Diary 51

Dear Diary,

Basketball for Bosnia was an event to remember. Ms. Gruwell and her

students held a tournament at the university to help donate all sorts of food

and medical supplies for kids in Bosnia. There were over 500 people in

attendance and besides basketball, there was a cheer camp for the little

brothers and sisters and a talent show at halftime. I got to play on a team

even though I’m not in her class. My team was Anne’s Angels (in honor of

Anne Frank), and I even got to keep the jersey. No one really cared who

won or lost; we were just having fun to help people in need.

I want to get into her class so badly after today. They’re so much more

than a “class,” they act like a family. Ms. Gruwell does things that are so

smart, yet so simple. I feel as though I were already part of their team

because no one cared what color I was or how I looked. All they cared

about was coming together for the same cause. Being accepted for who you

are without having anyone snicker at you was great—but it’s not something

I’m used to.

It brought back a lot of memories from my past. In my honors class,

I’ve never really been that comfortable. I’ve always been the oddball and

have never felt accepted. I feel like I’m always trying to prove that I belong.

I remember feeling like that back in the day.

I grew up surrounded by fat people. My mom—overweight; my

brother—overweight; my sister—overweight; my aunt, yeah, you guessed

it—overweight! As a child, I always thought, Why me? Why did I have to

be overweight? Why did I have to be the child that didn’t play sports

because I was overweight? I couldn’t climb the gym ropes, I couldn’t swing

on the swings, and I couldn’t do a pull-up. I thought nothing could be done

about my weight. I thought that was the way I was supposed to be, FAT!

Jumping rope and having the other kids yell, “EARTHQUAKE! Run

for cover!” really hurt. People often told me, “Why do you let people talk to

you that way? Speak up for yourself,” but I didn’t have the courage to do

so. I was afraid to say anything for fear they might say, “Shut your fat ass

up!” So I thought I would save myself the embarrassment.

My sixth grade year was hell! I hardly had any friends and I couldn’t

look anyone in the face. All I could think about was food. By the time I

completed sixth grade, I weighed over 200 pounds. That’s a lot of damn

weight for a sixth grader. I wore a size 26 to 28 and I had no confidence in

myself. I thought I was ugly! I had no boyfriend, I didn’t go to parties, and I

had no social life. I pretty much kept to myself. When some ignorant kids

would see me at lunch, they would say, “Your fat ass don’t need to be

eating shit!” I would just ignore them, but after awhile, the comments were

really hard for me to ignore. It was difficult for me to believe that someone

would take away my self-esteem, just to gain their own. The only reason

why I didn’t resort to kicking their skinny butts was because I didn’t want

to be known as fat and a bully, because then no one would talk to me.

I felt alone, ashamed, and left out of everything. I would go home after

school and think of things I wanted to say to them, but never had the

courage to say. I hated them and myself. I felt as if I was in a shell and there

was no way for me to get out.

Rather than feeling sorry for myself, I turned to books and school to

feel good. Suddenly, I was getting straight As. School allowed me to creep

out of my shell slowly, but surely.

Basketball for Bosnia practically was a rebirth. All my insecurities flew

out the window. When the tournament was over, we formed a Soul Train

line and danced on the basketball court. I can’t believe that I had the

courage to go through the center of the line and dance in front of 500

people. Everybody went crazy, they cheered me on and waved their hands

in the air. I felt wanted, like I was a part of a family, I wasn’t just another

face in the class, I had a chance to express myself and be a star!

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