When I Took a Stand...

About a year ago, I began my first day of ninth grade. I was now the top dog on campus and I could do whatever I wanted. Well, maybe not everything.

On the first day of any new grade, I love to go and find my friends so we can walk around and hang out before class. We always just walk around in a complete circle until we can either find all of our friends, or the tardy bell rings. When I started ninth grade I began to notice something. This was the first time that I actually felt old. By looking at all the seventh graders, I felt immensely wiser (and taller).

That morning, my friends and I were walking down a hallway that had a slight incline. Of course, since I had been at this school for two years I knew of its presence. But all of the sudden, a young, little seventh grader tripped. Her books went flying across the hall, and she face-planted into the concrete floor. As would be expected, everyone began laughing.


Though a part of me wanted to begin laughing, like all of my friends, something inside me clicked. I remembered being that young, and not knowing what was going on around me. I hated having the feeling that everyone was watching me, and the fact that this girl fell just tore at my heart. So I looked and my friends and said, "If your not going to help her, then you just need to leave her alone."

After the finally got over the beginning shock of me saying that, they all dispersed to their homerooms. I stayed and helped the girl pick up all of her books, and even showed her where her class would be. I was a minute late for my first class, but it was worth it.