The focus of my blog for today is from reading My Name is Margaret (Maya Angelou) . In short, it is about a woman named Margaret, who worked for Mrs. Cullinan, and the hardship she endured day in and day out. Margaret was called different names and disrespectful ones at that. She did so much including coming to work earlier and leaving later than she had to. The mental abuse she was getting kept going to the point she had enough and decided to quit by breaking Mrs. Cullinan's most favorite possessions. In my point of view, I am with Margaret on this in some ways and some ways not. Margaret tried to work around the cheap word jabs that were thrown her way by the old ladies. Mrs. Cullinan, I believe knew her friends were wrong but to keep her friends happy did not do anything. Mrs. Cullinan even came out of her shell and showed her true colors of being a racist. Margaret started out wanting to please Mrs. Cullinan by paying attention to whatever needed to be done around the house. But when it came to serving Mrs. Cullinan's friends, things started to turn. The old ladies changed Margaret's name to Mary to suit themselves. For example, they said Margaret was too long of a name to say, which to me is a disrespect to her name. An old lady with a specked-faced called her "dumb and a sweet little thing." Other people that have been working there did not stand up for themselves. Margaret was a stronger individual who was not going to put up with it. She was trying to find ways to quit the job. She went to work late and left early, left dishes dirty, and stopped polishing the silver correctly. All this in the hope that another servant, Miss Glory, would tell their boss but never did. Margaret finally had a plan that involved breaking a casserole dish and two green glass cups that were favorites of Mrs. Cullinan. In which Mrs. Cullinan's true colors came out as far as calling Margaret the "N" word. Margaret then left the house with that being done: I personally would have quit without damaging anything because it would not make me any better than those old ladies. But I understand a person can only take so much mental abuse before taking drastic measures. When I came to the United States, after being adopted, peopled looked at me differently. I was also called names and pushed around because I was different. Knowing only Spanish did not help either. I used to get angry but never did anything because I did not know how to solve these kinds of problems. I felt isolated and alone at school since no one knew how I felt. I picked up English really fast to know what those kids were doing to me was wrong. There was no one to help me through my struggles not even my adopted parents. I kept getting picked on through out elementary school. But I could not stand up for myself until one day during recess I was playing with other students when a kid named Jason kicked me below the belt. When that happened, I knew I had to change my stance of not doing anything. I promised myself that next time I get picked on, I would "change the status quo". I remember walking home from elementary school with a neighbor of mine at the time. These two other students from the school were calling me names but I kept walking, getting mad. Then all of a sudden, I felt a kid putting me in a headlock but I flipped him over me. I had enough and I was making my stand here and now. The two kids jumped me but I fought back to the point I broke an umbrella and hit one in the face. I got home without getting hurt. After that I was never bullied by anyone and I would not let anyone get bullied.
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