Free to Be Me in my Wonderland

When I was in elementary school, I was free.
     I was free from the prejudice that is too often acquired as people age; I was free from the hurt that comes with it.

Those were simpler times.

     I still remember running around the grassy playground on a warm school day, pretending I was the Pokémon Pikachu battling my friends Charmander, Bulbasaur and Squirtle. Our role- play was complete with lively sound effects and hand gestures. None of us cared what others might have thought. In fact, being the curious toddlers we were, our classmates were more likely to join in than to judge us.

But that was when we were all naïve. 
     As I got older, I began to notice more differences between myself and my classmates. It was small at first: asking to borrow scissors from a particular person or sitting by a particular group at lunch. But, this chasm inevitably grew wider as I progressed through elementary school. By the time I hit middle school, distinct groups formed - the Asians, the Populars, the Outcasts, and so on. Sure, there was some overlap, but people almost always reverted back to those groups.
     Usually this grouping didn't bother me. I was content with sitting with my fellow Asian friends. Even so, sometimes I couldn't help but look over at the group of popular girls who all looked so incredibly happy in their Ugg boots and tons of friends and wonder "What [is] the secret? What [do I] lack?" 
     Fortunately, these thoughts were never more than a small nag. Unlike what happens to Pecola in The Bluest Eye, they never became an obsession. It took me a few years, but eventually I came to the conclusion that it's okay to be different. I've learned to be proud of who I am, and to not be ashamed of how others may see me. -MC