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The Invisible Girl

As told to Perl Hertz

Coming out of eighth grade, I had high hopes for my high school years. In eighth grade I was one of those girls who never really made it. I wasn’t particularly talented or smart or popular. I just was. Esther Goldstein.* Not exactly part of the scenery, but definitely not the type of girl who stuck out in any way.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

So it was that summer, the one before I entered high school, that I had such strong hopes and dreams.… Now I was having a fresh start in a new environment. Maybe now as I entered a new school, it would be my chance to finally get noticed. To gain recognition. To make new friends. To belong. Those wishful thoughts put a bounce into my step all summer long.

It was with those dreams and hopes, and carefully chosen shoes and school bag, that I walked into ninth grade. The very beginning of the year was a blur of navigating around a new building, getting used to new routines, meeting new staff members, and learning the ins and outs of high school. But as the blur of a new school and new teachers turned into routine, it slowly dawned on me that all my hopes and dreams … well, that’s just what they were, hopes and dreams. Maybe I still have to give it some time, I remember thinking.

But as the school year went by, I realized that time was not helping. If anything, it was making the situation worse. Somehow as everyone else got settled into school, I found myself once again on the sidelines. As groups began forming, and cliques came together, I so desperately wanted to be accepted into one of them. But somehow when the recess bell rang, a feeling of dread overcame me.

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