Thoughts of an Asperge

Quiet people or shy people are about the only persecuted groups not to have their rights aired or to be politically corrected. I suppose it makes sense really, as this group, by their very nature, would not stand up for themselves or make a big issue. We need a Rosa Parks figure.
I have numerous memories from school of my being invisible when I wanted to be noticed and sticking out when I didn't. When you're quiet and insular people don't feel the need, or are indeed often embarrassed, to even give you the honour of a name. We are often referred to as him or her with curled lip and mild disdain. This improves as your peers age but only because they learn to control their lips and cover their disdain.
I scored a goal in hockey one time in a games lesson (or a puck or whatever). It was a nice strike to which my team mates celebrated. They looked around expectantly for the scorer. Even though I was there it was like they couldn't see me. Someone asked 'Who scored it?'. Well, I couldn't just wave my arms and say 'It was me! It was me!' could I. I didn't want them to have to acknowledge that I existed - that might have been embarrassing for all concerned. I felt like Richard in the novel I read, 'Neverwhere' by Neil Gaiman, where his foray into London Below means his existence in London Above starts to fade. People can still see him but only if he speaks to them direct and then he slips out quickly from people's minds.
Well I was just like that at that moment. The lads were looking around for the scorer, some straight through me I thought, until one of the more perspicacious of the bunch pointed with an accusatory finger 'It was him!' It was obvious from the mumblings from the others that all the pleasure had gone from the goal and they were slightly irked at having to acknowledge me.
Him indeed. If I were to write my memoirs of school that's what I'd call them - him.
I wasn't the quietest in my class, though. I'm sure of it. I would've put myself at about 3rd or 4th quietest out of a class of 30. I seemed to have the double whammy of being invisible until the times when there was persecution or insults knocking about. Then I would magically illuminate to an intensity as strong as my previous invisibility. I would be like a witch in Salem in the 17th century at once finding herself wearing a pointy hat, carrying a broom and cackling. At these times I had a name - David this and David that said with a snarl and with much gnashing of teeth. I couldn't work it out at all why I was singled out and the other quiet ones were left alone. It was like I was some kind of Jesus Christ figure for all the quiet boys and girls ' I would suffer so that they could be saved. They had the luxury of being able to just sit back at these times of name calling and mind their own business (and oft-times joined in the laughter, the traitors).