The Impact of Bullying

This is a paper I wrote for Psychology class when I was studying to become a Medical Assistant in 2012. The professor loved it, and since bullying was and remains an important subject to me, I am taking the opportunity to share it here. My teacher friend shared a story about a bullying situation in her school this morning, which reminded me I have this piece to share. I just cringe when I hear bullying being talked about, because it's so destructive and unnecessary.

Here it is:

Bullying is a subject that is gaining more and more attention in today’s popular media. It’s about time. What was often formerly dismissed innocuously as “kids being kids—they can be so mean to each other” (I wish I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that), is now being taken more seriously by parents and educators alike. More attention is being given to recognizing bullying when it is happening and taking appropriate actions in order to prevent the serious psychological and other consequences that it causes. The forms that bullying takes, and its short- and long-term impacts, will be the subject of this paper. This is a very personal subject for me, because the fact of being picked on and ridiculed as a young person has had a serious material impact on the quality of my adult life. In other words, I am still dealing with the issues, and expect to still be doing so for a very long time, maybe my entire life. In this paper I will deal with childhood bullying, but make no mistake, it does not automatically end when people turn 18. It happens to adults, too, but it is beyond the scope of this paper to deal with that now.

This is a very personal subject for me. I was bullied from about the time my family moved from Burlington, MA to Billerica, MA in April of my kindergarten year, the 1973-74 school year, until I was taken out of the public school system to attend the Sant Bani School in Sanbornton, NH after my one year in the local public high school, Winnisquam, in the fall of 1983. This bullying took a wide variety of forms: in Billerica, rocks were thrown at me at the bus stop; I was frequently picked on because of my name. In those days I  went by my middle name, Leslie, which was ridiculed as a girl’s name. It did not get any better when I switched over to Alex. Upon moving to New Hampshire and being introduced at my new school, Alex became “Alice” to one notorious bully, who I had a fistfight with a couple of years later. My last name was not free from notice, either. If it was not “Leslie is a girl’s name,” it was Flintstone, Deadstone, Bedrock, Dr. Livingstone, I presume (I still hear that one!) etc. I could not win. People will pick out anything they perceive as “different,” and they will not let you forget about it.

            The move from Burlington to Billerica was not a good one. In Burlington I had been in an open-concept classroom where I felt free to move around. I had friends, even a best friend who lived across the hall from us in our apartment building, and I have nothing but positive memories of those times. In Billerica, however, they had us sitting behind desks, and I apparently did not deal well with that, though I do not have any really specific memories of those couple of months at the end of that school year. I do know that something changed, however. One thing I do recall from my first or second grade year is that I had a good friend who happened to be a girl, by the name of Ginger Meek. I think she was in my first-grade class, and I even remember going over to her house, but I remember that being a source of ridicule, too, because boys that age are not supposed to talk to or like girls. I find it kind of funny that later in life I have all kinds of trouble finding and then keeping adult relationships with women, but I had a girlfriend in the first grade. I think her family moved away first—I seem to remember being sad because of it. After moving away to New Hampshire in the fall of 1978, I also lost contact with my best friend from Burlington, Joey Ambarik. I did not have another best friend my age until 1991, when I began attending Plymouth State College full time. I always had more relatedness with the adults.

            Mostly as a result of the treatment I received, I pretty much became a loner. I say “mostly” because I think there were a couple of other factors at work. One, when I was very young, so my Mom tells me, I was not allowed to play with the other little kids who were around—I may have been overprotected. Also, I did not have the advantage of nursery school, which my younger brother, who has had far fewer problems (in my estimation) did. I also started first grade about 5 weeks before I turned six, which I think would not happen today—I would have started a year later. Anyway, because I kept away from the other kids, either by choice or by being excluded, I did not develop the social skills I needed to have the success, both financial and otherwise, that I thought I should have. I have always had a brilliant mind, although my grades did not always show it, but it’s the way I dealt, and sometimes still deal, with people that has kept me from the advancement that I crave. Still I overreact to a perceived slight, even though by now I think I should know better.

            So what are some of the signs and symptoms that a child is being bullied? I think I have alluded to the major ones: slow social development and poor performance in school. In my case learning was happening—one year I needed to get an 88 on the final to pass English; I got a 96, which is still remembered by that teacher, Miss Blinn. Unfortunately, the adults have so many kids to watch, and it can be really difficult to see what is really happening, especially outside of school and with the advent of cell phones, Facebook, text messaging, etc.

            What can be done about bullying? Awareness of what bullying looks like has to be the first step, so that adults can intervene at an appropriate time, rather than waiting until it is too late. People have to keep talking about this issue and about the possible consequences of nothing being done. In my case, my Mom consistently went to the school administration to try to get them to do something, but they would not. In fact, I was often the one who got into trouble for retaliating when I could not take it any longer. Everyone has to be really vigilant, instead of sweeping the problem under the rug. Personally, I do not necessarily advocate severe punishment for bullies, though sometimes it is probably appropriate. Rather, every incident should be viewed as an opportunity for education about the long-term impacts on both parties. It is really costly. Often the person being bullied is the one who is brilliant, the one who stands out.

What is lost? My spiritual teacher, the founder of the Sant Bani School, said that we have something to learn from everyone, and that no one exists for nothing. I believe this wholeheartedly. What we cost ourselves when we push somebody around is the opportunity to ever have a real, trusting relationship with that person, and vice-versa. Great as either the bully or I might be, we will not get to experience that greatness. It is hard to describe what that might be like because we have never experienced it. In other words, bullying costs us life itself, because we do not get to experience everything that life has to offer.