I, Bully
My experience bullying others throughout my childhood.
Back in 1998, a group of doctors from Kaiser San Diego and the CDC began a study on how adverse childhood experiences, or ACE’s, affect the future health and wellbeing of the children who experience them. The study’s working thesis was that traumatic experiences do indeed negatively affect a child’s neuro-development and put him/her at increased risk for major health problems as an adult.
The study was a huge success, and its results entered mainstream conversation with urgency and vim. Here are the top three findings, which I take straight from Wikipedia:
ACE’s are common - 66% of survey participants reported at least 1
ACE’s often occur together - 40% reported 2 or more
ACE’s have a “dose-specific,” graded relationship with other health problems, meaning the higher the amount of ACE’s, the higher the amount of health and behavioral problems into adulthood.
For example, compared to an ACE score of 0:
ACE 4 = 700% increased risk of alcoholism, 200% increased risk of cancer, 400% increased risk of emphysema
ACE 6 = 3000% increase in attempted suicide
We can thank the study for what is now known as the ACE Quiz, a series of 10 questions that serves as a screening for health providers to better understand their patients on all levels. It is also used regularly outside medicine, such as in education and social services.1
I myself score an 8 out of 10 on the quiz.
I share this not only to give some background as to the main point of this post, but also to remind myself as I write of how definitive the dysfunction around me was as a child. Why “definitive?” Because when you experience abuse as a child, you have no other way of understanding it than to blame yourself and believe that you are at fault for all the things that have ever gone wrong. Our little brains cannot recognize behavioral cause and effect the way healthy adults can.
But how on earth can a child think that the abuse was their fault, you ask? Well, it’s actually very easy, and one of the reasons why it is so hard to move past it. Not only does the child have to sustain the abuse, he/she also must also continue to grow up as it is happening. Without proper care and understanding, it’s not long before their identity and behavior are controlled by the thing they wish never happened. Again, the child is just trying to survive.2
It took a long time for me to even begin relieving myself of this burden of fault. It became the part of me that never wanted to take a hand up, wanted to prove myself by myself, and always take the blame whenever I was involved in anything. It didn’t matter how much work this took; if anything, I thought the extra work guaranteed my safety from blame. I found release in overworking myself. I also became severely judgmental of others, heavily critical and even punitive. I could never let myself or others off the hook, as that could possibly mean that I’m not the one in control of my life. And if *I’m* not in control, as the 8/10 score might show, *no one* around me is.
Luckily, I have largely moved on from that way of thinking about the past. Thank goodness! For example, when I find myself still wondering things like, Why was it I never asked for help again? I realize that it wasn’t so much that I was inordinately stubborn or that I arrogantly thought I was smarter than everyone else. It was likely because I was slapped, demeaned and/or verbally threatened by the “stupidity” behind my questions, and I learned over time to just not ask them. Or, Why was it that I wanted to prove myself on my own? Maybe it wasn’t because I was an incorrigible narcissist or never learned to be a team player because I was just so bad at sports, but because I rarely experienced someone proving themself when I needed them.
And the self-blame? This for sure was simply in the name of expediency. As no one else was going to take responsibility, I might as well take it myself and figure it out from there. To this day, my deepest stress usually comes from the fear that I’ve done something wrong.
Suffice it to say, before I learned to move on from blame, I had my fair share of behavior issues starting in elementary school. It began simply enough with lying to my teachers about my homework, or stealing things from the Lost and Found. I took it up a notch in 4th grade when I tried to get other kids in trouble by writing swear words on their desks, or having semi-frequent run-ins with the other boy bullies. I often had to be placed in separate classrooms from the violent ones.
On the flip side, I was also somewhat smart in terms of academics. Thus I would often get chosen to do something out of the ordinary with other smart kids (like learn a new computer program), but then get sent back to my class for my poor behavior. Or, get praised by one teacher who didn’t know I was troublesome for something like eagerly participating in class, but scolded by my homeroom teacher for doing the same thing. I remember that our school principal in particular loathed me, and was very annoyed when she found out that she had to drive me of all kids to the spelling bee.
The trouble was, I had no idea what I was doing to get me into so much trouble, and no one took the time to explain it to me. Or rather, I knew it was wrong to steal, etc., but I didn’t know *why* I was doing something I knew would get me into trouble.3
Then came junior high. Similar story as before, except that instead of picking on the boy ruffians, I began picking on other girls (i.e., mean girling). I was vicious in my criticisms of other girls’ clothes, makeup and behavior, and even prank called one girl over and over again. And I would do this to my friends as well as to the girls I didn’t like.
I kept having some success academically, but again, not without a lot of trips to the counselor’s office. However my jr. high counselor was different from my elementary school principal; he actually rarely brought up my poor behavior, and instead asked me questions about my life and my friends and even checked in with me during the day between classes.
The counselor continued to do this even when I started bullying a boy in earnest. I don’t know what it was about this boy that I disliked so much; it’s possible that he was just there, and slightly vulnerable being a grade younger than me. But I began to seek out every opportunity to make fun of him and keep him from joining my friend group in class. It got so bad that he came up to me one day and said, “Can you just leave me alone?” I was shocked and did not know what to say. I think *he* was shocked by my silence, and then just walked away. It was a classic anti-bullying tactic, and I, Bully, fell for it.
I don’t think I ever spoke to the kid again. He may have moved away or transferred to another school, but I never knew the reason why. I forgot about it until years later in therapy, and then started to looking for him online in earnest so that I could apologize. Nothing ever came from my efforts, but I still think about him from time to time.
