Do you remember the phrase "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me"? Whoever came up with that phrase was obviously never bullied. Verbal abuse from your peers is a lot more painful and lasting than a punch in the face. And while neither are desirable, it would appear that there are those who believe that simple "name-calling" is all a part of growing up and that those who are being bullied need to "get tougher skin". I wonder if those same people who seem to believe that a constant and unsolicited barrage of insults are easily ignored, would also say the same thing if their child or they, themselves were the target of peer ridicule? It's hard to say. I can only attest to what I have experienced and to what I have seen.
When I entered the sixth grade, I made a transition from private school to my neighborhood middle school. My new middle school was as foreign to me as the idea of eating croissants on the Seine. The only difference being, the latter of those two activities would have been delightful as opposed to being loud, terrifying, and the cause of several tear-stained sessions with my parents, which always ended with them telling me things would get better and to be strong. It was, in fact, because of thoughts like eating croissants on the Seine or listening to classical music that made me such an outcast in the first place. The near perfect grammar and advanced vocabulary words taught at my old school were frowned upon at my new school. I knew too much. I liked to read, for fun! I was eager to learn. I raised my hand to answer every question and never had to beat anyone to the punch because no one else was even trying. It wasn't "cool" to be so eager. I was making a fool of myself and everyone let me know it. The only person who was worse off than me and a handful of other kids (a boy who didn't wear designer clothes, another who the class suspected was gay, a girl who had glasses, braces and curly hair... I know, cliché, but true) was a girl named Sarah.
You could tell that Sarah was awkward right from the start. She had very short, fair hair that curled in unruly wisps around the crown of her head, where the hair flattened out, giving her a Friar Tuck appearance. Her clothes were faded and too small. They looked like hand-me-downs, which in itself was enough of an offense to be bullied in middle school. She was a little chubby (again, capitol offense in any grade) and she wore a retainer. In addition to that, Sarah had a learning disability. She didn't read at grade level, she spoke out of turn in class, she wasn't aware of when she had food on her shirt or if her nose was running, and she was easily frustrated when it came to class work. The only thing worse than watching other students bully her was witnessing the disgust and indifference with which some teachers treated Sarah. If the class laughed at Sarah, those teachers scolded her for "over-reacting" or sent her down to the counseling center. If she didn't understand an assignment right away or asked for help when we were supposed to be working silently, she received a reprimand, in very clipped tones, to "follow the rules". I would guess that Sarah just wanted a friend, just wanted someone to talk to her and show her kindness, but not one did. I would smile at her across the room or in the hallway, but to be her friend would have put me under more scrutiny than I wanted to take on. I know, it wasn't very nice of me, and what’s more, I feel like a selfish coward having admitted that I did not stand up for her. The next year, I went to a different school and I forgot about Sarah. I made new friends at my new school, people liked me; I was included. But I never forgot how miserable the kids at my old middle school had made me.
Fast forward to the present and I am bombarded with news stories about teen suicide; children who feel so helpless at the hands of their bullies that they see no alternative but to take their own lives. I read that a child as young as eleven years old hung himself after his peers repeatedly told him that he was worthless and that he should just kill himself. A boy is bullied for being an assumed homosexual; a girl is publically humiliated and called a slut and other names via social media, another is bullied for being too fat, one for being too skinny. My heart goes out to these children and their families, but then I get angry. When will it end? Why, as a society, do we allow the strong to prey on the weak and defenseless and excuse the behavior with inane platitudes that make NO ONE feel better? It's too late for me to go back and help Sarah, to "stand for the silent", so to speak. However, it is not too late for us, as a society, to teach new generations of children that bullying is not an option. As it turns out, words do hurt.
Watch the trailer for Bully
Check the Bully Project website and Facebook page to see when the movie is coming to your city and how you can help to raise awareness and stop bullying.