Every Wednesday I do something called... wait for it "Writing Wednesday" (yup, obvious and alliterative). This week being Bully Awareness, and more specifically today being Pink Shirt Day, I thought it best to maybe use today's writing prompt as an opportunity to write more from the heart. Where I normally pick students to read their work, this time I allowed them to volunteer to share. I prefaced that their words could be the ones someone needed to hear, or that by writing it all down they could potentially find comfort in release. As with every week though I also wrote something down. This is what I said:
I'm always surprised with the amount of surprise on people's faces when I say that I was bullied. I was the dopey, scrawny looking carrot top with glasses in school, and as such I had a rather large target on my back in regards to bullying. What was worse was that I also had a temper. It was easy for my buttons to be pushed and my fuse to be blown. The result, of course, being a rather large spectacle of pure immaturity and reaction. I was lucky though. I had friends. I wouldn't say a lot, but it was the quality of their character that mattered, and soon the opinions of others, if negative, drifted to the wayside. My temper lessened and the bullies lost their power over me. I was also lucky because I could get away from it. Sure I had to go to school where the bullies were, sure they knew where I lived and might follow me home, but that was it. There was a start and a finish line to my bullying. I was able to become more comfortable in my skin, and comfortable doing things that made me happy; like music, drama, sports, homework, reading, skipping class. I chose whose opinions mattered to me and I lived my life in a way that made me happy, cause the people who mattered to me also had me matter to them, and thus they didn't judge what I did. Today is a completely different thing though. You can't run and hide. You can't escape. Our lives revolve around a device that practically chains us to an avenue of abuse and bullying. Faceless bullying. To not be able to call out an accuser and tell them to stop, is difficult. When multiple users with names ever changing constantly berate you, it's tough to hold your head up high. For all we know it could be the same person with a lot of time on their hands, multiple accounts and too much anger in their heart. I can't stand up here as a teacher and talk about a singular moment I see, cause I see too much. I see moments that I can't decipher either, cause friendship brings friendly ribbing and teasing, and no one ever admits that they feel threatened and attacked. I’m also inundated with phrases like “snitches get stitches”, a social norm that protects bullies, because the moment someone talks, they become a pariah amongst their peers. How do you win? How do you survive? Well to them I say this, you are not alone, you never will be alone and to face it alone is something I hope you never feel you have to do. I am an ear if needed, a voice if wanted and a 6ft 4 towering Ginger in a unicorn shirt with a Wakizashi blade... if it goes that far.
There was also a student who wrote some strong words down, about people not being the only bullies in our lives, but how situations can also feel like a bully. With their permission I took a picture of what they wrote.
I'm always surprised with the amount of surprise on people's faces when I say that I was bullied. I was the dopey, scrawny looking carrot top with glasses in school, and as such I had a rather large target on my back in regards to bullying. What was worse was that I also had a temper. It was easy for my buttons to be pushed and my fuse to be blown. The result, of course, being a rather large spectacle of pure immaturity and reaction. I was lucky though. I had friends. I wouldn't say a lot, but it was the quality of their character that mattered, and soon the opinions of others, if negative, drifted to the wayside. My temper lessened and the bullies lost their power over me. I was also lucky because I could get away from it. Sure I had to go to school where the bullies were, sure they knew where I lived and might follow me home, but that was it. There was a start and a finish line to my bullying. I was able to become more comfortable in my skin, and comfortable doing things that made me happy; like music, drama, sports, homework, reading, skipping class. I chose whose opinions mattered to me and I lived my life in a way that made me happy, cause the people who mattered to me also had me matter to them, and thus they didn't judge what I did. Today is a completely different thing though. You can't run and hide. You can't escape. Our lives revolve around a device that practically chains us to an avenue of abuse and bullying. Faceless bullying. To not be able to call out an accuser and tell them to stop, is difficult. When multiple users with names ever changing constantly berate you, it's tough to hold your head up high. For all we know it could be the same person with a lot of time on their hands, multiple accounts and too much anger in their heart. I can't stand up here as a teacher and talk about a singular moment I see, cause I see too much. I see moments that I can't decipher either, cause friendship brings friendly ribbing and teasing, and no one ever admits that they feel threatened and attacked. I’m also inundated with phrases like “snitches get stitches”, a social norm that protects bullies, because the moment someone talks, they become a pariah amongst their peers. How do you win? How do you survive? Well to them I say this, you are not alone, you never will be alone and to face it alone is something I hope you never feel you have to do. I am an ear if needed, a voice if wanted and a 6ft 4 towering Ginger in a unicorn shirt with a Wakizashi blade... if it goes that far.
There was also a student who wrote some strong words down, about people not being the only bullies in our lives, but how situations can also feel like a bully. With their permission I took a picture of what they wrote.
At the end of the day three of my English classes wrote on this subject. I was impressed with their maturity and how serious they took the topic. Sure the sharing was severely diminished as no one felt comfortable sharing on such a strong subject, but taking ownership of one's writing is a nice step to see in my classes. Of course by the end of the day I needed to lighten the mood, so I asked each student to connect with one of their classmates. They did this by either making eye contact with someone, giving them a high-five right up to hugs if they felt so inclined. It was weird and awkward, but the smiles on their faces were authentic. Good enough for me.