Over the past few months, I’ve heard a lot of anti bully talk and slogans. I don’t like bullies any more than the next person, but if it were not for the bullies in my past, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I might be timider or a total jerk. Only God knows what I would have become if I hadn’t of stood up for myself in high school after years of torment.
Everyone thinks that because I went to private school, I had it made and didn’t have to contend with such things as bullies, drugs, and threats. Nothing could be further from the truth. When I finished high school, I was five feet tall. I was a small lad that weighed a total of 100 lbs. soaking wet. At my school, we had around 30 kids in each grade. It was a small school that I loved. However, when I was a sophomore, the principal started letting kids that had been kicked out of public school, attend our school. So, all the ingrates whose families could afford private school, came to our school. That’s when things started to change.
We had this one tall heavy set fella at our school that took joy out of picking little shites like me up and throwing us across a room. He also enjoyed stuffing us into lockers and pulling our boxers up to our heads. One day after lunch, I caught him strangling a friend for money. I yelled for him to stop. A few seconds later, a teacher came around the corner and he stopped. He pointed at me, and said, “I’m going to get you, Davis, after school”.
Frankly, I was terrified. I managed to skip by him, when my ride pulled up. What he said nagged at me all weekend. I was boxing with my father that Sunday and almost knocked him off of a three story deck. I was so nervous Monday morning that I begged my mother to let me stay home. I ended up going to school that morning, regardless of the consequences.
Somehow, I managed to sneak by him all day. The clan of nerds that I was the leader of brought lunch to my hideout in the janitors closet. The rest of the day dragged on. One teacher asked me what was wrong, because I was shaking so bad that she could barely read my writing. I wanted to tell her, but I didn’t.
After the final bell rang, I decided to take the back exit that no one ever used to access the area where parents picked up their kids. As I furiously ran around the corner towards the exit, a foot tripped me, and I went sliding into the lockers. Before I could turn around, big boy and his cronies were picking me up like a feather. I yelled for help, but to no avail. My eyes darted back and forth searching for anyone to help, but only the girlfriends were there to watch me get beat senseless.
He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and started picking me up. It wasn’t that I was necessarily scared of him, it had more to do with the threat and the time that had passed thinking about it. As he lifted me off the ground, I grew a spine and kicked his knee in as hard as I could. I had legs of steel back then and still do. We both fell to the frigid January ground and he started screaming. The next thing I knew a minute had passed and I was still beating him senseless. The principle came and after a time of pacing back and forth in the principles office, I explained what happened. With a tearful, girly, cry, he said that he was just going to scare me.
We became somewhat friends. The last thing I heard about him was that he was in jail for attempted theft of an ATM. I saw him about five years ago. He was still going on about me busting his kneecap. That may have been the first time I had to stand up for myself outside of the home, but definitely not the last. Every time a new student would enter our school with an attitude, they’d test the dominate little shite, me. But, thanks to big boy, they’d be fully warned ahead of time.
Ever since I got into that fight in 2007, I’ve not had to be in another. I don’t like to fight. I’ll do just about anything to avoid it, but sometimes it is a necessity. I realise that school is a lot different these days, but the basic rules still apply. Take down the biggest one and the rest will flee. Mind you, I’m not encouraging physical altercations, but you’ve got to stand up for yourself and others at some point.
P.S.: I’ll be back Christmas Day with an inspirational post, I hope.
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Unfortunately not all parents are like me. I raised 2 boys on my own and instill many values inthem, whether they accepted them at that time, or not. Matt was in the 5th grade and came home, a victim of a bully. Matt was a tad overweight and could carry his own, should he choose to. Violence was not a part of our home, he seldom defended himself. A gentle soul. Well, on this particular day, I, the mother, had had enough. I looked up the last name of this 5th grade bully, had Matt in the car with me and off we drove up the road to the home of the bully. These parents owned substantial land and vineyards. No deterrent for me. Once we knocke, a very angry man answered the door. I explained we were here to put an end to the differences with these two boys. The father yelled loud for the boy. Once this boy appeared, my mothers feathers were no longer ruffled. This boy was a foot shorted than Matt, had thick round glasses as well. Cute as a bug. My heart melted instantly as I saw a pecking order problem here. Needless to say I finished with the boys shaking hands and thanked both the father ans son for their time. In the car later I asked Matt if he understood why that boy was as angry as he is. I really did not expect him to know as I did. He told me, the boy has a mad father that scares him. Surprised me. Matt understood as much as I, the moment the door opened! I have always told me kids, when someone treated them poorly to try to understand the plight of the bully, and to know that it was not my son(s) that were different, or singled out for that, as much as it was the need of the bully to act out. We must strive to understand the plight and not internalize the pain. No, it is not fair to be picked on by a bully, but once the bully is understood, most times the acting out ceases. Matt and his shorter ex-bully friend became fast friends after that. Girls are picked on as well. But that is another story. Episodes like these make us better people. Is this not what life is all about? Treat others as we would treat ourselves. I have to say both my sons are kind and I am extremely proud of this. You are what makes your moms heart pound faster. Such a good man.
You are absolutely right, Julie. I fear for the kids today. They have to deal with knives and guns. There were drugs in the school, but no weapons. Those were the days. I wouldn’t want to relive them though. They were some hellish times, but there were some good days too.
As it turned out, his father left when he was still a baby. He had an older brother that was a total jerk. We never became friends, but he watched out for me after that. I was the smallest kid in the school, but after that, I didn’t take crap from anyone.
Violence is never the answer, and as I said, I’ll do just about anything to avoid it. My grandfather used to say that if you ever brandish a knife or gun, you best be willing to use it. That’s why I’ve never carried a gun!
I remember when I was still a teenager, my father disappeared for a week. I was having an argument with God about the whole situation. I asked what else can you do to me. Big mistake! As I was walking from work, I stepped into a hole, sprang my ankle, and managed to scrape my head up pretty good. Things can always be worse.
Thanks for commenting, Julie. You remind me of my Aunt. She did the same thing when my cousin was bullied.