Bullying

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I'm fifteen years old. I like dogs, music, softball, shopping, and guys. Most of my time is spent hanging out with my friends, or playing my guitar. My favorite class is biology. I'm of average height and weight, and I have blue eyes. I'm just like you, I'm just a kid. I am Caille Fille, and this is my story.

I was in the third grade, only eight years old when I was first bullied. I wasn't a new kid, I wasn't abnormal in any way, shape, or form, but for some reason, I became a target. The memories from that year I still carry with me, especially the memories of a girl named Joy. She would ask favors of me -- to have my snack, to copy my homework, or to borrow some quarters for lunch. Dense as I was it took quite some time before I realized that she never intended on paying me back, no matter what she might have promised me. It hurt to know that I was being taken advantage of. When I finally acknowledged the fact that I wasn't some doormat she could walk all over and told her "no", she decided that I just wasn't being "nice" anymore. Amazing how fickle children, especially girls, can be. She stopped talking to me. Even though we had been inseperable for the first half of the year, my presence was not missed. I was replaced by another girl in our class, Kim. They made fun of me. I was called fat, a bookworm, a suck up, a teacher's pet, ugly, and countless other cruel names. They would steal my lunch, and hide my jacket in the classroom so that I would miss my bus looking for it. No one else in my class would talk to me because I had been dubbed "uncool".

I have a vivid image imprinted in my mind of the girls' bathroom in the 3rd grade wing. The view is from the little corner behind one of the stalls where I used to sit and cry, counting the days until the last day of school, when the year would finally be over, and everything would be back to normal again. I couldn't help but to feel glad when Joy announced that she was moving away. I knew that she would never tease me again, but the hurt her words caused are still with me today, even though she is not.

Fourth grade was just as bad, or worse. There were three of them, that year. Three girls who had masqueraded as friends, only to stab me in the back and make me the laughing stock of the grade. I was hated by teachers and parents alike, spent hours straight crying in the bathroom, or at my desk, or into my pillow at night, wondering what I had done to deserve such a life. If I had understood the concept of suicide, it's a possibility that I would have killed myself. I wished more than anything that I hadn't been born. The ringleader's name was Kaitlin. I gave in to her, I let her take advantage of me, step on me, break my spirit, and win. I never got the chance to tell her off or fight back. All she ever did was play dirty tricks on me like lock me out in the rain, or tell the whole grade secrets that I had trusted her with. She turned her mom, the entire class, and the teacher against me with her "innocent" little smile, and there wasn't anything I could do about it. She was popular. She had a following. Who was I to contend with that sort of power? Instead of being myself and standing up for what I believed in, I followed her everywhere, hoping that some day she would like me again. Hah, fat chance. It only got worse.

Kaitlin picked on the little kids. She preyed on the souls of the pushovers. She made them feel weak and vulnerable, and she knew exactly what she was doing. For a 4th grader, she was pretty cruel and calculating. Ripping my heart out and feeding it back to me piece by piece gave her some sort of rush, I suppose, which is why she made my life miserable for a schoolyear. She was a bully in every sense of the word, emotionally and physically. There aren't words to express what I felt when she made fun of me, stuck gum in my hair, or called me fat. I don't need words to tell you how I felt. You know. You've felt it. You've been hurt as badly as I have.

Bullies are sometimes driven by jealousy. Sometimes they pick on the people they hate. Other times they walk all over the unpopular kids just because it makes them feel big, or it makes their friends think their cool (because we all know it's just so cool to hurt someone so much that they're practically suicidal). More often than not, bullies were once bullied themselves, an example of how victims become victimizers. Those bullies are the worst kind, because they're driven by revenge. Think about the school shootings. Think about Columbine. I wonder how many kids out there heard about the shooter's plan for revenge against the popular, the bullies, the pretty people, and thought 'good, they deserved to die anyway'. That thought flitted through my mind for an instant. It was only then that I realized how deep the wounds ran from my fourth grade year, if I could be completely indifferent at the death of another, especially a person so young, with their whole life ahead of them. Besides, those people, the popular, the bullies - they were probably once bullied at one time or another as well. They were victims too, just like the kids who brought the guns to school to get the last word. It all comes down to bullying.

