Don’t Be A Bully…

Hello dear friends! As you can see, I am writing after ages today. Ever since I saw the video of Keaton Jones crying, I cannot get the kid out of my head.  His most sincere question “Why do they bully? What’s the point of it?” is stuck in my head and is going on in a repeat mode since then.

This brings back so many memories from my school time. None of those memories are cherished, in fact they were rather traumatizing and I try to push them back in a far corner of my mind palace.

Bullying is possibly one of the worst things that a child has to go through in school. I know that because I have gone through it… I hardly spoke with anyone, outside home. when I was around 6 years of age, maybe because it was a new school and I was not confident of my English or maybe I had just lost my father and it was the after effect of the trauma or may be just that I was a loner. But I was made fun of repeatedly because of the following;

• My English was bad.
• I was fat
• My hair was oily and my hairstyle was not cool enough.
• I used to get nervous when teachers asked me a question and end up crying

These are the reasons I can remember till now, I am not sure if there were others too. Also this was not restricted to my class mates. The older girls in my bus route would also constantly pick on me, remove me forcibly from my seat and pull my hair so that they could see me cry. I am not sure where is the fun in tormenting a six year old kid till she is so heartbroken and fearful that she ends up crying?

Every parent’s teacher meeting, my Mother would have to hear complaints from teachers that I don’t answer in class or do not participate in any team games etc. I remember throwing up purposefully right before school time and pretending to be sick so that I don’t have to go to school and face these monsters.

My entire primary school life was a nightmare for me.

This went on until one day I lost all patience and hit a girl (who had pulled my hair) with my plastic water bottle and tore her shirt. I was 9 years old then. I remember the day so vividly after all these years. It was after school and we were all waiting in line for our school bus to arrive. This other kid, let’s call her Surabhi; approached me. This Surabhi pulls my hair real hard and asks me to get out of line and go stand at the end, because I was useless and she wanted my place. Not sure why I lost my patience that day, but I was so done with her nonsense that I lifted my bottle and bashed it against her head. Then I caught hold of her shirt near her shoulder and just ripped it off. She cried so loudly that the teachers standing nearby came to her rescue and pulled me out of line to take me to the Principal’s office.  Even though I was in a giant bowl of soup that day with teachers, and mum was called in to complain, but it felt good to give it back together with interest.

Since that day, even though I was still considered weird and odd, I was never bullied, because I used to return the favour in kinds.

I am not saying that every bully should be beaten black and blue, or that the victim should end up being violent. What I am trying to say here is one has to stand up for herself/himself to stop this act.  Also as a personal rule, we should offer help to people (irrespective of their age, gender and beliefs) if we see them getting bullied.

 Image courtesy – www.ukiahpolice.com