You Bet I'm Empowered to Take On a Bully

When I was in second grade, I dreaded the moment I left to catch the school bus until the moment I walked inside my front door.  Although my experience with bullies began before this age and hasn’t ended, this was a notable year.  I was tormented by mostly older bullies on the way to the bus stop, while waiting at the bus stop and on the way home.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t take sanctuary during school hours either.  My teacher that year also was a bully.  Every day, there were no less than three classmates on average who laid their heads down crying, because of this angry woman’s verbal abuse.  Even as a child, I wondered how she kept her job, given the numerous complaints from parents. 

The life of a tiger cub already meant that I was called out for every flaw.  I was too fat, not brilliant and inadequate in every way.   Once I stepped outside of my front door, it became much worse.  It seemed like bullies were trying to kill or at least physically hurt me constantly.  They would follow or chase me home, while using their fingers to slant their eyes, and everything hurtful and ridiculous that could be said to someone was said to me including the following:  

·         Your family should go back to China!

·         Chinese people are so ugly.

·         You are so ugly!

·         You’re stupid.

·         I hate Chinese people.

·         Your interracial parents are an abomination.

·         Your squinty eyes can’t see me.

·         My mom told me not to take food from your family, because it must be poisonous.

·         It disgusts me that a white man would marry your mother. 

My bullies came from every walk of life, ethnicity and age.  For them, I was simply “different,” and that was their reason for my torment.  For a long time, I actually believed that I deserved the ridicule.  If adults also treat me like I’m worthless, it must be so.  They know better, because I’m just a child.     

By the time I made it to sixth grade, I became quite skilled at defending myself physically and verbally.  Before I could do either, though, I learned how to run like Forrest Gump. 

Today, the children who are bullied probably have it worse than I did as a latchkey kid.  Unlike me, the bullying may not stop temporarily simply because they run inside, lock the door and hide in a closet.  Living in a virtual everything world doesn’t give them that luxury. 

 

 

I share a snippet of my bulling experience not for empathy or sympathy or because it’s National Bullying Prevention Month.  By the way, I love that there’s awareness around the issue.  I share it because my usual, “don’t be a candy ass,” take on life can’t be the go-to, when there’s another story in the news about someone losing their bullied child to suicide. 

The news about 12 year-old Rebecca Sedwick's three-year ordeal and suicide at a concrete plant is heart-breaking.  Her tormenters are only 12 and 14.  Sedwick’s parents did what they could, which included pulling her out of school, but the bullying didn’t stop online. 

I wish I could’ve pulled children like Rebecca Sedwick aside and tell them to hang on and to not let the bullies get the last laugh, because they certainly aren’t worth it.  As my husband says, “Even if the movie stinks, I have to know how it ends.”  

If the parents and teachers can’t or won’t help, as Sedwick’s parents tried to do, there is still hope. 

So, how did I get through this and emerge as a confident and resilient adult?  It wasn’t because I was a tough bitch since birth.  It isn’t because I have a thicker layer of skin than most.  It certainly isn’t because an adult stepped in to help.  I cried out for it so many times.  No one came to my rescue.  It was because I stuck in there, knowing that elementary, middle and high school weren’t eternal sentences.  I refused to allow the bullies to get the best of me.  If anything, I used the experience to help me reach my maximum potential. 

At the height of my bullying, I did not allow the frustration and anger to serve as my roadblocks.  Why would I want to support their opinions that I was worthless and stupid?   

I knew that one day, I would be in the position to take control of my life, and I used these emotions to fuel my determination to show the lowlifes what I was made of.  I knew that I could earn the gratification to have them eat their words, and this is what I want to tell these children to live for.  Live to see the life you want to lead.  Whether happiness for you means family, security or becoming the next great whatever, use the anger and frustration to go after it. 

Better yet…  Move so far ahead from this time in your life that by adulthood, you don’t even feel angry anymore and can hardly remember the faces of your bullies.  Move so far ahead that recalling a bullying experience for a blog posting one day will require digging far into your memory bank. 

This is not intended to sound simple, but I’m so grateful for my inner voice of encouragement that gave me the momentum to keep moving forward.  For the children who can’t find it, I’d be happy to serve as that voice and stand between them and bullies.