No One Seemed to Care

bully pictLately, I’ve been writing again. I love writing. I love the feeling of taking a pen or pencil to lined paper and creating my own piece of art. I feel like a creator when I write. Unfortunately, I’ve been trying to write about what happened to me with some fictional twist here and there. I think it’s going really well, but I’m realizing things that I hadn’t realized before about myself.

One major thing I realized is that bullying really did affect me most of my life. When did the bullying start for me? First grade. I know right! That is way too young, but when girls in your class don’t want to play with you because they tell you you’re too fat…yep, that sure starts a terrible low self-esteem issue. How about when in fifth grade the boys call you Buffalo every day and tell you you’re going to break the chair you’re sitting in because you’re too fat. And when you’re laughed at because you can’t breathe after running the mile in gym class due to asthma in sixth grade. And the boys in junior high walking down the hall with you calling out “Boom-badda-boom” every time your foot hits the ground. These are just some of the things I can remember. I know others have it much worse and students sometimes become violent to those they are bullying.

What gets me is…where were the adults, the teachers, the friends when all this was happening? Where was justice in stopping these acts from happening to me and to all other people that are bullied?

I know when I taught high school, I would sometimes catch acts of bullying happening to my students. I would step in, but you always were afraid of what would happen when you weren’t there and if you made the situation worse for that student. One thing that impacted me the most was what my fifth grade teacher said when I told her about the other students harassing me every day. She said that I needed to accept that students picking on me was a way of life and I needed to learn how to deal with it myself. She never even told the group of boys to stop harassing me.

So, I want to help somehow with the bullying issue.  How do you do that though?


4 thoughts on “No One Seemed to Care

  1. Sheri Weinberg March 10, 2013 / 8:09 AM

    I found that the only way I could write about my past was to fictionalize it. It was too painful otherwise. At least I now have a real life happily-ever-after ending.

    • mydualities March 10, 2013 / 10:44 AM

      I feel the same way too. I also chose to fictionalize it so that I didn’t have to be confined by the rules of creative nonfiction and the limitations of dialogue if I wrote what happened 13 years ago. I can’t remember exactly, but I have a rough idea, so I went from there. I still have to write the ending though, but I’m working on it.
      Thanks for the comment. I’d love to hear from you again!

      • Sheri Weinberg March 10, 2013 / 12:23 PM

        I was able to do the beginning and the end, but for some reason the middle was still too difficult.

      • mydualities March 10, 2013 / 12:59 PM

        Maybe giving it time will help.

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