Dealing with hate

​In my mind, the first day of school stands for something sinister. Years later, I still feel the pain of rejection. When I returned home, I told Mama I did not want to go to school anymore. I described to her what happened, and she responded. “Now that you know you are different, you must do your best to become number one in your class.”
“But why?” I objected.
“Because you are Jewish, and for that reason, you will have to fight for your right to belong.”
“I don’t want to fight. I do not know how Mama.”
“In time, you will figure it out.”
Mama was right. Time takes care of things.
The following morning, when I came to class, I immediately noticed which kids were on my side and which were not.
Hate and bullying became a constant issue throughout ten years of my formal education.
In the Soviet Union, we went to school six days a week for ten years to receive a High School Diploma.
Some students who did not want to graduate from High School chose to stop their education after the eighth grade. They did it out of necessity or inability to learn. Most families struggled to survive under the oppressive totalitarian regime. The students who stopped their education out of necessity became apprentices and learned a trade to help their families financially. Those challenged academically did the same thing because no one in the Soviet Union could stay home and play hooky.
For me, getting high grades was easy. Breaking the social barriers to fit in was hard.