On the way up the bleachers, when I had rebuffed the Latinos, I had split my leg open and it was hard for me to walk. But, sometimes, I guess, you have to do what is necessary, when a Skinhead isn't on hand. I totally agree with Skinheads that girls should not fight. We are just too fragile and break easily. Which brings me to my point of why girls should not fight. She did not press charges, so I was released to my father's custody. After they got me out of the gym, I had to deal with the cops and such. It took three full-sized men to pull me off of her. I lunged back at her, slamming her head between the bleachers and pounding her face. Then, one of them called me 'Hitler,' unleashed a barrage of profanity against me and my Dad and took a swipe at me. Just at the moment he turned around, I told the Latinos - nicely, actually - to quit their acting up. Then I caught, out of the corner of my eye, those little devils throwing ice at my Dad and mocking him by raising their hands in the air, as if they were saluting Hitler.Īfter the game was over and we shook hands with the other team, I walked up the bleachers towards my Dad. As the game was coming to an end, I kept seeing my Dad snap around and look behind him, like he kept getting hit by something. One night, at my volleyball game, my homecoming game, I spotted this gang of Latinos sitting behind my father. This really irked a group of Latino girls, which would constantly rag and attack me. The chief problem was that I was drug-free, white and proud of my blood and heritage. I used to come home in tears, because I was getting suspended from school all the time for defending myself against the Latinos. I got excellent grades, 3.9 - 4.2, but grew more and more resentful of school and conditions around me. I would get in fights, too, having to stick up for myself instead of knuckling under to what the Latino girls said and wanted. He, even, was often kicked out of the stands for getting in fights and defending himself when the Latinos would call him a 'Nazi.' Seems that our simply being of German-descent was a constant irritant to them. I was known as a really good athlete and my Dad had a reputation for being my biggest fan but, also, for standing up against Latinos. It was a small enough town that everyone pretty much knew each other. I grew up in a small country town, Shasta Lake, California. Being aware and having pride Sherri Graeff

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