Bully for You: Schoolyard Bullies, Then and Now.
In high school I faced the worst of all possible teenage angst-filled situations: I moved. From Eugene, Oregon to Butler County, Ohio. Quite a culture shock. I made a lot of good friends at my Ohio high school. And I had a lot of fun, maybe too much fun- my parents made me take a year off before I started college to decide if I “really” wanted it (I did).
But in addition to the great friends and great memories, I have some other, less happy memories of high school, too. One time, I was at a party and I found myself surrounded by girls from the senior class, demanding to know why I was “hitting” on their boyfriends. Accepting a cup of beer from the keg with a polite “thank you” didn’t qualify as a flirting, I explained, and I didn’t know who anyone’s boyfriends were, anyway. In addition, I wasn’t seeking anyone out. Knowing only the people I arrived with, I wasn’t really talking to anyone but them, unless someone approached me and initiated a conversation.
This didn’t go over too well. The idea that their boyfriends were, in fact, coming on to me (strongly, but I left that out), was not something the girls wanted to hear from the new girl. They continued to harangue and harass me until they got bored. (Though I should point out, one of them came back and apologized. And stated that she agreed it was hardly my fault. We actually ended up friends.) Most of the other girls left off, dazzled by the tall beer pyramid constructed by a group of wrestlers. One of the girls didn’t leave off then, or by the end of the school year. In fact, this girl continued to harass me long after she graduated from high school, mostly by phone.
My transgression, which remained unnamed throughout all of her many calls to my home, in retrospect probably had a lot to do with moving into town and almost immediately snagging the school’s most ungettable boy, aka the love of my high school life.
I deeply loved, in that sweetly special high school love kind of way, my boyfriend, and unwittingly pissed off a number of girls in the process. Because before I arrived on the scene, he wasn’t known for dating much, let alone having a girlfriend. The reason I attribute my she-bully’s actions to him is simple: I had a sneaking suspicion she was one of his fans and years after high school, they ended up together.
I was at a party a few years ago when a friend of the she-bully told me of their ultimate coupledom. I boldly told the bully’s friend that bully-girl had called me incessantly and in fact seemed somewhat obsessed with me, even after she graduated from high school and supposedly moved on with her life. “Yeah,” she mused. “I hear she did that to a lot of girls.”
OK. So my high school bully wasn’t run of the mill. She was a murderous cheerleader mom-in-training and presumably, a wackjob. And in the long run, her future was a dish best served cold and I could care less about who she ended up with, or how, or why.
But back then, moving to a new, small town, where cliques had been formed in kindergarten, was scary enough without becoming the instant target of people I looked to for friendship. Instead of feeling welcomed, I often felt threatened and unhappy during my first year at the new school.
The term “bully” wasn’t used much in high schools then, and certainly wouldn’t have been reason for anyone getting in trouble. If anything, the picked-on kids were told to suck it up and learn from the experience. As if there was anything of value to learn. Or as my mom said, rise above it and just ignore them. Great advice in theory, but hardly helpful during a time when every day felt like it was 23 hours too long.
I don’t know if I would have done anything differently if I were in school today. The only thing I could think of to do back then was to avoid the she-bullies in the hallways and to try to talk it out when I got the threatening phone calls. We live in a different world now. When children feel threatened or harassed at school, there are consequences from suspensions to expulsions to litigious actions. More than 30 states have passed anti-bullying laws to help protect children in school. Cyber-bully laws in particular have been getting a lot of attention in the news, since sadly some online bully’s victims ended their lives rather than face another day of abuse.
I want to tell my nieces and nephews everything that happened to me when I was young. I want them to learn from my experience, and most of all, I want them to fight back. Not in the parking lot after school, as so many disagreements were handled in our small town, but by talking to a counselor or to a trusted teacher or administrator- or to me.
What I don’t want them to do is what I did: nothing. I’m braver today than I was back then. But when you’re young, and unsure of yourself, and you face mini-tragedies like switching schools, anything on top of it just feels compounded, making you feel like a loser. I can’t turn back the clock and take a stand against my high school bullies. But I can tell the little ones what happened, and beg them to talk to someone, anyone, if they feel threatened or harassed at school. And maybe, just maybe, helping them will help turn all of my high school memories into good ones. At least I hope so.
