My Father is 6’6”
Do you play basketball?
Any sports?
Stand next to “insert relative name here” so I can see who’s taller.
Are you really that tall?
What size shoe do you wear?
How do you find pants to fit?
You’re so big. You make me feel so short.
How’s the weather up there?
I was 19 inches at birth but when I look at pictures when I was younger, I was always taller than other kids my age. Being tall was the bane of my existence. My posture was terrible. I always kneeled down in the front row of pictures. I wanted to be invisible. I was much taller than my classmates and the few friend that I had. I’m talking 5’6”, wearing a 7 size in elementary school tall and I hated it. I was socially withdrawn, awkward, and angry. Angry at some
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of my family who were most guilty of the teasing. Angry at my mother for choosing a man so tall to be my father. Most angry at my father for being so tall, passing along those genes to me, and for voluntarily not being in my life to help me deal with it. I entered high school at 5”11 ¾, with my shoulders slumped, and prepared for the worst.
I went to private school until high school and thus wouldn’t really know anyone. My one close friend who I entered public school with currently stands at 5’1”. There were stares but not as many as I expected. I attend a nationally recognized all-girls school and there are girls here who do play sports and are well over 6 feet fall. Being this tall wasn’t really a big deal Without the constant negative attention, I was able to be myself in all my funny, goofy, caring glory. The friendships I gained helped boost my confidence. I began seeing my height as an advantage. When I stand up and talk, people listen and they remember me. It took others to point out the positives and help me to feel better about myself. Kayla is a pretty common name. There is actually a girl in my graduating class with the exact same first and last name as I have. I am Kayla, you know “tall, funny, nice Kayla.” All of those comments that plagued me for years now became compliments and I became …show more content…
confident. You have such a presence. You should be a model. You have really nice long legs. Are your parents tall? Yes, my father is 6’6”…. At that point it had been years since I had a conversation with my father.
My mother and I saw him in the store when I was 12 and he ran out when we came face to face. My parents were young when I was born and my mother did her best to spare my feelings by telling me that it just takes some parents a little longer to “get it.” I vowed from that moment to never talk to him again. He made me tall and in my eyes he was a bad father. However, I found myself as teenager repeatedly telling people “Yes, my father is 6’6” ” Partially because of my father, I will never be average. I was able to get his contact information via social media. Although awkward at first, we talked and talked and talked some more. Because of all time that has passed, communication can sometimes still be a challenge. It’s getting a little better. There are still days that he doesn’t take my calls but I won’t stop trying. Part of who I am is because of him. I am confident, can reach things on tall shelves, can see everything at concerts, and have my father in my life. I am still 5’11 ¾ inches (I stopped growing at about 14) and wore 5 inch heels to the junior prom. I am proud of my height, my participation with the Stop Fatherless Now Movement, and my growing relationship with my
father.
As I walked into class on my opening day of 1st grade in a new school, I knew something was different about me. I looked around to see all my peers who were quite normal and polite, but there was just something off. I soon realized this was my height when I overheard the nicknames “Tree,” “Giraffe,” and my personal favorite “The Statue of Liberty.” As though my first day of school was not tough enough, my teacher pulled me to the side and began to talk to me about advanced education. Word spread like wildfire, as fast as it can in a rural elementary school, and now I was not only the girl who towered over her class but also the nerd. How lucky I was. Entering the jungle of a cafeteria was my next task. Kindergarteners screamed and ran around
Being 4'11 comes with many challenges. I constantly get used as an armrest, get asked things
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James had a big problem with his height. He is very insecure and unhappy with how tall he is. ”He left hand prints on the walls where the other boys could not reach” pg.fifteen. He tries to seem blithe about it but he just cannot be settled with it. He asks for help from librarians and doctors. He really wants to find an answer as to why he is as tall as he is. He tries to find books and asks doctors for a cure but he ends up with nothing. Not long after he learns his height is what makes him special.
Growing up as an only child I made out pretty well. You almost can’t help but be spoiled by your parents in some way. And I must admit that I enjoyed it; my own room, T.V., computer, stereo, all the material possessions that I had. But there was one event in my life that would change the way that I looked at these things and realized that you can’t take these things for granted and that’s not what life is about.
