I hate seeing people being bullied. I hate how things change in an instant when you switch schools or when you move to a different state. I hate it, also, when things do not change at all. Bullies may follow you to your next grade or the bullies stay behind, but you meet other ones that will tease you for the same thing. There is nothing you can do really when you are in the situation of being bullied. Your reactions just freeze you right in the spot, especially when your bullies threaten you. Trust me, I know this…
It started in 2nd grade, Mary Burns Michael in Ms. Muller’s class. I loved making new friends and I was fooled and blinded by me wanting friends. I was excited about school. I woke up every morning with my backpack on my back ready to learn, play and have some fun. All my life I have been used by people because of who I am and I guess that is what happened. I let them get to me, but at the same time I kept lying to myself.
“Edna? What kind of name is that? That name belongs to my grandma,” or they would say “hey grandma, need a cane?” or even “Edna Mode” from the Incredibles. I tolerated it. I thought they were my friends, so I figured it was okay. I never believed in the quote “stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” That was just a load of dirty laundry to me. I could not believe that everywhere I went those insults sticked to me like gum on the bottom of a shoe. It seemed to me that it would never end.
Sadly, I was right. Actually, the insults never ended; it just wasn’t on the daily like it was in elementary and middle school. High School is a whole different story. I know who my friends are and who aren’t. I know when they are making fun of me and when they are just joking around not meaning it. No one has called me grandma in 4 years, but most of my good friends, the ones that I’ve known for more than 2 years call me Edna mode. It doesn’t pain me when I hear that, it just rubs off of me.
Another time I was bullied because of how my ears would stick out. My ears are kind of abnormal from others. I was teased left and right. My other nickname for my elementary school year was Dumbo. I hated that name, even though I loved that movie. I cried when I was alone in the restroom. I could not go through the hallway by myself for 2 minutes before someone would yell out for “DUMBO!” That name slowly wore off as years passed.
I never bullied anyone in my life. I hated the way they treated me. I never had the guts to stand up for myself because I was so scared. When I realized that their words were lies and whatever they said about me was not true, their insults did not hurt me. I got the courage to help other children who were bullied too. I stood up for them and I was more like a therapist to them. I always try to make people feel like they are worth more than what other people treat them.
Right now, I’m trying my hardest to have all the patience in the world to help my eight year old cousin. He’s been bullied and beaten. This particular kid in his class named Josh, always kicks him and punches him. As I talk to him, I can feel the pain in his voice. His tears stream down his face, and I start tearing up. He tells me no one likes him, that no one tells him his cool, and loving. It hurts me even more when he told me he doesn’t think I love him. My heart shattered. I was stressing with my homework and I had no idea what I was doing, he smacked me on the side of my head and I got mad. I guess the expression on my face made him feel like all he did right was make mistakes. I recently found out he almost tried to commit suicide… a 3rd grader… 8 years old…
What does that tell you about bullying?
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