Remembering When...

I got bullied.

Reading news reports about bullying makes me want to become an advocate for the death penalty. Legalize marijuana but put bullies to death. The effects of drug use can heal over time as I suppose the effects of bullying can too, but, unfortunately, the scenes of being shoved into a bathroom and beaten with fists by more than one person are a lot more vivid today than sneaking a joint and a couple smooches with a raven-haired beauty at camp. I wish it was the other way around.

The other day I was walking the Mongrel and saw a young boy walking down the street with his mother. Joy and innocence of being a pre-teen in the summer time was covered by a mask of sadness over his face. The mother attended to her son with an expression that was a mix of concern and strength. These two were on their way away from a playground. As the Mongrel and I approached the playground I saw more kids than ever playing various games all across the blacktop lot. I don't know the story but I couldn't help but wonder - why can't everyone just get along?

I know it is hard for anyone to believe that such a bad-ass warrior as myself, who turned into one of the most incredible human beings ever, was ever bullied but it is true. The pain both physically and emotionally was exceptionally hard to deal with. I was new at Sts. Peter and Paul so I was attacked in the boys bathroom by two guys who didn't like the fact that I was there. They punched me continuously in the arms and chest so nothing would show and alert the Sisters. I was also attacked by a group of girls who pulled my shorts down outside of the locker room. Today I wouldn't mind that so much, as long as it wasn't too cold outside, but back then it was horrific. Later in my teens, a knife was pulled on me in a  restroom at Easton High School. These are just a few of the incidents.

Maybe it was because my parents made me dress like a geek or I always said out loud that I wanted to be a pirate when asked what profession would you choose. Something made people want to f#*k with me and most of that was the result of my own undoing. I could be a little weird. A lot of other kids had it much worse than I did. There were a few times that someone I knew just didn't show up to school the next day, or any other day after that. You would hear about sightings of that person around town, but they just weren't there anymore. School was awful; no wonder I liked going to church so much.

In Chicago, bullying can happen with guns or big sticks and death can be the result. Times are harsher. I contemplate getting back into teaching so I can be a part of suppressing intimidation. But the thought of doing so also scares me. School grounds in Chicago are no joke!

My trauma happened way before technology made it easier to be crueler. (Even though it is hard for me to imagine anything crueler than a fifth grader having his shorts pulled down on an exceptionally brisk fall day!) I don't know how one deals with bullying in today's society. One of the reasons I stopped teaching high school was the fact that there is hardly any discipline left in the modern school system. Whenever I saw even the slightest acts of bullying by a student I wanted to pulverize him or her into the macadam. Most of what I saw was verbal that had to deal with family income, athletic prowess, weight, or mental capabilities. If there was an incident usually a scholarship student had to deal with harsher penalties more so than a full-tuition student, no matter who was at fault. Witnessing bullying in any form would ruin my day. I took my job home with me and that was not a good thing. I am older now so maybe things are different.

Much respect goes out to the families who have to encourage a child to persevere through the time of their youth, despite the cruelty of others. I don't know why I wanted to write about this...the subject of bullying has been on my mind as of late. A lot of my time is spent quietly sitting back in observation of the world around me. Too many young sad faces pass through my field of vision. I want to stop them and tell them it gets better.

I want to say "look at me; look how great I turned out!"

But then they might say: "you are always broke and looking for work."

Then I will tell them: "I'm an artist these things take time!"

And they will say: "Whatever, old man."

Which is fine. Some people like to be advised and some people just need to get through it and work it out their own way. But it's out there and if there is an opportunity to make some one smile we need to grasp that moment and make it work. Eli Mongrel is good at making kids smile, he is much better at it than I am!

Now it's officially summer! Summer should be a time of carefree activity and growth in a young person's life. I hope all the kids out there get to regroup and enjoy themselves during the time off from school. As an adult who gets to visit home in the summer I sometimes run into or hear stories about the two guys who initiated me into the brotherhood of being bullied. They never look happy and you never hear their names in any of the "good ol' stories" from back in the day that old friends like to tell. Happiness and laughter don't appear to be in their dictionaries. It's almost like the cliche you see in many teen movies and somehow I can't help but smile...