The neighborhood bully, or how to be YOU
(Don't sell out - don't sell your soul to fit in....)
When I look back on my life there are many memories, that seem to stand out. Some are full of joy – but not many.
It’s not that I did not have a good childhood – but there were things that made my childhood at the time seem unbearable - made me want to just crawl inside a hole and die. Mainly, that ends up being a lot of what ‘colours’ those memories. That is how I was accepted (or in this case NOT) by my school mates.
I attended catholic school until the age of 12. In a word it was torture. I was literally tortured by the kids. Why? Cause I was weird, different, ‘not of them’. I was socially inept, awkward – painfully shy. I was poor. I simply did not fit in. And boy-o-boy did they never let me forget how they loathed me. I was intelligent, articulate, I was ‘holy’ in other words I spent a lot of time contemplating God/Mary/The Saints. I was curious, I was constantly reading. I seemed to be wired differently (I still am).
Remember the scene in 'A Christmas story' where Ralphie went nuts on the bully? Well there were 3 similar incidents in my life.
The first was with a kid who lived in the same ‘row houses’ as we did – I can’t recall his name, I think it was David. ‘David’ would pick on all the younger kids as we walked home from school. He would taunt us and tease us. When summer rolled around he would remind us he had a pool in his backyard. After about a year of this crap, one day I decided to fight back. Literally. I did not get in trouble for this – even though I am pretty sure I hit him with something – perhaps my fist. Perhaps my mom was aware of his ‘brattiness’. After that I got invited to go swimming at his house - I declined the invitation.
The second ‘incident’ involved defending my mom. I think I was about 10 or 11 years old at this point. There was a kid who lived a couple streets over from us. I am pretty sure his name was Robert. He was not a bully per se – but he did ‘interfere’ a lot with the kids nearby. Anyhow one day, as my mom walked home from the store loaded down with groceries, Robert rode by on his ‘spider’ bike and knocked all of the bags out of my mother’s arms. I watched the whole thing transpire and I saw red. Like a shot I got on my own bike and chased this kid down. I punched him square in the face and I gave him a bloody nose. Well that night my mom got a call form his mom and the next day, I had to go and apologize to Robert. I remember his mom telling me he had just lost his dad and that’s why he was acting the way he did. I told her I didn’t care why – that he was wrong anyway (yeah go me on the compassion front) but that I’d apologize to him although I would not mean it. She gave me a very odd look (yeah I’ll bet). Hey Robert, if you are out there I am still glad I gave you a bloody nose, you jerk.
The last incident (and perhaps my siblings can fill in more as they remember them) was about as close to the ‘Ralphie’ scene as it gets. It was with my classmates. It involved me and a crush I had on a boy. I was in 6th grade so it was my last year at Catholic school. I had been teased, taunted and tortured unmercifully by the kids I went to school with. One memorable incident that took place earlier that year was over my best (my only) friend’s funeral. I lost my dearest friend, Donna to an inoperable brain tumor – I watched with growing horror as the enlarging ‘lump’ disfigured her face and moved silently into her brain, at first, making her blind then slowly killing her. She died early in the spring. At her funeral I was the only kid crying – how I know this is because I was made fun of for crying during and after the funeral – in fact – her funeral was held during the day at school/church and I ran out of there right afterwards and went straight home, skipping the rest of the school day, because I simply could not bear the cruelty on top of the loss.
Toward the end of spring, the ‘terror’ grew to a crescendo – I was put on ‘mock’ trial for not being a good enough friend to the 2 most popular girls in the school. These same girls found out I had a crush on one of the boy in our class. They began spreading the 'rumour' - to the entire school (or as some of us can identify it certainly felt that way to me) - the final straw came then I found out they were passing noted in class about this - one went directly to this boy. After school I waited for the girl that I knew was the main culprit. I didn't say a word, the minute I saw her, I jumped on her and began beating her up...I snapped - I had to be pulled off of her. It's not the reason why I did not go back to that school - but let's just say thank God I didn't go back to that school.
The following year I ended up in a public school where I made some of the best friends I was to ever have in my life. Unfortunately, the following year we moved form Pennsylvania to Ohio. I went to Jr. High and High School in Parma and continued ot make decent friends. I had somehow learned to not let what other people though get the better of me - I simply didn't care anymore and I knew there were kids out there 'like me' - kids who were not afraid to be smart, intelligent, geeky, what-have-you.
I still knew on some levels I'd never be one of the 'beautiful' people - I learned to despise those kids who seemed to have it all - I still despise them - so sue me - is it judgmental? Sure you bet....but I could certainly understand the anguish that those kids from Columbine felt and other kids who have 'snapped' - cause it's an awful feeling...
Its' even worse watching your child go through something similar and feeling helpless to do anything to help them. I know my daughter struggled a lot. I felt horrible about how she was treated. I know my son struggled at times too - but what do you tell them - 'Those kids are assholes, pay them no mind' - when you know that somewhere deep down your child longs to just 'fit in' and not feel like a circus freak.
I am bringing this up for several reasons, recent events have triggered some of my past memories - ones I'd rather not remember - but delving through them sometimes gives me the insight I need to help someone I love....not to mention bringing a sense of closure and the realisation that (as my friend Carolyn once put it) 'If they don't like you,who cares, they don't know what they're missing'.
