It was a Wednesday, a normal Wednesday for every other 8th grader, but for me this day I would remember forever. It was my first day of school in a new town and a new state. I can remember the heat, over a hundred in the mid of the day. I then looked next to me as an older student gave me a glare and then stepped forward in front of me. I stepped into the bus and as my head passed the first seat I heard the sounds of twenty kids whispering. I knew what was on their mind; I knew the obvious. The obvious was I was wearing an egg shell white cowboy boy hat, dark blue plaid shirt, midnight blue jeans. After taking a couple of turns, this rather large boy in front of me turns around in his seat and stares at me for a second, then asks “where did you park your horse?”
This was my first day in Arizona, I was from North Carolina, this was how I dressed form day to day there, but here I was a freak. The bus stopped at the front of the school and I got off, I can see girls hugging each other from the long summer, I saw a boyfriend and girlfriend kissing, as if it was the last time. I tired to become invisible, but this was soon destroyed when the two girls stopped hugging and looked at me; then the boyfriend glanced and stopped kissing his girlfriend. Smiles went to their faces, I was the greatest joke they have ever heard. After this I never thought it was going to end, I was in the impossible nightmare that you cannot win.
I went to all my classes but they all ended up being the same, not anyone talking to me, not even teachers, only laughs. Then my forth hour bell rang, it was lunch time. Now everyone could see me and my ridiculous clothes, all the other students wore branded t-shirts and blue jeans, but not me. I went into the lunch room and sat down by my self, pulled out my turkey sandwich and ate. That’s when two boys from the table to the right stood up and walked over, I was ready for the joke that was to come, they asked “do you listen to country music” and I answered with a southern accent “ya’ll think I like country because of the clothes I wear, well I don’t, I like rock.” Even though as strange as that is, we became the best of friends for that day forward.
This is what I believe; good friends don’t judge you by the way you dress or talk. Those friends that I made on that first day of hell still are there for me. It shouldn’t matter what someone wears or what they look like. It shouldn’t matter that I had had an accent; it’s the understanding of a person inside that counts. My two friends who approached me knew that I wasn’t weird or defective, just a new student trying to make a few friends. I learned this on that day and for as long as I live and I will never forget it. Later in high school, in my English class we had a new student who was from another state. I remembering how I felt on my first day walked over and introduced myself and then him to my friends. We helped him settle in and helped him make new friends. There was one major difference between his first day and mine; he didn’t wear a cowboy hat or dark blue jeans. He was luckily dressed “normally,” wearing branded t-shirts and jeans. I believe this that true do not judge or make fun of because you’re different. They accept you for who you are.