Sometimes adults just don't understand what it's like to wake up, walk into school, and be hated just because you're being yourself, or to be despised and tortured for things that you can't change about your personality. When you're being made fun of, laughed at, and harrassed every single day, when everyone hates you, when you sit all alone and find spitballs in your hair, and you're beat up every single day on your way home, you want to crawl up into a little ball and die. It seems like all you do is cry, and cry, and cry because your greatest wish is that you'd never been born -- at least then you wouldn't be in so much pain. You're in the bathroom, your eyes are bloodshot, your nose is runny, but the hall monitor who's pounding on the door would have to break the lock and drag you out before you'd face those vultures ever again. There were days when I'd have rather been chained to a rock like Prometheus and have a bird peck out my liver than go to school, and that's NOT an exaggeration.

I'm not the only one who feels this way. The author of an article that my managing editor Ms Kimmie e-mailed me agrees with my point of view: http://www.canada.com/news/story.asp?id={8FC29143-2D78-4BFD-9BFA-FAD7FOCC7BC5}
The author also supported his beliefs with fact -

"A 15-year-old Halifax girl was charged last week with extortion and assault, three months after a boy she allegedly bullied killed himself.

Emmet Fralick, 14, shot himself at his home on April 8, leaving a suicide note saying he couldn't take any more bullying.

Vancouver resident Dawn-Marie Wesley, 14, hanged herself in November 2000 after talking on the phone with girls who bullied her."
(Copyright 2002 Canadian Press)

If you don't think bullying is a big issue in schools all across the world, then think again. If you're a kid who's "just playing", poking fun at some kid in your grade, maybe you should think twice before you open your mouth. Though they might be unintended, the results are devastating. I don't think the parents of a child who committed suicide to escape the bullying would be very understanding if you told them you were "just kidding around".

When you're being bullied, it's so hard to do anything about it. Some people are embarrassed that they've been chosen as targets, others are too afraid to do anything about it. Most of the time all you can do is hold your head high, and stay true to yourself, even if the words they say make you feel like garbage. Each and every one of us is a person, all of us deserving of respect. If you love yourself, and respect yourself despite what people might say, they'll never get the better of you. They can spit on your notebooks, call you names, and threaten to beat you up after class, but that doesn't mean you have to stoop to their level and treat others that way. Treat them (sorry to be cliche) as you would want to be treated. From personal experience - that's what takes the fire out from under a bully. A smile and a "hello" works wonders. You could go to a trusted adult or teacher. The only thing that got me through it all was having my dad there to listen to what I had to say before bed at night. He was the shoulder that I cried on, my sole supporter through tough times. Whatever you decide to do, your action should not be one of revenge (though everyone dreams of revenge, I know, I do too). You could try to ignore them. When no one is looking, you could laugh. Laugh at them. Laugh, because they're too weak to be able to deal with their problems by themself. Laugh, because they have to hurt others to feel good about themself. Laugh, because by being polite to them you're showing the world that you're better than them, and stronger than they can ever be.

I know, it's not always that easy. I can only laugh now, and I know that it's because after years of bullying my skin is tough as steel. Life can be hell. For me at times, it still is. Do you honestly think that after only two years, my experience as a public scapegoat ended? I'm still being teased, still in classes with people who try to humiliate me. The difference between now and fouth grade is that now I don't care what they say. So they make fun of me. Big deal. So the class laughs at me. Whatever. So what if I'm so low on the social totem pole that talking to me gets you banned for life from the popular group? At least I know that my friends are real friends, people who like me for me, and not for my fabulous new jeans. I love myself for who I am and for who I want to be. I know that inside, we're not that different at all, and even though there are days that I just want to evicerate Kaitlin and string her entrails on a clothesline, I manage to restrain myself. After all, she's the one with the problems, remember?

