By: Scott Hacker, a.k.a. “TJ”
Unfortunately, as of late, there has been increasing news about bullying. While bullying has apparently intensified over the past decade or so, many of us have frames of reference from our school years, whether from our own experience, from witnessing bullying, or even in some cases uncomfortably going along with bullying. My memories of bullying go back to when I was in the second grade…
I grew up on a farm in a small town and being that we lived out in the country, I rode the bus to school every day. At the time, the bus route came to my house last in the morning, before getting to school, which meant that I boarded the bus when it was completely full. Most days, the only open seat was right in front of a school bully, Jared. Although I only had to deal with Jared’s crap for about fifteen minutes before we got to school, it was the longest fifteen minutes of every day. He would flick me behind my ears, pull my hair, push my head, terrorize and harass me constantly. I remember he brought me to tears on a few occasions. Other kids around me sat in terrified silence, probably hoping that Jared wouldn’t turn his attention their way. A few of them would laugh along with him, but I could see in their eyes that they didn’t like what he was doing. Thankfully the bus driver, Vera, finally noticed. After she watched me get off the bus in tears one day, she did something about it. From then on, she made Jared sit up in the front seat, right next to her. I learned sometime later that Vera, who was in her mid 50’s, was gay and from an abusive family.
A few years later, my parents went through a divorce and my mother remarried a man with a son who was much older than me. Paul and I didn’t really hang out or even talk all that much but we attended the same school system. He did step up and used his power one time though, in my defense — I will never forget…
One winter day, we faced a sheet of ice as we got off the bus at school. The previous night’s rain had frozen overnight to very slippery ice everywhere, especially on the paved walk ways and parking lots. It was the kind of day where school might be closed in many places but, noooo, not in Michigan. It could be a lot fun to slide and play on the ice, but on this particular morning, I found someone waiting for me as I got off the bus. Yep, Jared. My hands were full with my book bag and pager bag lunch and it was tough to keep my balance while walking on the ice. Sure enough, Jared came sliding over and found it twistedly amusing to keep pushing me down on the ice; every time I’d get up and walk a few steps, he’d push me down again and again. Just as I started getting up after about the fourth fall, I looked over and saw Jared lying on the ground next to me, sprawled out. I was confused. Then all at once and out of nowhere, my new big step-brother Paul came sliding up to us with a frustrated look on his face.
Paul was a sophomore in high school and much bigger than Jared. Paul helped pick me and all my stuff up off the ground; I was nearly in tears again. I said ‘thanks’ to Paul and plodded my way into the school. As I looked back one final time, I saw Paul talking to Jared. I don’t know what he said but Jared never harassed me again.
As I think back on that time, I can find a way to feel sorry for Jared. Over the years since, I’ve learned that many bullies were themselves bullied or abused by parents, older siblings, or other authority figures. I’ve also become aware that the bruises and cigarette burns on the arms of small children living in foster group homes may often be the markers of previous abuse and that this abuse may lead these kids to either their own bullying behavior or depression and feelings of unworthiness. Abuse is a vicious cycle that gets perpetuated through generations and eats at our collective well-being like a cancer.
Mostly, I’ve become more aware of the incredible power of bystanders. The bullies are the minority of any group. I often reflect on how good it felt to have my older step-brother Paul and my bus driver, Vera, as bystanders in separate incidents, stepping in to help me when I was being bullied. Paul didn’t have to, really. We weren’t particular friends, not even after that incident. But the feeling he gave me, his help, heart and consideration for protecting those who needed help inspires me to this day!
These memories motivate me and my desire to provide assistance to those being bullied or abused by providing a forum and resource for constructive discussion, education, enlightenment and awareness. A place to learn more about social concerns, ask questions and express thoughts and feelings for the greater good. To report, educate and talk about social injustice and ways to go about a better future together.
In a sense, this article is my virtual ‘coming out’; not in the sense of my sexuality being that I’m straight. My name is Scott Hacker, founder and curator of Taboojive.com. If you follow along with our facebook page, you know me as the pseudonym “TJ”. Like WHOF, I fully support and will continue to use my platform to advocate for LGBT and humans rights.
As a bystander, through my website and media network is how I choose to use my power; to offer, create and share awareness, enlightenment, and education as a resource for the seekers, finders and supporters.
Please join me and help me make a difference by participating, discussing, and sharing your thoughts on our postings and topics; sharing your experiences, advice and suggesting ways to best progress forward together, bully free, through bystander intervention. Together, through our collective discussions, we can make a real difference for many, many people who are anonymously following along. xx
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