Our son was bullied in La Salle Zobel School. One day, when he was in Grade 3, I made him stay at home because he was feverish. When I took off his shirt to give him a sponge bath, I was horrified to see big black bruises all over his torso. He refused to tell me or my husband what happened or who did it to him, so we went to the principal and complained. The perpetrators were “punished” with a C grade in conduct.
Several more incidents like these happened over the years. Each time, our son would hide it from us, afraid of what we, his parents, would do, and of the teasing that would follow from his classmates. He was smaller than his classmates, a quiet intelligent boy, preferring to play games on his computer rather than join the more athletic, physical games like other children his age.
It was thus a great relief for us when he finally defended himself from another bully on the last day of class just before a holiday. Despite several warnings to stop harassing him, the boy pushed him against the wall and was about to hit him, so our son hit him first. Just once, and the boy fell and cried. The teacher witnessed what had happened. Nevertheless, our son got a C in conduct (school rules say no fighting), while the other boy was put on probation. The boy’s last name: Elorde. Go figure.
Our family was elated! We celebrated our son’s victory. Finally, our son could stand up for himself. Never mind the C. Now, that he is almost six foot tall, I doubt if anyone would try to bully him.
Looking back, I’ve had my own fill of bullying. One occasion that stands out clearly was in first year high school. One day after lunch break, I was embarrassed to find my chair covered with eggs. Why, there must have been at least two dozen of them. Crying, I gave them to my teacher. To this day, I do not know who was behind this or why this was done to me, although I half suspect it was because I had refused to cheat during exams. But I carried the hurt for a very long time.
Later in life, I realized that I had allowed my ex-in laws to bully me. It became so bad that I, an otherwise accomplished business executive respected by my peers, would stutter in their presence. I was made to feel inferior and unwanted, below their social class. My sisters-in-law would go together shopping and brag about their exploits or finds, and I would never be invited. At clan parties, they would all sit together, excluding me, forcing me to find my place with other “out-laws.” So many instances I suffered, too painful to write down. What made it worse was not having my then husband’s support and understanding, and apparently, love. But that’s a limbo I was able to escape, now long behind me.
And just like my son, I never told anyone what painful times I was going through then. Was it fear that no one would believe me, or a feeling of shame that I actually deserved the treatment? Was I so lacking in self-esteem that I actually accepted the notion that I was not good enough for them? I don’t really know, except that I am so blessed that Mike, my knight in shining armor, came into my life, rescued me from this morass, reminded me of my self-worth, and restored my self-confidence. Secure in his love for me, I was happy.
Who becomes a bully? And who a victim? Is it something we are pre-disposed to? Is it the self-image we develop from childhood? Do we unknowingly accept what angry people say about us, instead of letting hurtful words slide off our backs like water to a duck? I think it really is a combination of the many experiences we’ve had from childhood to adulthood. In my case, I think it was losing my dad when I was but ten, feeling lost and realizing that I had no one to defend me.
If you’ve ever been a victim of bullying, you need to shake off your feeling of hopelessness. Remember that you are a child of God, precious to Him. You are not the problem. Document the bullying. Talk about it with other people. Expose the bully.
The funny yet sad thing is, I believe that all the bullies I’ve met are actually quite unhappy and insecure themselves. They display aggressive, cruel behavior towards people they think are vulnerable, to feel a sense of power and to cover up for their own insecurities or worries. Just like that boy who tried to hit my son. Turns out he was having problems at home, and needed an outlet for it. Unfortunately for him, he picked on my son that day.
So next time you’re faced with a bully, think, what monstrous problems must beset them that they have to resort to bullying. And instead of letting it affect you, pity them and let the water slide off your back.