There is only one good thing that could ever come from bullying. Don't get me wrong - there is NOTHING, absolutely NOTHING good about emotionally and physcially torturing one of your peers. However, an unintended side-effect can eventually turn out to be a favorable characteristic. You see, bullying becomes a part of who you are. Sometimes I have to think back, and admit that those bullies did a marginal amount of good because of the changes they inspired within me. I've changed so much in character since the 4th grade, and it's mostly because I've needed to become emotionally tougher simply out of the need to survive. I wouldn't be getting along as well as I am now if I hadn't gone through hell in the 4th grade, because now I can simply shrug and shake off cruel comments. It's as my dad used to say - "adversity builds character." It also serves as great inspiration for a writer. I can't tell you how many great stories and poems are written about the problems kids and teens face - I feel bad that I can't feature them all in my column, because there's just not enough space! I think that bullying, when it doesn't destroy a person and make them as vengeful as their bullies were, actually makes them nicer. People who have been bullied are usually more conscious of their behavior towards others - I know I am. They make better, truer friends, and you can always count on them for support. People who have come through bad experiences with bullies tend to get close people less often for fear of being hurt again, but when they finally trust someone, their friendship is priceless. They'll never stab you in the back. I can think of a few examples of people - myself, Ms Kimmie , and a few people I know from school - who have gone from scapegoat to social butterfly in just a few years. The whole bullying experience really brings a person to terms with who they are. If they're strong enough to love themselves despite what other people may say, then they won't be friendless for long.

That doesn't make bullying any less wrong, or any less hurtful. In order to come out a better, stronger person, one must survive the experience first. Unfortunately, many do not. Here is where I would normally insert my feelings on the bullies who are so relentless that they drive a person to suicide, but this column is supposed to be G-rated, and that paragraph would probably get me kicked off the T-Zine staff.

Moving right along -- this is to the bullies themselves.

If you're a bully and you're remorseful for what you've done, it's not too late to apologize. Yeah, I know, most likely the person you tortured for years on end might not be too forthcoming, but that shouldn't stop you from approaching them. Having someone say they're sorry for what they've done might not do much to heal old wounds, but at least it gives the bullied party some closure and satisfaction, and they're much less likely to take their pain out on other people.

Positive that the above paragraph doesn't apply to you? You might be wrong. Examine your actions closely, and watch what you say to others. I don't think any of the people who have ever done anything intentionally cruel to me catagorized themself as a bully. Think about what you're saying, and how it would make you feel if someone else said the same thing to you. For that matter, think before you act or speak. Use an account here on Writing.Com to vent frustrations, not another person.

These experiences can haunt people for a lifetime. I have written a few pieces about my experiences, one of which I took some exerpts from to write this article.

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My name is Caille Fille, and I just turned 15. My favorite team is the Yankees, and I love to play softball. I eat a tunafish sandwich almost every day. I loved J.R.R. Tolkein's The Lord of the Rings and think that Peter Jackson did a great job with the movie version. I love hanging out with friends and playing my viola. I'm still a kid who wants to have fun and be free of worry and responsibility. I want to live life to the fullest.

Don't make fun of me because of who I am inside. Don't make fun of me because I don't want to conform or be like you. Don't make fun of my hair or my clothes, and don't hate me because I'm different. Don't tease me because I like punk rock, don't laugh because I play a string instrument. Don't hate me because I'm clumsy, or because I'm a boorkworm, or because I get good grades.

Don't make fun of me, because we are more alike than we are unalike.

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Bullying: From Your Mouth to My Column

I created a survey a month or so ago, asking you about your experiences with the evils of bullying. I would like to thank all of you for answering so honestly. Here are the responses:



bloodklotz

"Haha, where to start.

When I was 6 I moved from one part of England to another, which ment moving school. At my new school I was 'the new kid', and so naturally i spent most playtime's by myself.

My father is Irish, and I had a slightly Irish accent. My teacher picked up on this, stood me in front of the class, recorded my voice and played it back, telling the class that the way I spoke wasn't the proper way, and that my English was poor. Hence, one of my earliest school memories being in the playground, with 5 or 6 girls standing arund me telling me to 'go back to where I came from' (despite 'where I came from' being London) because 'they couldn't understand me'.

Needless to say this didn't start me out well in school.

I spent my playtimes by myself, making up little games, and observing the other children. I was, and I know this sounds big-headed, a bright child. My parents taught me to read before I started school, and I always had a hunger for knowledge. This also was fuel for bullies.

By the age of 7, I was convinced I was hideously ugly, because that was what I had always been told by my peers. I remember sitting in assembly and imagining cutting off all the girls ponytails and pigtails just above the band, so that they lost their beautiful hair, and they could feel ugly like me. Yes, it's a morbid thing for a 7 year old to think, but it's honest.