In 9th grade, I was nervous coming into high school because of what my cousins would tell me before the school year started. I weighed 110 and 5’6 tall, very small compared to the other students in my class. I had just recently quit football 2 years prior to me starting high school. Even though I wanted to play, every player that played seemed like giants to me. I kept procrastinating on when I was going to join the team, but year after year I slowly got taller and
Every year I would watch my friends grow taller while I would be stuck at the same height. I used to also be shy for a long period of time. I hated being around new people because it would take so long for me to grow comfortable with these people. Today I am the complete opposite. I enjoy when I get the opportunity to meet other because it gives me the chance to broaden my surroundings and have multiple groups of people. I am extremely outgoing now compared to the girl that I once was. I was the quiet person in the school that everyone had grown to know; although they could never pronounce my name correctly! For a while had begun cheerleading and joined student council and did a lot of activities to be active in my school. This stuck with me in middle school where I added track as well as the National Junior Honor Society. Being in these different extracurriculars at a young age helped me to learn how to speak with people, great teamwork skills as well as great time management skills which helped me in the long run because it was nothing new to me while other were just learning in middle
That wasn't exactly the case. Years elapsed. I got older. Puberty and life hit me. I was at that age where people start dating, going to parties, and do other activities. Surgery left me with scars that I wanted to keep a secret. It changed the way I dressed, what I thought about myself, and my social life. I did not want to wear anything that would reveal my scars. I never went swimming. I never had a boyfriend. I felt left out all the time. While everyone was out having fun, I was home alone. I was afraid to make friends or do things because I feared rejection and embarrassment. I was constantly worried of what others would think. One day I was waiting in the lunch line, and these girls behind me asked (loudly) why I walked so weird. They were laughing at me. I was humiliated. It wasn’t just a crooked back for me. When I looked in the mirror all I saw were my flaws. I saw an asymmetrical waistline. I saw a still slightly curved back. I saw my
Personal Narrative There lay her limp body staring up at us. Her cold eyes were no longer
It felt as though I didn’t fit in with the “popular” crowd. Because I wasn’t one of the “popular kids,” I was an easy target for bullying. I was judged by several of my fellow students because I was heavier than others. The continuous teasing from everyone made it hard to establish and build on my confidence. I tried to laugh off the jokes that were thrown my way, but internally, I was critiquing my appearance. I tried to change my eating habits, but I was never successful. It became a challenge to go to school because I was worried about things that might be said to me. Throughout the rest of middle school, I was constantly pestered until high school approached. The summer before high school began, I made a decision. I decided I wanted to change
What defines me as tall is my height obviously, I am 6’1 and I’m taller than basically everyone I know. My height play a big role in my identity, how it does is whenever someone else is defining me, they may say “Oh, He’s the tall guy” or something like that. Another way that being tall defines my identity is, whenever I’m at a store, there will be someone maybe too short to reach
SWISH! I turn my head to the right with a grin and see my mom cheering as I scored my first points of the season. The last game of the season I scored my first points of my middle school basketball “career.” Now sit back and relax as you read the story of how I got my first points in middle school basketball.
Leaving the bodies for last we walked down the drive to take a look. Several rifles and shotguns were leaned carefully again the big oak. Two handguns and some knives were on the grass in front of them. Four people dangled from a branch of the tree close enough to each other to bump like a weird wind chime. A young couple and the other twice their age at a guess from the gray hair and styles of dress. They were probably parents and a married son or daughter with their spouse. Other than being hung there were no injuries apparent on any of the four. From the condition of the bodies they had been dead about a day.
On the Monday October 27th, 2014, for the first time in 4 years I did not wake up at 5:30 in the morning, I was not putting on a green skivvy shirt and shorts. There was no formation, no one that was higher command I had to report to, telling me where I had to go, what time I had to eat breakfast, what was I doing this day or what our platoon plans were for the day. There were no PT (physical training) I had to do this morning. Instead, I woke up grab a regular t-shirt, khaki shorts, and my two sea bags full of clothing and gear that I collected during my time in the Marine Corps. I threw everything in my vehicle and drove from Camp Pendleton, California to Quincy, Illinois. Within two weeks I was accepted to Southern Illinois University Carbondale. For three days, I stayed at the
It is not like I never see him or talk to him; I do. He has been in and out of my life ever since. Occasionally he calls to say hi or ask how I'm doing; he is never consistent. Our convesations are short and very uncomfortable. When I am out shopping or running errands I sometimes run into him by chance, (or fate who knows). All of our truths and his lies are always there but never talked about. I can't remember the last time he called on my birthday, sometimes I wonder if he even remembers my birthday or even thinks of me when my birthday comes around every year. He never calls on holidays. It is really hard for me to talk to someone who was once my father, and now is a complete stranger. After all the things I know about my father, the strangest feeling I have is under the hurt and the pain, what I hope and pray for is day we might go fishing again.