When I look back on my life there are many memories, that seem to stand out. Some are full of joy – but not many.
It’s not that I did not have a good childhood – but there were things that made my childhood at the time seem unbearable - made me want to just crawl inside a hole and die. Mainly, that ends up being a lot of what ‘colours’ those memories. That is how I was accepted (or in this case NOT) by my school mates.
I attended catholic school until the age of 12. In a word it was torture. I was literally tortured by the kids. Why? Cause I was weird, different, ‘not of them’. I was socially inept, awkward – painfully shy. I was poor. I simply did not fit in. And boy-o-boy did they never let me forget how they loathed me. I was intelligent, articulate, I was ‘holy’ in other words I spent a lot of time contemplating God/Mary/The Saints. I was curious, I was constantly reading. I seemed to be wired differently (I still am).
Remember the scene in 'A Christmas story' where Ralphie went nuts on the bully? Well there were 3 similar incidents in my life.
The first was with a kid who lived in the same ‘row houses’ as we did – I can’t recall his name, I think it was David. ‘David’ would pick on all the younger kids as we walked home from school. He would taunt us and tease us. When summer rolled around he would remind us he had a pool in his backyard. After about a year of this crap, one day I decided to fight back. Literally. I did not get in trouble for this – even though I am pretty sure I hit him with something – perhaps my fist. Perhaps my mom was aware of his ‘brattiness’. After that I got invited to go swimming at his house - I declined the invitation.
The second ‘incident’ involved defending my mom. I think I was about 10 or 11 years old at this point. There was a kid who lived a couple streets over from us. I am pretty sure his name was Robert. He was not a bully per se – but he did ‘interfere’ a lot with the kids nearby. Anyhow one day, as my mom walked home from the store loaded down with groceries, Robert rode by on his ‘spider’ bike and knocked all of the bags out of my mother’s arms. I watched the whole thing transpire and I saw red. Like a shot I got on my own bike and chased this kid down. I punched him square in the face and I gave him a bloody nose. Well that night my mom got a call form his mom and the next day, I had to go and apologize to Robert. I remember his mom telling me he had just lost his dad and that’s why he was acting the way he did. I told her I didn’t care why – that he was wrong anyway (yeah go me on the compassion front) but that I’d apologize to him although I would not mean it. She gave me a very odd look (yeah I’ll bet). Hey Robert, if you are out there I am still glad I gave you a bloody nose, you jerk.
The last incident (and perhaps my siblings can fill in more as they remember them) was about as close to the ‘Ralphie’ scene as it gets. It was with my classmates. It involved me and a crush I had on a boy. I was in 6th grade so it was my last year at Catholic school. I had been teased, taunted and tortured unmercifully by the kids I went to school with. One memorable incident that took place earlier that year was over my best (my only) friend’s funeral. I lost my dearest friend, Donna to an inoperable brain tumor – I watched with growing horror as the enlarging ‘lump’ disfigured her face and moved silently into her brain, at first, making her blind then slowly killing her. She died early in the spring. At her funeral I was the only kid crying – how I know this is because I was made fun of for crying during and after the funeral – in fact – her funeral was held during the day at school/church and I ran out of there right afterwards and went straight home, skipping the rest of the school day, because I simply could not bear the cruelty on top of the loss.
Toward the end of spring, the ‘terror’ grew to a crescendo – I was put on ‘mock’ trial for not being a good enough friend to the 2 most popular girls in the school. These same girls found out I had a crush on one of the boy in our class. They began spreading the 'rumour' - to the entire school (or as some of us can identify it certainly felt that way to me) - the final straw came then I found out they were passing noted in class about this - one went directly to this boy. After school I waited for the girl that I knew was the main culprit. I didn't say a word, the minute I saw her, I jumped on her and began beating her up...I snapped - I had to be pulled off of her. It's not the reason why I did not go back to that school - but let's just say thank God I didn't go back to that school.
The following year I ended up in a public school where I made some of the best friends I was to ever have in my life. Unfortunately, the following year we moved form Pennsylvania to Ohio. I went to Jr. High and High School in Parma and continued ot make decent friends. I had somehow learned to not let what other people though get the better of me - I simply didn't care anymore and I knew there were kids out there 'like me' - kids who were not afraid to be smart, intelligent, geeky, what-have-you.
I still knew on some levels I'd never be one of the 'beautiful' people - I learned to despise those kids who seemed to have it all - I still despise them - so sue me - is it judgmental? Sure you bet....but I could certainly understand the anguish that those kids from Columbine felt and other kids who have 'snapped' - cause it's an awful feeling...
Its' even worse watching your child go through something similar and feeling helpless to do anything to help them. I know my daughter struggled a lot. I felt horrible about how she was treated. I know my son struggled at times too - but what do you tell them - 'Those kids are assholes, pay them no mind' - when you know that somewhere deep down your child longs to just 'fit in' and not feel like a circus freak.
I am bringing this up for several reasons, recent events have triggered some of my past memories - ones I'd rather not remember - but delving through them sometimes gives me the insight I need to help someone I love....not to mention bringing a sense of closure and the realisation that (as my friend Carolyn once put it) 'If they don't like you,who cares, they don't know what they're missing'.
Labels: Bullies, Fitting In, Life, Observations, School
posted by Colette at 8:21 PM
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