A calendar gets sprinkled with so many special days, weeks and months, it鈥檚 hard to keep track, but in digging around for information on bullying, I discovered this is, among other things, Bullying Awareness Week.
So what looks like good timing is merely serendipity.
Declaring a special week isn鈥檛 going to erase the problem, but if it eases or prevents some of the torment experienced by bullying victims, it鈥檚 worth it.
A common reaction is that bullying is part of growing up, that children need to learn to deal with adversity and challenges. That鈥檚 true to a certain extent 鈥� there seems to be a growing tendency to bubblewrap kids against all bumps, scrapes, infections, sadness and slights. Life involves humans colliding with each other in many different ways, and we need to develop the skills to deal with those collisions.
Most of us experienced at least some degree of bullying in our formative years, as a perpetrator or a victim or both. I was guilty of thoughtless cruelties, teasing gone awry and insensitive jokes, but as a skinny kid with certain eccentricities, I was more often the target than the perpetrator.
(It didn鈥檛 help that my mouth had a tendency to keep going after my brain had stopped.)
There were times when I had to plot my way home from school to avoid getting shoved around. I was taunted with a certain nickname that caused me grief, until the day I adopted it as my own and realized no one could hurt me with it any more.
As the years passed, former bullies become friends, or at least, friendly acquaintances. By the time I was in high school, bullying was not an issue.
Except for one person. He was large and muscular, able to send me crashing into the lockers with a flick of his wrist, as he proved on frequent occasions. I hated to see him coming.
Taking my 鈥渟hortcut鈥� to school one day, I saw a salamander wriggling through the mud. I picked it up to take a closer look, but the warning bell reminded me I鈥檇 better hurry. I slipped the salamander into my shirt pocket for later examination. (See previous reference to 鈥渃ertain eccentricities.鈥�) I slipped through a back door that was closer to my locker than the main entrance and found myself headed toward my oversized tormentor with no one else in that particular hallway.
Just as he approached, I felt something move and realized the salamander was sticking its head out of my shirt pocket.
I had a feeling of impending disaster, such as a big fist reaching out and squashing the hapless unfortunate amphibian, leaving me to wear the results for the rest of the day.
But that鈥檚 not what happened. Big Guy spied the salamander all right, but his reaction surprised me. His eyes widened, he backed against the wall and screamed in a high voice: 鈥淕et that thing away from me!鈥�
Revenge was my first thought. I imagined pursuing him shrieking down the hall, exposing him as a coward, ruining his reputation forever.
My second impulse was uncharacteristically wise for me.
鈥淲hy don鈥檛 I just take it outside and let it go?鈥� I said.
鈥淵eah, please, thanks,鈥� he stammered.
The salamander was returned to a more appropriate environment, and I told no one about the incident. Big Guy never bothered me again; in fact, he became quite friendly.
So the moral to my bullying story is walk softly and carry a salamander.
But that鈥檚 not much use these days. Bullying has evolved into something more frightening.
My parents generally left me to fight my own battles, and I tried to teach my kids to walk away from a fight. That was before technology made possible the destruction of a kid鈥檚 reputation and self-esteem. It鈥檚 bad enough to be surrounded by six kids calling you names, but it鈥檚 survivable.
But if 600 people attack you through social media 鈥� and that can happen almost instantly 鈥� you could easily feel the whole world was against you.
Children who experience unconditional love, respect and discipline at home can usually weather the storms, but many don鈥檛 have that kind of stability and support. They are vulnerable, and the pack always attacks vulnerability. We have seen that manifested in Victoria and elsewhere, with tragic results.
And for each high-profile case, there are probably many who suffer in lonely silence.
Bringing attention one week a year to bullying won鈥檛 make it go away, but progress often comes in small steps.