That year, a girl from the year below me was moved up to my class. As she was having difficulty making friends, the teacher asked my parents if they would encourage me to be her friend because I was 'a sensible younge girl who would be a good influence on her'. What we didn;t know at that time was that she didn;t make friends because she was spiteful, nasty, selfish, and a bully.

For four years she powered over me, she undermined everything I did, and crushed any self-worth I had left. I wanted to die. If the medicine cabinate had not been locked and out of reach for an 8-9 year old, I really think I would have overdosed. I was that unhappy. I was told every day how I was usless, ugly, stupid, how nobody liked me, and anyone hwho said different was lying because they pittied me. I believed every word. Why would she lie- she was my friend after all. I didn't tell my parents... she'd told me they didn't love me anyway.

When we were 11 we were going to secondary school. She'd obviously decided I wasn't fun to play with anymore, and a few weeks before the end of term told her parents and all our teacher that I'd been bullying her and beating her up since we'd met. They all believed her. Luckily my parent believed me, and everything started to unravel.

We went to secondary school. She went to the same one as me. Shortly before she'd accused me of bullying, she'd been going on about how 'we can go to the same school, the same university, and then work together!' To me this sounded like a threat along the lines of 'you'll never get away'. I felt imprisioned.

Luckily in secondary school I managed to avoid her as much as possible. She still tried to control me, and spread lies about me, but I was beyond caring.

Unfortunatly I was now 'an unpopular person'. I was, I am, the target of the 'in group'. I refuse to conform to their way of thinking, to their fashion, to their lifestyle, and because I seem fine with who I am, and it's not who they are, it scares them. They don't understand that I don't need to feel popular to feel happy.

I don't always feel happy. I frequently feel very sad, and very angry. I have a lot of hatred in me. I joke about it, saying that one day I'll be the first school shooter of England, but sometimes I get bored and count the people in the class who I really feel I could kill without remorse. It's always over half.

I don't like hating people, I don't want to, but it's all they've left me with. I've spent my school years just counting down until I get to leave. I've only got 3 years left.

I feel so angry that bullies have taken away the joy from my childhood, and that I let them."

Thank you for your response. The point you make about the school shootings is true, I think there are days when everyone makes up mental hitlists, counting how many of those bullies the world would be better off without.


Wrinkles

"I haven't really been bullied that much, and I haven't got any friends! Once I was strangled by a girl in my class. And I was threatened by someone because I told a teacher she was smoking and playing with lighters in a classroom. Apart from that and the name calling now and then such as dork, nerd, idiot and others I care not to mention) thats it.
I had to do an article on bullying and I wrote a poem:
School days are such happy ones,
You often hear it said,
But all I have is worry,
Going around my head.
What will they do to me today?
What will they think or say?
Sometimes I feel so sad,
I want to run away.
The sneering and the jeering,
The slapping and the kicks,
The thought of yet another day,
Makes me feel quite sick.
So I'll just keep on running,
And stay out of their way,
Until I have the courage,
To ask for help someday."

Namecalling is a form of bullying, and often times it can be the worst form. Whoever made up the phrase "sticks and stones can break my bones but names can never hurt me" was an idiot. And I promise you, that some day, someone who likes you for who you are inside will be your friend.


Stevey M

"i was bullied when i started Comprehensive school (junior high i think is the equivelant), i used to be beaten up and have my money stolen etc etc, but eventually the bully was expelled from school for threatening some visiting 6th graders with a knife.

a couple of months later a new guy started at the school and i found myself picking on him more and more, eventually graduating to fighting him (i never stole his money), i soon realised that i was projecting my anger at the original bully onto my victim and using him to extract 'Revenge' for my first 2 years of misery at the school.
i apologised to the boy in question and we were friends until we finished school.
i have forgiven the bully for what he did to me physically, but i've never forgotten what he did to me emotionally and the pain i caused someone else because of him.

Bullying begats Bullying."

