For years, I was the quiet type in school. Yet it was noticeable when I moved to Georgia. It was a new environment and I lost the old joys from living in Oklahoma. Neighbors in Georgia were gated, segregated and poverty-stricken. What hit me the hardest was the loneliness. It was weird being the only kid at the playground. My mother told me not to talk to the kids on the other side of the apartment complex. She saw them as misbehaving ghetto kids, but those kids were my classmates.
School was an isolating experience. I wanted to have friends, but I did not measure up to their definition of blackness plus I was invisible. No one knew me and no one was related to me either. My older half brother dealt with similar issues, he did not fit in because of his clothes and lack of blackness. As for me, my blackness was taken away since I resembled Steve Urkel. Nerds were not cool, they were a social norm for bullying. Students saw sitcoms characters doing it without repercussion, while teachers and parents blamed the victims for not fighting back.
I did not fight back, even though I wanted to and even when the aggression got physical. There were some perks in being the quiet kid, such as trust among my teachers and being excluded from class punishments. As for girls, being quiet was not appealing, but they respected me.
Besides the bullying, I did gain friends who realized I was a regular kid that most people haven't cared to notice. My mother was not happy with my withdrawal from my peers. My quietness bothered her, but she was happy that my grades were up to par. It gave her bragging rights to her co-workers, while some were athletes and others were troubled youths, she would champion me as the model son who was book smart.
Most of the time, my quietness was once misunderstood as a learning disorder. I was gifted and surpassed my peers in standardized testing, yet I had to attend speech therapy in elementary school. Sometimes, I skipped sessions, it plagued me as an insult to my intelligence. One of my white teachers pulled me to the side to tell me to continue going to the sessions, even though it may feel embarrassing. She claimed she had smart friends who were in the same boat as me. I did not need the therapy and I did not have to continue with it once I graduated from elementary school. They assumed just because I did not talk much that it most mean I cannot talk at all. They brainwashed me to believe that I could pronounce words that start with the letter 'S.' I think because I did not talk much, I became monotone.
Ironically, this was the same teacher who gave me a letter of recommendation to enroll in a local magnet school. From middle to high school, I befriended other quiet kids of colors. My Indian friend was a cool guy who eventually branched out to live an exciting life. I had a long term friend named Nick, he was a gentle giant and our struggles were relate-able.
Quiet students are stereotyped and stigmatized cruelly as if something is wrong with them, when the problem stems from society. Sadly, some quiet students commit suicide and use hyper-masculinity via gun violence to ease the pain. In black communities, there are not many counseling programs that are unbiased and do not fall under the judgmental lens of religion and prayer.