An open letter to my old school

An open letter to my old school, classmates, teachers and office

I remember being outside you, an excited 10 year old starting a new school after moving from an old school that had closed. I remember I couldn't find out of you because there were so many rooms and halls on my first day. I remember being happy because I finally moved from the old school where I used to be bullied. I remember moving away from my friends.

The first day:
There were starting 512 pupils because my old school had closed and you were the most popular school after that. I met my new teachers and my new classmates. I were an excited 4th grader that thought she was ready to take everything you had to offer for me. Yet I didn't know I'd have some of my worst years in my life so far.

4th grade
You would think my first year on one of the best schools then would be amazing don't you? Think again.
I got bullied almost everyday, my teachers didn't know what to do because I was the one being violent when being bullied, I was an easy victim for the bullies. I would be the one getting send to the office because I was the one hitting, kicking and crying.
I always got sent to the office.
The bullies always bullied me for looking more Danish than North American (the country I'm from, which I don't wanna tell but they're very nationalistic here and have a horrible hatred for Danes even though many are half Danes here.)
I remember the day meeting one you. I had been bullied and was walking around outside not wanting to get back into class. I remember you called after me, telling me to get inside, but I thought you would be like the others. Blaming me for what the bullies had done. But you were different. You had been bullied in your school years too, you lived in a city that were very nationalistic and your father being Danish. You could relate to me, you never blamed me. You knew it wasn't my fault and that I was violent if I didn't get what I wanted.
And from then on you were one of my best friends, best teachers and one of the only ones that I could talk to. I got less violent.
I remember a teacher taking me out one day telling me I would have to go to a special class for people that were violent or were the ones bullying people. I never knew what it were but I know to this day that I should never have been the one going to that class but the bullies should have. I didn't belong to that class. That were the year I met depression for the first time.
Let's not forget that February month I faked being sick because I didn't want to face the bullies. I wasn't at school the whole month.

5th grade
5th grade was less painful for me than 4th grade in the first half year. I wasn't in the special class anymore, I finally got sent back to my own class. I still got bullied but on a lower level. You helped me get through it, you were the teacher we had the most, "class teacher" and I was always excited when we should have you because I knew the bullies would be scared to bully me while you were there.
December 1st were the day changing again. You had been my class teacher for the past 6 months and that had been the first months of this school that's been my best. You had been asked to work at a place helping teachers that had traumatic experiences with pupils. You had wanted to help teachers so much and wanted to work at that place. So you moved and we got a new class teacher.
I had had you for [the language spoken here] and I already hated you. You gave things to people. In front of the whole class. You said things that would hurt me and change my look at what life really were. I met depression for the second time this year.

6th grade
I started fighting against you and your things you would say. I started looking forward to school everyday. Yet I was still not completely happy and had still a little depression from the year before that. I got one of my favorite teachers I've ever had that year, Danish. Though she were a teacher with you. You that I hated (and still do) so much. My then Danish teacher that would later become my English, Spanish teacher and class teacher with another person.
I was still traumatized from what you said to me. I still got hurt and angry at you for what you said and did in front of the whole class.
You have phones to those who couldn't. Phones you had found around the school. Again in front of the whole class and you only gave a few people phones. You have all of us candy but I had figured out what you wanted to. You wanted to buy us, wanted to buy that we liked you.
I only remember being bullied once this year and that's the year when I really got better mentally and started accepting the things even though I still had you as a teacher.
7th grade
The year that I got you, my favorite teacher on this school. You were my Danish teacher. And a really good one. You knew what I wanted and you knew how to teach me the right way and without buying me.
My class teacher from 6th grade were still my class teacher but my English teacher (the one I mentioned earlier) and you made me forget that I had such a bad teacher. I'm forever grateful for that.
I remember getting my first grades this year. Every 7th grade in my whole country has a huge project to prepare everyone for the 3 last years of elementary school. I got an A. I'm still to this day proud because even though I still had a bad teacher, I managed to shook her and snatch an A.