The "B" Word

I watched this movie last night that was actually pretty heavy.  I mean, I went into the journey after reading a short synopsis that didn't being to cover the weight as the story unfolded.  The plot wasn't based off a true story, but it very well could have been.  As I watched it, some non-repressed childhood memories came into mind.  This movie, by the way, is called, "Teacher", and I rented it on Amazon Prime.  

It's about a high school English teacher up for tenure who advocates relentlessly against bullying.  The main character, the teacher, endured bullying as a child (shown through a series of flashbacks both at home and at school).  Now as an adult, he sees the bullying unfolding in the hallways and classrooms of his school, which triggers the all the aforementioned flashbacks.  He sets out on a mission to protect the victims which seems highly legit and sensitive and way outside his pay scale.  However, everything quickly turns into absolutely madness.  The downward spiral begins when the film uncovers why the bully, a star baseball player, bullied.  I would recommend this movie to everyone.  The scenes of the bullying and aftermath were indeed convincingly real.  The theme of this movie focuses on the word "victim"...(you'll see that in one of the class lectures which foreshadows the looming conclusion)

Having bullying on the brain, my thoughts took me back to grade school.  I grew up right outside of Chattanooga, and had a really great childhood.  My parents built a custom house on a lake, and we had vines growing from trees that we would "AHHHHH" Tarzan off of.  We could hike through the woods down the lake and see neighborhood kids on boats and jet skis.  We would be on our bikes til sunset and then we knew we had to be home for dinner.  It was a different time then.  One view from out neighborhood dock was the back of the magnificent house across the lake owned by Ellsworth McKee, the guy who built an empire by selling Little Debbie cakes out of the trunk of his car.  

I had a best friend (yea I guess I've always kept my circle small).  I can't really remember how we met, but I think we sat together on the school bus and became inseparable after that.  The funniest memory I have of this friendship is each and every time we set out to bake brownies after a long day in the sun...we would burn the brownies, but not just burn them.  They would be a black concrete of smoke by the time we remembered we had backed some brownies.  We never once successfully baked edible boxed brownies.  But, I'm so glad I had a community then.  A best friend, a supportive family.  I guess what I'm saying is a lot of kids don't have that.

I went to a small rural elementary school third through fifth grade, and my first experience with bullying took place in fourth grade.  There were two girls, Julie and Starla.  We were all friends at one initial point at the beginning of the school year.  And, then some "Lord of the Flies"-phrenia crept in and I became their prey.  It was just mean and relentless and constant bullying from both Julie and Starla for no reason whatsoever.  I stopped making excuses for people's behavior a long time ago, but maybe they fed off each other by being mean to me.  Here, I can't tell you why bullies bully.  I think a lot of times it stems from the upbringing and home life.  But sometimes kids are just sociopaths, like the "Good Son"...geez McCaulay Culkin was straight up evil in that flick.  But back to Julie and Starla, the "mean girls," I remember one day I just screamed out loud after being targeted, "STOOOOOPPPP!" right in the middle of class  I got called in with the teacher and Principal to explain my sudden outburst. And, oddly enough, after all was said and done we all became friends again.  I had set my first boundary in life, and they respected it, and we all became friends again.

Skip one year to 5th grade.  I know I've always been different.  These days you can go to a city park and see little ginger heads everywhere, but back when and where I grew up, I was the oddball.  Freckled and redheaded...and to top it all off, I was gap toothed and had a pretty fierce overbite.  Today you'll see all these features gracing the covers of magazines and on America's Next Top Model.  I'll stop right now and say that would have added so much character, as if I needed more.  But, I do thank my parents for the investment in my orthodontia because I can share my "award winning" smile with the world, aside from my crooked bottom teeth (because I kept sitting on my retainer) and the fact that my smile is pretty darn goofy at times.

There was a new kid in my class.  The girls loved him.  I would totally post a picture right now of this kid all grown, but doing so on the internet would probably be bullying.  But, oh, it's so good.  He still looks like bully.  And how his name sounds like "the bully" in a movie. Can I just say, out of random curiosity and the good ol' Information Age, I looked him up online and when I saw his mug shot, it made me smile.  Oh, I'm so bad, I know.  

