My Bullying Story
by nielskunze on March 9, 2012
I’m a sap. I pretty much cry every time I watch one of those videos where kids quietly and desperately reveal their ongoing pain from bullying. Like this one from Tia.
This one’s really close to home. Many of my closest friends have grown up in the town of Kimberley. I know it can be a rough redneck mentality which often throws its weight around them parts, yet surprisingly many fine people emerge from its crucible. I can only hope that Tia will endure and overcome this testing time.
Why do I always take bullying to heart? Was I bullied in my youth? No, I was always the biggest kid in my grade. So then maybe I was the bully? No, I never picked on anyone. So what is it? Why does my heart hurt? I don’t even have kids of my own…
It’s because videos like Tia’s remind me of my only regret in life. There’s one thing that if I could go back and change it I would. Honestly, there’s just this one thing… everything else I can live with.
There was bullying in my school. Of course there was, mostly in Junior High (grades 7 to 9). There was a girl named Fern. She got bullied a lot. I remember the whispers would go around the classrooms in the afternoon “Fern-hunt after school today. You in?” It would make me feel sick to my stomach whenever I heard it… but I would just hide my discomfort and shrug it off. I never participated in a “Fern-hunt.” They were a gruesome affair where a gang of boys would chase her down, surround her, and basically beat the shit out of her… It still makes me cry! Fuck!
I did nothing. Do you get it? I did nothing! I was the biggest kid in the grade. I could have done something. But then I wouldn’t have been very popular amongst the assholes. When you’re young, for some reason, you think it’s really important to at least be tolerated by the assholes, never mind incurring their childish wrath.
“I’m sorry Fern. I love you. Please forgive me.”
Please don’t make the mistake I made. I thought it wasn’t my problem. It’s thirty-some years later and I know for sure that it’s all of our problem… still… until it stops.
Help!
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