Exclusive Excerpt from That Time I… Survived My Teens

by Craig Barker

My entire academical path boils down to whether or not someone called me a faggot in the classroom. If they did, I failed. If they didn’t, I succeeded.

This really hit home with me when I was placed into the top math class in high school—a position I didn’t get to keep for long. You see, sat right next to me in that class was Steven (what ever happened to bullies being dumb?). and he quickly became the class clown who everyone loved, including the teacher.

Speaking of the teacher—he was an asshole. He loved to ask questions, gaze upon the raised hands, then pick the one person who didn’t hold it up.

That person was me. It was always me.

And it wasn’t that I didn’t know the answers, but I could always see Steven’s smug grin out of the corner of my eye; I could always hear the stifled laughter from the girls behind me, mocking me for my nervous stutter and uncomfortable demeanor.

If anxiety is learned, then that is what I learned from my math class. I even went so far as to ask my teacher not to pick me out of the crowd anymore because it made me feel uncomfortable, and the next lesson we had together he made sure to pick me for every question—to the point it became a running gag, and everyone laughed as I sat in silence, wanting to be anywhere but there.

By the time school was over, I had a D in math (and I don’t mean the fun kind). My love for the subject died in that room, and it never resurfaced again.

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