Now, there are certain rom-coms and moms that will teach young girls that a boy must have a crush on you if he picks on you.  They never taught us that some boys are just straight up run of the mill sociopathic assholes.  Could have made life much easier to not muddle the lines of abusive behavior and potential love connections.  Billy was an abusive bully.  His favorite name for me was, "Red Headed Stepchild" followed by "Bucky Beaver."  I mean, how is that even an insult?  Stepchildren, albeit ginger ones can still be awesome and beavers are super cute.  But believe me, back in the day, it was like the Scarlet Letter was sewn to your chest.  I felt ugly and alienated by him.

It didn't stop with the name calling.  Billy sat on the first row and I sat in the second, and thus we sat next to each other.  One day as I was sitting down at my desk, he pulled the entire desk out from under me and I came down hard on my neck.  Really, had I hit any differently, he could have paralyzed me!  Nobody laughed, which was the catalyst that drove Billy's menacing behavior most of the time.  My teacher, Mr. Stone, ran over to make sure I was okay.  And, Billy had to stand in the corner for the rest of class.  I remember he kept turning around and giving me these death stares and mouthing to me.  Recently, I saw, "Welcome to the Dollhouse" which reminded me of a pre-Napoleon Dynomite 'Coming of Age' classic.  If you watch it, the bully in this flick likes to mouth threats to the main character.  It's actually quite funny, because then he tries to make her his girlfriend.

I graduated 5th grade into the bigger world of Middle School.  I have absolutely no recollections of any first hand experiencing any bullying.  I was so lucky!  These kids were just super chill and relaxed.  However, I do recall a specific instance on the bus one day.  I can still recall how this girl looked.  She was freckled faced like me, had red hair and one of the most terrifying evil grins on her face.  She was always picking on someone.  That day, I saw her blowing spit wads and putting other nasty things in my neighbor's hair.  I had this neighbor who was slightly mentally challenged.  Looking back, I think she may have been somewhere on what we refer to as the spectrum now.  But, she was sweet and kind and thus she was my friend.  And, the longer I watched that happening from the back of the bus, the more this warmness rose up inside me.  When it was time for my stop, I got up and walked down the aisle.  I waited for my neighbor to get off, and then I grabbed the red headed girl's hair and just yanked it as hard as I could and I told her to leave my friend alone! 

So, yea...I was suspended from the bus for a few days.  But when I explained to my parents what had transpired, I was rewarded for sticking up for my neighbor.  I think I even got ice cream on the way home from school for the following days. That girl left my friend alone from there on out.  Then one day my dad came home and made the announcement we would be moving to West Tennessee for his new job.  It was a tad bit traumatic to move right smack in the middle of your eighth grade school year.  

New house, new school, a whole new world of bullies.  I remember walking home from school one day and a group of kids who lived in my neighborhood.  And, this one kid was making fun of my mom for working in the yard.  "Your mom works out in the yard!  Hahhahaah"  I mean, did our affluent community apparently looked down upon any physical labor by women?  Later I learned, obviously, it was a socioeconomic "no no" not have a crew of Mexicans doing your yard work for you.  

I had to basically relearn a different set of values to be accepted into this new environment.  We had a Chevy pick-up truck in the driveway, maybe because we didn't hire everything that needed to be done.  I learned how to drive on a Chevy Silverado.  My mom, by the way, can name most trees, flowers, plants...she enjoys working in the yard!  It's her therapy.  But, yea, I got "yo mama" insults in middle school.  And, I've always been protective of my family so that hit me to the core.  Today's Kimmie has a lot thinner skin after waiting tables through college.  Talk about bullies...wait tables!  But, still to this day, I am super protective of family.

The "new kid", I remember getting up to turn in an assignment to the front of the class and on the way back to my seat, a guy announced loudly to the entire class how flat chested I was.  Laughter broke out.  The teacher did nothing.  Little did I know I should have augmented my chest or maybe worn wonder bras for Kevin's perverted little viewing pleasure.  There were two other girls in my classes who also moved around the same time from other states.  I bonded with them and we quickly became friends.  All three of us were targeted by the same group of boys.  