So true. I just wish that when teachers dealt with bullies, they would understand that harsh punishments aren't always the answer. Getting to the root of the problem is the only way to eliminate bullying, and sometimes it's better to stop force with kindness than force with force.


dbelfort

"I've been bullied and I've been a bully. I think about some of the things I did now and I'm 21. I feel bad for what I did and I don't understand why I did some of those things. I am not a mean person (or at least I didn't turn out that way!) Once in a while when something bad happens in my life I wonder if I'm still paying for it... I don't really know what more to say. I got treated just as badly by other kids. In fact, maybe that's where I learned how to treat others that way. In first grade, there was this girl named Catherine Kalotay who used to sharpen her pencil and then poke me under the desk with it. I used to come home with bruises and gashes all over my knees. That was in first grade, but I never started being a bully until seventh grade or so. Maybe subconsciously I was just tired of being picked on all the time. Who knows?"

Acts of violence should be reported to an adult. Even though it is a form of bullying, it goes much farther than that if physical wounds are created.


fairydreamer

"I have been bullied. All throughout elementary, and junior high, I was bullied mainly because I was about 20 pounds overweight, and partially because my name was pretty odd . . . Aida. They used to throw food at me, pick on me everytime I sat down at lunch to eat, make fun of my name, say cruel things about my weight, like that I am john candy's daughter. All I can say about the people that bully is that one day they will get theirs. Everything comes back to them three times. I don't know how someone can get satisfaction out of someone elses suffering. It's wrong."

One of my best friends is overweight. If only those members of the popular and pretty crowd had the brains to see that just because she's not gorgeous or has the body of a supermodel, she's still a good person inside. By the way . . . I think your name is beautiful! :)

Exerpts from responses by Ms Kimmie

"Unfortunately, for bullied kids, existing is enough to "upset" bullies. Of course, bullies threaten, not just with physical violence, but with their words. They warned me not to rat on them, or else. Unfortunately, I'd had a lot of experience with those sorts of threats already--long story that goes too far into a dark childhood than this article requires, but the result was, I took such threats VERY seriously.

"The bullying went on for over two years . . . until a new teacher came to our school. A Phillipino man with large white teeth, and standing not much taller than undersized me, Mr. Arcilla, gave me new hope. He didn't ask me about my wounds. He didn't step in and stop the bullies. That just wasn't done back then. Instead, he made me believe in myself. It began with drama. He "discovered" my talent for it, and together, we made the Drama Department of our small school, grow! He also started a school paper and made me Assistant Editor. I was in my element. It meant I had to stay after school to meet deadlines on the paper, study lines for plays, work on sets, and help others with their lines too (I had a knack for directing as well).

I just wasn't "there" for the bullies to beat up on. There was a new bounce to my step. I didn't slink in the hallways, fearful for my life anymore. My life had purpose. I mattered. The things I loved to do, mattered. Once the paper came out, and once we began putting on plays for the school and our community, people's attitudes toward me changed. Because I had changed. They saw what I put out there--that I was worthwhile and I had confidence in myself (not much but enough to get me through two and a half more years at that school). That teacher changed my life.

"Teachers can make a difference. If they get involved with their students, help them to find what they're good at, find their passion, then a child's whole school experience--their perspective can change. When YOU change, when you're not afraid anymore, the bullies have no real reason to pick on you. When they know it's useless, they leave you alone.

"I wish there had been anti-bully programs available back then. Maybe I wouldn't have had to endure two and a half years of beatings at the hands of my peers. We didn't even have children's help lines back then. Now there are resources available for kids and I can't stress enough how important it is to use them. Now, to turn a blind eye is a form of aiding and abetting. Not acceptable."

(The next portion deals with her son's experiences being bullied. I decided just to include the whole thing, so you don't miss out on any part of the story )

"His bullying started when he began at a new school. He was one of those little kids who didn't feel lunch on his face, and didn't notice if his socks were half off his feet. He just . . . didn't notice. He outgrew that, but when you're new at a school, those traits aren't exactly endearing. The boys made fun of him. We were all unhappy in our new surroundings; my son, my husband, and me, so we moved back to our old neighborhood.

In the time we were gone, and with the bad experiences my son had just had, he was still a little nervous about going to school. It was also right on the heels of the Columbine shooting. I ran out and bought that book "Real Boys" and I'm so glad I did! It talked about the code that little boys are expected to live by--how they're taught to buck up, don't cry, stand tall, get the other guy before he gets you--and how to combat it. The message was clear. No more would the old adage "Boys will be boys" be acceptable as an excuse for bullying.

