I must have been 10 or 11 when a new girl joined our middle school.
She was gangly, wore glasses and seemed very pale and fragile. She looked and moved like she was out of place, even more than my brother, sister and I did (we were the only non-whites at our school, so we were automatically considered ‘outsiders’). One morning, a rumour started circulating that I was going to fight the new girl after school.
I never knew who started the rumor or why, but I remember feeling trapped. I thought to myself: “If I don’t fight the girl, I will be considered a “loser”, and shamed…” But if I did fight the girl, I’d be no better than the bullies I hated.
It was a terrible conundrum. I dreaded the end of the day. How was I going to fight this girl who hadn’t harmed me in any way? I had nothing against her. I had never started a fight with anyone, and the fights I did have were usually against bullies.
The end of the day arrived, and a circle formed around me. A group of kids started the familiar chant: “Fight! Fight! Fight!” I looked for the girl.
She was heading in the same direction I walked home every day. My heart sank. There was no avoiding this fight. I started to follow her, with the crowd hot on my heels. They shouted “Get her!” “Grab her hair!” “Punch her in the face!”
Then the name calling started, aimed towards her. Some of the kids pushed me, forcing me to bump into her. I continued to walk – I didn’t know how to muster up the anger or hate to hit her.
She walked on and I followed – it was the way home for both of us. Slowly, some of the kids began to leave, bored with the game, while others steadily became more insistent. They continued to push me and taunt the new girl. The inner tension I felt was exhausting. I wanted the whole thing to be over. I thought if I just push her a little bit, then at least we would be in a fight and closer to getting it over with.
I pushed her quite aggressively a few times. When she made an attempt to turn towards me, she ended up falling on the ground. Her glasses fell off, and one of the lenses popped out of the frame. There was a gasp from the crowd. The girl began to cry. I felt terrible. How could I have done such a thing?
But instead of helping the girl, I said “Don’t mess with me,” and walked away. I was done with the crowd, I was done with the girl, and most of all I was done with myself. I felt ashamed of my behavior, and thought I would be in trouble for breaking the girl’s glasses.
Nothing happened the next day. There was no mention of the fight at the school assembly, I was not called into the headmaster’s office, and most of my classmates continued to ignore me as usual. The new girl came to school wearing her glasses taped together. Although that was the end of the saga, the tumultuous moments of our “fight” stuck with me. It was a valuable lesson on bullying.
That is my one experience of being a bully. There were other incidents of bullying that I recall from my childhood; running for my life from a pack of girls chasing my sister and me, or my brother and I being taunted by a group of skinhead teenagers who shouted “Sieg Heil” as we passed them on our way home for lunch.
I have often wondered what drives people to be cruel in such situations, or at the very least extremely thoughtless about their victim’s plight. Except for one or two incidents, I was not afraid of the bullies. I stood up to most of them (including the skinheads) before I thought through the repercussions.
“Bullying is a form of aggressive behavior manifested by the use of force or coercion to affect others, particularly when the behavior is habitual and involves an imbalance of power. It can include verbal harassment, physical assault or coercion and may be directed repeatedly towards particular victims, perhaps on grounds of race, religion, gender, sexuality, or ability. The “imbalance of power” may be social power and/or physical power.” – Wikipedia.
Bullying has become a more prominent social concern in recent years. From cyber-bullying to federal bullying (e.g. the stop and search tactics employed by law enforcement officers, particularly in cities like New York), to nations exercising sanctions against countries like Iran to try and sway the direction of their (Iran’s) domestic policies.
What I see is a common thread of power and fear conjoined as a destructive twin in the above examples. People are afraid of homosexuality, afraid of African-American and Hispanic males, afraid of other nations being autonomous and so on. Because of these fears, extreme measures are taken in the name of morality, crime prevention and national security.
Unfortunately, these measures usually create even more fear, intolerance and injury. Yet the people at the helm of these misuses are no different from you and me. They are the students, the police officers, the politicians.
If someone were to ask “Have you ever bullied someone? A child, a spouse, a friend, a colleague?” I’m fairly certain most people would answer in the negative. When we think of bullies, we picture them as terrible people who cause pain to others for no apparent reason. And yet, if we were to be really honest, we would realize we too have bullied someone or some being (e.g. pets) at some point in our lives.
Take a moment and think about it. Bullying doesn’t always look the same in the arenas of our homes and lives. It may be more subtle, and the hues may not be apparent at first glance. Keep looking.
It may be the way you speak that creates fear, or your sarcasm that causes hurt. We have to dig around into the depths of our being until we can find that place where we misuse power – in an instant, or over time. It is absolutely necessary to not just become familiar with this part of ourselves, but also to know how this part operates. If can begin to know how it operates within our own lives, then we can begin to understand how and why it operates in lives of others, tribes and nations.
It is only through direct inquiry and understanding that we can begin to sort through this entangled mess, and create new pathways for exercising our strengths and knowledge. Being powerful is not destructive in and of itself. It is our fears and struggles around power that cause dysfunctional behaviors.
So where in your life do you hold power that needs to be rebalanced and recharted? In intimate relationships? At work? In relationship to yourself? Once we clear out the negative thoughts/associations/behaviors around power, there is no longer any need to struggle against those who are utilizing their strengths, or fear standing up to those who bully.
There is enough to do on this planet that requires the strength, intelligence and wisdom of everyone on Earth. Let’s be willing to reinvent our relationship to power by waking up from our collective trance that conveniently says that “Power is in the hands of the few,” and choose to move with the wisdom from within. Then, and only then, can the truly inspiring depth and strength of our collective human character be truly revealed
Abraham Lincoln said, “Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.”