I remember the worst of the bullying took place at my locker.  By the way, to give a visual of my surroundings, this middle school looked like an insane asylum in a movie.  All the windows were way up high to where there was no view of the outside world.  All the walls were stark white.  And there were rows of lockers on the top and bottom.  I had a bottom locker.  And, as I would bend down to grab my books, one of the boys were walk by and do (what they called) a "three finger swipe."  That's where his fingers would swipe over my privates.  It felt so embarrassing and humiliating, and I couldn't understand why it was happening.

I came home and went to my room most days after school.  I felt alone, I felt violated.  I felt embarrassed for my body.  I would have crying spells.  And, I remember my Dad pressing me to find out what was wrong.  I feel lucky to have grown up in a family where I felt like I could trust my parents.  When I opened up and told him what was happening, he went straight to the school.  He spoke with the Principal, who initially, according to my dad, wanted to be pretty lenient about the fact that this group of boys had preyed up three new female students.  Let's be blunt about it.  It was sexual harassment and the school had the responsibility to protect its student. Police officers came into the classrooms and pulled the boys out of class.  And, from then, I am not 100% sure what happened.  But, those boys never bothered us again.  

My high school years were great.  I played softball, volleyball, was the yearbook co-editor, did the morning announcements and took 3 AP classes.  I can recall even today walking down the hall and always seeing these same cliques, these closed circles in the hallways every day.  And, it always kinda bothered me how each circle would have the same exact people.  I can't really recall ever really being in a clique.  I was raised to be nice and respectful to everyone, I waived and acknowledged everyone. I had two major crushes on the mysterious loner types who sat and read books under a tree at lunch.  The worst of the bullying was being called "Bald Eagle" because one kid found my forehead too high.  The same kid called and left a message on our home phone as a prank, "Kim you left your panties at my house.  Through caller ID, my dad had a pretty intense conversation with the guy, and I believe that was the last prank call that came into our household.

So, I'd like to say the bullying stopped there, but it didn't.  Most of my adult life I've been bullied.  I'm a single female, so I've had to be my own advocate.  The difference in my adult life is I have a lot more choices.  Like for instance, school was mandatory, but relationships and jobs are never mandatory.  I can walk away.  Most importantly, I've learned to protect my energies as an empath beacause bullies are just a fact of life.  Manipulation is most common and is a passive aggressive bullying.  The only way you can become a target is by having no goals in life.  There are so many types of bullying, really.  I learned the art of setting boundaries a few years back, and it's been a game changer for me.  It's the most important part of self love and armoring up against bullying.

 Back to the movie from last night, the main character continues to be bullied even into adulthood by the parents, the administration, even his students.  And, I think may of us who experienced the bullying in our youth can attest that these same bullies are bullies even into adulthood.   Although the main character goes to some major extreme and illegal lengths to protect his students, I strongly think this movie should be shown in schools.  It just shows the snowballing effects of bullying.  Some kids bounce back to live perfectly healthy lives.  Some kids live with anxiety later on as adults.  Some kids end their story through suicide.  Some kids go and shoot up a school.   I feel for kids these days because of the internet and social media.  At lease back in my dad, my home was my recluse.  Nowadays, the bullying can come straight into your bedroom and phone.   

 A friend of mine called the other night .  She said, "You have always been an inspiration to me, and you know why?  Because you don't take shit.  No I mean it, you don't take shit from anybody!  And, I've always admired that about you"  And, it caused some slight pause.  I guess to experienced mostly bad consequences from advocating for yourself, it came as a shock that something positive came from it to help others.  And, I said to my friend, "you know what?  I don't take shit, you're right about that, BUT that doesn't make my life easy trust me!"  In fact, for all of my thirties I lived in a community that praised strong women publicly.  There were so may women owned small businesses.  Yet, time after time, every time I advocated or stood up for myself, I paid a heavy price for it.  The point is, I'm thankful for the journey.  

Were you bullied?  How did you handle it?  Do you still have issues that stem from the bullying you endured?  Have you journaled about it and released it?  Do you ever wish years later to confront or talk to the people who tried to destroy you?