I was *very* popular in elementary school. All the clubs. My teachers loved me. I did after-school activities. My mom always had the "cool group" for field trips. I was student class vice president. I moved a lot because my dad was in the military, but I always very quickly grew in popularity when I moved before 3rd grade, before 4th, and before 6th.
But... then, I had the unfortunate displeasure of moving in the middle of a school year (rather than between years in the summer). With two months left in the 7th grade year, I had to just show up in class in the middle of a Wednesday, and somehow survive. The kids were awful. I was a "faggot," a cock-sucker, a pussy. I wore "gay shoes," I had unfashionable clothes. Nobody would sit next to me at lunch. Nobody would be in my group in gym. The worst were kids asking me questions and I knew the only reason they were asking me things was to find new ammunition to make fun of me with. And ON TOP OF THAT, my parents were getting divorced back home.
Dudes, I cried pretty much every single night. I'll happily admit it. I was in 7th grade and I fucking HATED it. And it felt so unfair, because I never picked on kids when I was popular. In 5th grade, there was this girl the whole class made fun of every single day. And I admit, I didn't do anything to defend her... but I didn't join in. End of year, and we had a couple hours dedicated on the playground for year book signing. And of course, everyone is signing mine and vice versa. This unpopular girl is sitting against the building by herself, just flipping through the pages. This goes on for 20 minutes. I walk over to her, and ask if I can sign her year book. She hands me hers, and I knew in that moment she was deathly afraid... I could feel she was on the verge of tears if I wrote anything mean. I did not. I wrote something along the lines of feeling bad we didn't talk more during the year, but I thought she was very smart and I hope she has a great summer. I handed it back, and here I am - 20 something years later - and I will never forget the smile she gave me. After that, every single kid around me asked to sign her book, too, and to have her sign theirs.
I didn't "deserve" to get picked on.
That sounds mean. I realize that. Nobody "deserves" it. But I wasn't fat. I wasn't poor. I wasn't ugly. I could talk to people. I didn't have a stutter. I was pretty smart without being a show-off. I wasn't a goody-good. I wasn't a tattle tale. I wasn't gay. I wasn't a minority. I wasn't handicapped. I don't mean to say any of those individuals are more deserving. I mean to say that kids are indiscriminate when it comes to picking on others. It can truly happen to anyone. No matter how hard you try as a parent. No matter how your kid handles themselves. They can fall victim to the cycle of bullying.
You know what got me by? I had a super supportive mother. My mom was there for me. Every night. She didn't tell me to get over it or make fun of me. But she also didn't rush to the school board or make a scene that would single me out even more. Instead, she listened. And supported me. And reminded me again and again how much I was loved and how it would get better. She gave me confidence. I am not saying that will work for everyone - or even most. The entire point of my diatribe is this: please, please, if you have kids... fucking listen to them. LISTEN. Engage. Be there for them. The world will not help them achieve their dreams. That is, when they're young, a responsibility that solely falls on you as a parent.
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Edit: and (I know this is a semi-unpopular opinion), while I never got suspended for fighting (I have gotten in maybe four fights in my life; I recall getting my lights knocked out in one), if my kid - so long as they don't start it - takes a swing at a bully and gets suspended, I will be taking time off work to take them to Disney Land and buy them video games. Zero tolerance policies are absolute bullshit. Talk shit, get hit. My kid will get in trouble if I find out they are the bully or they started something.
