Personal Narrative: Monkey Bars

The monkey bars were hot from a long day in the sun, but my hands still grasped them with all my strength. It was finally Friday and that meant free time at the playground in Physical Education. All that could be seen were fifth graders swinging on the monkey bars, crawling under steps, climbing poles, and running here and there playing tag. Our jovialness could be sensed from a mile away with our broad smiles and loud laughs giving into how much we were enjoying ourselves.
My curly brown locks were tied up in a high ponytail as I swung around the monkey bars with my best friend Jacqueline. A couple of our classmates, boys, started to join us in our diversion and soon the group became fairly large. I had always been a shy person and

the large crowd began to intimidate me. Sensing my disturbance, the boys began murmuring amongst themselves. “Rainforest! Rainforest! Rainforest!” they all shouted at me. Oblivious of what they meant by saying rainforest, I kept on swinging. Soon they started chanting it more and more adding “Josselin your hair is a rainforest!” and “I could get lost in there!” The effect of their words was unlike any physical pain I had ever endured. Tears filled my eyes and soon Niagara Falls was found on my face. Their words hurt especially since it was something about myself I could not control.
Sobbing and confused the bell rang for us to go home.

The teasing, unfortunately, continued as I tried to get away from them heading to the back of the school. Jacqueline soon began chasing them away but their shouts only grew louder. Notwithstanding to hear their words anymore, I decided to go inside the building and report it to my reading teacher, Ms. Garza. I had cleared my face by the time I reached her room and entered with determination to end my own bullying. The word rushed out of mouth like lighting as new tears appeared in eyes. Ms. Garza’s face turned from concern to anger as she asked me to name everyone who had been teasing me. Reassuring me that my hair was beautiful, she set me off to go home. I kept on with the fear of having to face them the next day.
Thankfully, the boys had been reprimanded and never did I have to endure their insults again. However, the memory has always remained and great preoccupation for others’ opinions grew from that. My self-esteem was hurt and the concern remained in me. Every morning deciding how to style my hair was greatly influenced with the worry of concealing the nature of my hair, as to not let it seem that I had a rainforest someone could get lost in. The self-consciousness ate at me through the years, but with time people matured as did

I.
Even though fragments of pain can still be found in my heart, compliments on my hair have grown dramatically helping me slowly forget the offensiveness of the boys' words. I have gained much confidence and with boldness have exposed the texture of my hair more frequently with strength to accept myself. Believing I can be and do anything without worrying myself with people who try to put me down, is a weight lifted off my shoulder. I concentrated on what could make me better, how this exposure helped me grow internally, and how I have learned to take the good from people, to leave the negative to them, and to keep on going.