bullying
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Slumped beneath the weight of her backpack, my daughter slinked from the school bus steps. Her ocean-blue eyes had faded to stormy skies and her skin was muted. “How was your day?” I asked. I was concerned. Most days she raced off the steps with a grin so wide her eyes were shut. This day,…
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The year was 1993, I was in fifth grade and I’d finally convinced them (you know the ones – they had perfectly poof-y hair, the best bodysuits, gem-colored jeans, the newest sneakers and BOYFRIENDS) that I was cool enough to be part of their group. I was IN, which took some diligent work on my…
Danielle Dayney 