Christine L. Carter Ph.D. on May 25, 2010
When I was in fifth grade, I was teased ruthlessly each morning on the bus to school. I had frizzy hair I tried to style like Farrah Faucet’s and buck teeth. I was awkward and had a tendency to brown-nose. Worst of all, my bus stop was the last one, giving the mean kids ample time to plot how they would torture me. (A favorite was simply to throw berries at me.)
When I was in fifth grade, I was teased ruthlessly each morning on the bus to school. I had frizzy hair I tried to style like Farrah Faucet’s and buck teeth. I was awkward and had a tendency to brown-nose. Worst of all, my bus stop was the last one, giving the mean kids ample time to plot how they would torture me. (A favorite was simply to throw berries at me.)