's ok now if you kick her back".

So, I grabbed onto the rim of the sink as I was going down and I kicked her.

She fell. She groaned. She did not get up. The bathroom began emptying out. She couldn't talk. She began turning blue. The teachers began running in. Some ran out to call an ambulance, for her.

I had kicked her in her solar plexis, and since she had a weak heart, her heart failed. The teachers marched me up to the principles office, where there was a police man. The teachers accused me of starting the fight. My parents were called, only my Mother showed up, and she agreed that I should be suspended for three days. I was warned, put on a police list as a problem, and needed to be closely watched when I returned.

I was afraid to return. My parents wanted to believe me, but they also wanted to appease the establishment, so they grounded me for weeks.

When I did return, the nerds, runts, weirdos all introduced themselves to me as my new best friends, and then the girls who had beaten me, started calling me, "Killah!" That was my nickname in high school too.

I wound up being one of the most popular kids at school, and I hung out in the batrooms and talked these girls out of beating up every new haole that came to our school. Of course the toughest boy at school had a major crush on me, and that gave me even more moxy to protect those haole kids like me. For four years, our school didn't have one haole get the crap beat out of them. I was very active in school, ran track, on the swim team, surf team, and my one year book, has every page covered with signatures, hand made cartoons, love letters, and best wishes, and "You my friend", writtin dozens of times.

So, the moral to the story is, it doesn't matter if everybody beats you down. Be true to yourself, and listen to that inner voice, follow it with all your heart and soul. If you are wrong, cop up to it, and if you are right, help others who want help. In the end, you win.

I think those who upvote me know that about me, even if they didn't KNOW that, they are in tune, as their inner voice and mine are parrallel, united, and fearlessly seeking TRUTH and JUSTICE in a world that has other plans.

God Bless YOU Nonna and RichyG, and ALL my brothers and sisters on DP, the downvotes don't hurt. They help me see where I'm wrong or stick to my convictions.. I'm stickin with Ron Paul, Rand Paul, and not asking anyone for anything, but maybe, if they could just be kind, that would be nice, but not everyone is nice, so there we have it.

It's not about Romney, it's about being heirs to Ron Paul's message and what is the best way to empower it. Peace.