Bad Actors Don’t Get To Be Actors

Gather around, and let me tell you the story of the classmate from Hell. I am on the autism spectrum. During my senior year in high school, I was part of the school’s news program, as well as a theater kid. In both the news program and theater classes, I had a classmate. We got along well for most of the year — until we didn’t.

For reasons I can’t remember, the classmate started to menace me in the news program’s class, talking s*** about me and kicking my backpack around. I tried to deal with it as best as I could and let it slide off my back so that I wouldn’t worry my mother, but the teachers in the school’s special education program saw what was going on and, while initially respecting my wish not to involve my mother, decided she needed to be made aware of the situation. It was a good decision, in hindsight.

The teachers told this classmate not to bother me anymore, and she retaliated by trying to spread rumors about me. She claimed I tried to have her thrown off of the theater team that would be going to a state competition — a bald-faced lie. Ironically, as a result of her continuing to menace me, she actually was thrown off the theater team before we went to state, where I wound up winning “Best In State Actor”.

She was certain not to bother me after that.

The last I remember anything about her, she had been hired at a call center where my mother worked. Mum made certain to introduce herself to her as “[My Name]’s mother” and make it awkward for her.