Our class was the loudest, most obnoxious, and most outspoken of the four sixth grade classes--demonstrated by the times teachers slammed our classroom door shut and told us we were too loud. Some of the most rambunctious kids were in our class, along with kids who were the easiest targets for bullies.
The bullying continued every day, until our teacher, Mr. Kondrakiewicz, noticed the toll it took on the relationships in our class.  Name calling, purposely damaging people’s projects, and encircling the weak links in a corner and chucking volleyballs at them posed as common occurrences. Middle school was supposed to be fun and not a place of torture. And to some, that’s all it was--a sentence to an emotional prison.
Not only did the bullies need a serious reality check, but the bystanders did as well. Mr. K couldn’t let the bullying continue.
“We all need a good lesson on how to respect and care for one another. This class won’t continue to treat each other the way we currently are,” he said.
We were asked what we thought of making a class constitution--a document that laid out the rules of conduct for how we were to treat each other.
After a brainstorming session of scribbling rules and words, we created a constitution. Even the bullies participated. For once, we were united. We had a constitution party. And just like the Founding Fathers, we all signed our constitution. After signing, we devoured the cake Mr. K brought in for us and celebrated our new class.
What I once thought was a meaningless piece of paper now resembled more. Mr. K taught us an important lesson--no matter how loud, obnoxious, or outspoken the class, everyone deserves respect. No one should be called names, have their property damaged, or be pelted with volleyballs.
Signing that constitution provided us with a sense of togetherness and a sense of being a twenty-five person family. We learned to accept that we are all human, and we learned without a common goal or purpose, nothing can be accomplished.