Well, at first, my son wasn't the one being bullied, but he was always on guard for it. When he saw another boy being bullied, he jumped right in and tried to stop the bully himself and always went to the teacher. The teacher ignored him and said the words too familiar to me. "If it were that big a problem he'd come to me himself." When my son told me that, I had a meeting with the teacher.

We discussed it, she said she'd look into it and then she said the one thing I hoped she wouldn't. She said "Keep in mind that your son may just be a little too sensitive. You know how boys are. Boys will be boys." Boys will be boys? I railed on her.

I said "Is that your excuse for looking the other way?" Just because a bully will tell you they're only playing, and just because the victim won't speak up because he's afraid, doesn't make the story true." I gave her a whole lecture on how the boys will be boys statement only served to keep outdated, unacceptable behaviors alive, and only encouraged bullying. I explained how victims often don't have the courage to speak up for themselves, and so they rely on the kindness of others to step in and help. She apologized--to keep the peace and get me out of her classroom, I was sure. I thought my speech had fallen on deaf ears, but the next day, my son came home and told me about how they had a big discussion that day about bullying--to step up and protect a friend, tell a grown-up, etc. I was satisfied with the result. My son ended up getting right back into his old "I love school" mentality and I loved that.

Then about a month later, I noticed that his enthusiasm for school was declining. It was nearly the end of the school year. I asked him if everything was okay and he admitted that the boy who had been bullying his friend, had begun bullying him. He hadn't wanted to say anything about it because the end of the year was so close. I worried about that too. Wondered if I should get involved. I didn't wonder long. My son was being bullied!

He asked me not to go to the teacher because, he said, she treated him like an annoying tattle-tale. I had no idea! I respected his wishes though and asked him if he'd mind if I talked to the bully. He said that was okay. He told me that boy bullied a lot of kids. So, I went to the school with him (I volunteered at the school all the time so it wasn't unusual for me to be there). I went up to the boy (whom I happened to catch bullying another boy) and said in a low voice, "If you think we parents don't know what you're doing, guess again. And if you think you're going to get away with it, you are in for a big surprise buddy." He looked nervous.

My son reported that it had worked. At least for a few days--and then it got worse! I said I had no choice but to go to the teacher. He agreed to that. I went to his teacher, again she said perhaps I was overreacting, perhaps my son was just a little too sensitive, etc. So I wrote her a letter about it, and sent a copy to the principal as well. In it, I stated how disappointed our meeting had gone and that I would expect, after the Columbine shootings, that schools would be doing all they could to nip bullying in the early stages before they even got to high school. It was a long letter (much like this huh? Sorry).

Anyway, we had another meeting. After receiving my letter, she went to the bully's parents and had a talk with them. They were surprised to learn of it and were willing to do anything they could to help their son stop bullying. Now THAT was a nice surprise. He stopped bullying my son. That was grade two.

So, what happened? The following year, the school stepped up their anti-bullying program. They offered solutions for how to stop being bullied, what to do when you are, and what to do when friends are. One solution to stop a bully was to "discourage him from bullying." By talking to him or her, helping them to refocus their energies, etc. My son was all for that program. He came home with awards from time to time for being one who "Stops Bullying In It's Tracks." If he saw a bully doing the glaring thing at a potential victim, he'd say "Hey, come throw the ball with me," or if he saw a kid outnumbered, he'd go over and start a game of tag. He became very good at diffusing potentially harmful situations.

When we left that school this past year, and my son started at a new school, he left the last one a better place than he found it. I'm proud of him for that. And the boy who had been a bully, was just as good as diffusing situations as my son. They'd even become friends.

This school doesn't have an anti-bully program. I'm curious to see what this year will be like. If I know my son, he'll get in there and defend the underdog. If necessary, maybe I'll volunteer to help set up their anti-bully program. I've never done that before!"