But in addition to the great friends and great memories, I have some other, less happy memories of high school, too. One time, I was at a party and I found myself surrounded by girls from the senior class, demanding to know why I was “hitting” on their boyfriends. Accepting a cup of beer from the keg with a polite “thank you” didn’t qualify as a flirting, I explained, and I didn’t know who anyone’s boyfriends were, anyway. In addition, I wasn’t seeking anyone out. Knowing only the people I arrived with, I wasn’t really talking to anyone but them, unless someone approached me and initiated a conversation.
This didn’t go over too well. The idea that their boyfriends were, in fact, coming on to me (strongly, but I left that out), was not something the girls wanted to hear from the new girl. They continued to harangue and harass me until they got bored. (Though I should point out, one of them came back and apologized. And stated that she agreed it was hardly my fault. We actually ended up friends.) Most of the other girls left off, dazzled by the tall beer pyramid constructed by a group of wrestlers. One of the girls didn’t leave off then, or by the end of the school year. In fact, this girl continued to harass me long after she graduated from high school, mostly by phone.
My transgression, which remained unnamed throughout all of her many calls to my home, in retrospect probably had a lot to do with moving into town and almost immediately snagging the school’s most ungettable boy, aka the love of my high school life.
I deeply loved, in that sweetly special high school love kind of way, my boyfriend, and unwittingly pissed off a number of girls in the process. Because before I arrived on the scene, he wasn’t known for dating much, let alone having a girlfriend. The reason I attribute my she-bully’s actions to him is simple: I had a sneaking suspicion she was one of his fans and years after high school, they ended up together.
I was at a party a few years ago when a friend of the she-bully told me of their ultimate coupledom. I boldly told the bully’s friend that bully-girl had called me incessantly and in fact seemed somewhat obsessed with me, even after she graduated from high school and supposedly moved on with her life. “Yeah,” she mused. “I hear she did that to a lot of girls.”
OK. So my high school bully wasn’t run of the mill. She was a murderous cheerleader mom-in-training and presumably, a wackjob. And in the long run, her future was a dish best served cold and I could care less about who she ended up with, or how, or why.
But back then, moving to a new, small town, where cliques had been formed in kindergarten, was scary enough without becoming the instant target of people I looked to for friendship. Instead of feeling welcomed, I often felt threatened and unhappy during my first year at the new school.
The term “bully” wasn’t used much in high schools then, and certainly wouldn’t have been reason for anyone getting in trouble. If anything, the picked-on kids were told to suck it up and learn from the experience. As if there was anything of value to learn. Or as my mom said, rise above it and just ignore them. Great advice in theory, but hardly helpful during a time when every day felt like it was 23 hours too long.
I don’t know if I would have done anything differently if I were in school today. The only thing I could think of to do back then was to avoid the she-bullies in the hallways and to try to talk it out when I got the threatening phone calls. We live in a different world now. When children feel threatened or harassed at school, there are consequences from suspensions to expulsions to litigious actions. More than 30 states have passed anti-bullying laws to help protect children in school. Cyber-bully laws in particular have been getting a lot of attention in the news, since sadly some online bully’s victims ended their lives rather than face another day of abuse.
I want to tell my nieces and nephews everything that happened to me when I was young. I want them to learn from my experience, and most of all, I want them to fight back. Not in the parking lot after school, as so many disagreements were handled in our small town, but by talking to a counselor or to a trusted teacher or administrator- or to me.
What I don’t want them to do is what I did: nothing. I’m braver today than I was back then. But when you’re young, and unsure of yourself, and you face mini-tragedies like switching schools, anything on top of it just feels compounded, making you feel like a loser. I can’t turn back the clock and take a stand against my high school bullies. But I can tell the little ones what happened, and beg them to talk to someone, anyone, if they feel threatened or harassed at school. And maybe, just maybe, helping them will help turn all of my high school memories into good ones. At least I hope so.
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