On June 4, 1980, in response to the Florida Legislature's raising the legal drinking age from 18 to 19, the St. Petersburg Times published the following letter to the editor:
I did not write this letter.
In fact, the very first thing I ever heard about this letter was when a classmate of mine walked into first period and said, "I didn't know you were 18."
I wasn't. In fact, I was 16 in June of 1980.
I don't know of anyone else named Tina Sergent who lived in St. Petersburg, Florida and who was 18 years old in 1980. So, unless there was another Tina Sergent who wrote that letter to the editor and had it published, the only other possibility I can think of is that someone wrote that letter and signed my name to it.
My piano teacher even asked me about it, and my father's response was that probably one of my "friends" wrote it.
Here's my question:
Why?
I may not be able to find out, after 40 years, who wrote this letter and why, but I'd like to know why.
Was this a calculated attempt to embarrass and humiliate me?
To be honest, I would not be surprised. I went through public school and didn't have a year where there wasn't a bully.
This week, I proofread a harassment case. The lawyer doing the deposition commented that there wasn't any touching involved.
That comment reminded me of what abusers sometimes say: "I never laid a hand on them." "I never hit them." "I never touched you."
I never got in a knock-down, drag-out fight during my years in school. I did get punched in the back one time on the bus, and I hit back twice.
But I: was blocked on a sidewalk and in the hallways, had my books stolen, had stuff played "keep-away" with, had my shoes thrown in the trash, was gossiped about (even was falsely accused of shooting crumbs at lunch one time), and for me, the crowning insult: the embarrassing question. I was shown a picture of a naked person and then asked later, did you see such and such? I wore and Adidas shirt to school and was later asked if I went to the Adidas concert. I had my attempts to play volleyball mocked. I was asked, will you do my homework for me? I was asked, can I borrow your textbook? from a person I didn't trust. I had a boy attempt to shove a ring onto my finger. That same person also asked me if my little sister drank milk from my breasts. I had a group of people yell at me that the bus was coming, and when I ran, they laughed at me because the bus wasn't coming. When they repeated that trick and I didn't fall for it, someone said, "You'd walk if the bus came, wouldn't you?" and then threw a piece of paper in my face.
And this is not the end of it.
So I think I can be forgiven for suspecting that that letter to the editor signed with my name was a calculated attempt to embarrass me.
Here's what I would like to know, and may not get an answer to:
What in God's name did I ever do to you that you treated me like this?
What did I do to you that was so horrible?
Why did you do this to me?
Why did you target me?
And why was the system around me structured so that I feared that if I fought back, I would be the person punished and the bullies would not be?
This week has not been a good week. Like everyone in the US, I am tired of living under the chronic stress of COVID. I am disheartened by the racial animus in this country. (I am not referring to peaceful protests, nor am I referring to African-Americans' insistence on "we need to expose history, all of it, and we need to be heard." One can be passionate and insistent without being hateful.) I dislike the animus between the parties as the election draws closer. In fact, I hold out very little hope of this country ever getting better.
I put in a lot of energy this week into work and drained myself of so much physical energy that I took a day off on Friday because I was just sapped. When I don't feel well physically, my mind turns absolutely black, and sadly, remembering the bullying is one place where it goes . . . and this is one question it asks.
Why?
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
