My first year in high school I had a problem with a girl whose name is long forgotten. Compared to other tales of bullying I’ve heard, this was a pretty mild episode. But at the time, I was utterly shocked and became extremely upset. She regularly came to biology class late and made sure every time to pass by my desk to hiss some awful remark at me. “Scum,” she said. What? Who was she? How had she noticed me? What had I done to her? I had no idea. I tried acting oblivious, but she then started disrupting the lab experiments I did. I worked harder at ignoring her and she worked harder at distressing me. I dreaded the couple minutes at the start of every biology class when I sat in fear of what she might do or say on the way in this time.
In retrospect, how could she have actually done anything there in the middle of a classroom? Perhaps that was what my parents thought. They were relatively uninterested in my sorry tale and counseled ignoring the girl and even suggested the ridiculous idea of being kind to her. Clearly they did not understand. I just could not communicate the extent of my terror. I did not know what she was going to do next; I only knew that whatever it was, it would be worse than before.
One morning before school I stood outside with Audree waiting for school to start. I told her my story. She got mad on my behalf. She also got mad at me. “You’ve got to do something about this,” she said, in a tone that suggested I was at fault for letting this happen. “My dad says that if someone hits you, you should hit them back, but harder. You need to tell her off.” Her dad certainly had a lot to say on pretty much every subject. What he said was usually pretty challenging and he could be the subject of an entire story. Audree’s advice made the situation worse in a way. Not only did I have to wait for the little terrorist to strike next, but I had to contemplate the idea that I was somehow responsible because I wasn’t doing anything about it. I thought and thought (and got mad at Audree for not understanding either).
A day or so later I was walking down the hall between classes when someone punched me in the back. I wheeled around to see the girl. Audree’s words must have planted a seed which germinated right then and there. I shoved her back all the way to the lockers, pushed her down to the floor and said “don’t you ever do that again” in a low, husky voice I didn’t know I possessed. Then I just turned around and walked away. I heard her scream, “Me and my friends are going to get you after school.” I shook like a leaf. What had I done? Everything was really going to get bad now. For a week or so, when I walked home from school I worried about who might be behind every bush or in every alley.
But I could not have predicted what actually happened, which was nothing. She never bothered me again
(p.s. that's a random building unrelated to the high school)
I lived a life of being bullied throughout my high school years. Those were the worst 6 years of my life. I retaliated once and beat the snot out of this one kid, then felt guilty the rest of the year. He left me alone but there were others. Then I changed, and something happened inside, no one was ever going to do that again.
We're all really just a bunch of animals, trying to do our best. I'm glad you stood up for yourself in the end and hope that girl remembers and regrets her behavior now as an adult.
I was called names all my school years being tall and a little shy (can't believe that today). But you are right about the difference today. I hear these stories and try to imagine not being able to come home and have peace. Social media used for bullying is a frightening thought.
good to hear the story unfold. I too was bullied for being deaf, fat and speckky four-eyes. My parents too thought it inconsequential and eventually I think I too became a bit of a bully by way of retaliation - and I am a much ashamed of that. Is today worse? maybe, but to the bullied it is terrifying at any age. Well done for telling the story and btw I like the pic too.
A very interesting story and love the 13 yr old photo. I don't remember being bullied by other kids at school. I am admiring of your commitment to this project of self stories.
Great story Francoise, My eldest son was bullied at school and nothing ever seemed to make it better permanently. I am a firm believer in Karma and have taught my children that what you give out will come back and bite you. he has had the last laugh he is extremely successful and well respected at work and has some great loyal friends. He may not have been one of the in crowd, more a square peg in a round hole, but when he bumps into them they generally aren't doing so well.
Good on you for sharing its not always easy
i like your story and i like audree's dad. :-) it's not always a good feeling when you have to fight with someone. although i got into fights when i was young for defending some of my friends from their bullies, i also felt guilty afterwards. to this day, whenever i remember the sound of my fist hitting the chest of another kid, i cringe and the guilt just overwhelms me i know i'm destined for hell. good story, f, well done.
September 15th, 2014
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Good on you for sharing its not always easy