Wow, Kimmy talks a lot! Kudos to you, Kim, for straightening that teacher out. It's interesting to note how parents handle confrontation when their child is being bullied differently based on their own experiences as children. Kimmy hadn't been supported by her parents, to say the least, and wasn't about to stand by and watcher her son go through such a painful experience alone. My parents had experiences similar to mine, and decided that I could fight my own battles. Gee, thanks dad. Hey, Kim . . . can you adopt me? Ooooooh would you look at that, Kimmy addresses how teachers really do make a difference, similar to my first T-Zine column perhaps? Verrrrry interesting . . .


pondlife87

"In my experience, bullies are hypocrites. They don't really care that you are hurt by what they are doing to you, but when it comes to them, they simply can't understand why people are "being mean to them".

Bullies are usually kids because kids are selfish. It's fact. When you are young, especially below 5, you get angry with the world for not operating solely around you. Because kids are selfish, they are insensitive to others' feelings. Because they are insensitive to others' feelings, they can be damn cruel.

Just a note, in case you were wondering - I'm in Year 10. (Interesting that bullying has kind of died out with secondary school... maturity maybe?)"

You're right, generally the bullies themselves are quite immature, because they can't deal with their problems internally, instead taking out insecurities and frustrations on other people. If any of you are as fortunate as me and have a great group of friends who, though we get teased frequently, don't really care what other people say or think, then you should realize why the best way to blow off a bully's comment is to laugh. Most of the time what they say is catty and childish, only supporting the fact that bullies are emotionally unstable and immature.


Chaos Master

"Elementry school was misrable. I was picked on more than an eight-string guitar, simply because I was too nice to do anything about it. This one guy in particular, an ugly rich kid who gets out of trouble way too much because his grandfather is horribly famous, he'd go out of his way to hurt me.

When I got into high school things turned around. There's a lot more people around, and no one can hide under the guise of self proclaimed "popularity". The afformentioned bully has been kicked out of school for drugs, and I've been elected into executive council."

See? It does get better, and what goes around, comes around. Unfortunately you're right, a lot of times kids can pull strings because of the position of their parents, friends, or relatives, and it's really not fair.


gwynkitty

"I'm a very sensitive person. If I get mad, sad, happy, etc, I usually respond by crying to some degree. As you can well imagine, that made me a prime target for bullies. I spent my first eight years of school in the corner, hiding, afraid, alone. Well, that's sorta not the case anymore. After a steep depression (I let my grades drop to a C and I'm usually an A+ student without even trying, that's how bad it was), I realized that it didn't matter what anyone thought. Sure, I cry a lot, but that's me, so if they don't like it, they can just go talk to someone else. That's my philosophy now. I like people, I'm shy, but in a familiar setting I am very open and lively. If you don't like me (and I do rub some people the wrong way somehow), then get over it or go somewhere else. Now I wear my hair purple some days and take the attempts at bullying with a smile. You can't be bullied if you don't let yourself. Be confident and they can't hurt you. And that's it."

My philosophy exactly. You go girl!


Alex Elizabeth

"Since I've never gone to school, I haven't had any experience with the traditional playground bully. I've been teased and manipulated in my life, but have never been physically bullied.

One incident of cruel teasing remains in my mind--I was in a group of dancers and we were having a really hard time getting our dance together. The group just wasn't clicking, and our adult leader had no idea what to do with 8 young adults who couldn't stand each other's guts. I, being a nice, kind person, tried my best to be civil to the other dancers, but one girl really took advantage of our animosity and tried to turn everyone against each other. I don't want to repeat every incident, but one moment she'd be talking away with syrupy sweetness, and the next she'd be in another corner repeating what you just said to her, mocking you all the way. She grumbled about my sister to me and about me to my sister, trying to get us to turn on each other. Finally, when she was mercilessly going at my sister, I blew up at her and used some harsh language. That made the adults come running and try to smooth things over, but, needless to say, the group never hit it off. We only lasted that one show before people started dropping out. Unforunately, Elise, the bully, was the last to go."

That's the difference, a lot of times, between bullying between girls and bullying between boys. The stereotypical male bully is one who beats kids up and steals their milk money. The stereotypical female bully is one who sweettalks, backstabs, humiliates, and alienates people. This is one of those examples in which that stereotype holds true. The sad thing is, the only people punished by this incident were the dancers who Elise was giving a hard time. Yet another example of why life just isn't fair.

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Big thanks to earthwoman for creating the first half of the Bullying image for me :)!!!

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