I wish I hadn’t treated so many people so poorly in the past. I wish even more that I had someone who would have explained why my behavior was so unacceptable. I don’t know that I would have been able to hear them at all, or if I would have changed my behavior. But it may have helped.
My experiences have of course made me a more vigilant parent. At this point, my own kids and their immediate circles are unlikely to push the boundaries in this way, but I’m pretty vigilant in terms of watching out for bullying-type behavior around them. I was very alarmed when one kid in particular was being boxed out of playdates, etc. because she was saying rude and racist things, and because her parents would just leave her stranded at places without any word of their whereabouts.
I knew pretty quickly that this kid’s poor behavior was simply a repeat of what she saw at home. Yet taking her out of her community would likely exacerbate the problem. Again, children do not yet have a way of understanding the *causes* of their behaviors (hence terms like “hangry,” even for adults). They are simply reacting to their circumstances at hand, and doing the best they can to survive with them. And though I’m not a psychologist, I’m pretty sure that all behavior is learned. If a kid is screaming advanced racial epithets on the playground in the third grade, it’s likely that he or she has heard his own parents screaming the same when they’re angry or afraid. Or hungry.
So what to do when you have a bully in your midst? For your kids, it’s simple: Safety first. Stay away from the bully and that will do wonders. Maybe not run away or cower in fear, just don’t hang with them. Second, if you have to be around them, stand your ground. Be clear with your “No.” Third, tell an adult that you trust and he/she can make the right moves for the situation. Trust your gut to take you to the next step, even if it means you have to find yet another adult to speak with.4
As for adults: Be the adult by protecting *both* your child and the bully, and take steps to make sure the behavior stops. We are the only ones with real power in this situation, and we need to show our kids how to respectfully engage with those who are not behaving fairly. The bullied kid of course needs to know that what is happening to them is not their fault. Remember, he/she cannot help but thing it’s his fault, especially if it keeps repeating, so the priority is to make sure it stops.
The bully also needs to know that that they’re not a bad kid for *behaving* badly. The bad behavior is what needs to be stopped, not *them.*
Let’s take the example of your child having been called a racist name on the playground, as its closest to the situations I’ve had to deal with personally as a parent. This is how I would respond:
Coach your child into standing up for himself. This can be hard to do, especially if you have a very sensitive child, but it’s important. If the behavior continues -
Speak to the bully’s parents 1:1, in private and away from the grapevine. If they don’t respond by taking responsibility for their child’s behavior and taking steps to make ensure it does not happen again -
Bring someone else from the community they respect with you and try again. If that doesn’t work -
Talk to the child’s teacher. If he/she doesn’t take responsibility for their students’ behavior and take steps to *skillfully* educate the rest of the class on what is and is not acceptable at school -
Speak to the principal. If he/she doesn’t take responsibility for their students’ behavior and take steps to *skillfully* educate the rest of the school on what is and is not acceptable at school -
Speak to the superintendent. If he/she doesn’t take responsibility for their students’ behavior and take steps to *skillfully* educate the rest of the district on what is and is not acceptable at school -
Call the local paper and share your story. You will be surprised at how much support you will get. It is the community’s responsibility to ensure our children’s safety and to hold our leaders accountable.
Do everything you can to protect your child from the potential brouhaha by not speaking about this in front of them, and again, doing everything away from the grapevine.
Obviously, every situation has nuances and the age of the children is important. But whatever you do, at any age, DO NOT CIRCUMVENT THE BULLY’S PARENT. They are the ones who need to know how their kid’s behavior is hurting other kids in school. If that doesn’t bother them, then you know at least know that they may not be the kind of folks you want your kids around at this time. And remember, the behavior will likely only get worse as the kids get older and have bigger toys to play with such as cars and fertility.
Lastly, KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR THE BULLY. Don’t go out of your way or anything, but if he or she is around, make sure there’s an adult there. Set boundaries if he is breaking them. Set yourself up as a trusted authority that any of the kids can turn to in trouble. Children at large need us to be paying a lot more attention that we think.
And remember, all children are just that—kids. Childhood used to be a time when they were allowed to grow, get scraped up and throw a few punches. And there would be adults around who said, “Son,” or “Sweetie pie,” and set them straight.5 The world is very different now, but children, at their core, are not. Even the bullies.
Thank you for visiting.
One of the ACE study’s greatest advocates is a woman named Dr. Nadine Burke Harris. Dr. Harris has given a ton of interviews on almost every platform, but I recommend this one because of the quality of her interlocutor, Michael Krasny of KQED’s “Forum.” Mr. Krasny has unfortunately since retired, which I sometimes think might be one of the reasons why SF has suffered so much since Covid. He was like the judge, jury and executioner of the city, discussing every one of SF’s issues with a guest Monday - Thursday from 9 - 11 am—that’s a lot of time! And he did this with such Zen. I don’t remember any fights on “Forum,” just lots of good memories like when he called out celebrated food writer Michael Pollan’s “famous humility.” Yo’ face, Michael P., you extraordinary human! And more. I just can’t imagine that SF’s parents wouldn’t have caught onto the dystopia of SFUSD should Krasny have interviewed any of the school board members in earnest during the early Covid years.
One example I read about in Body Keeps the Score that illustrates this fact is the prevalence of obesity among women who were sexually abused as children. Many have come forward to say that they intentionally make themselves unattractive as to protect them from unwanted sexual advances. The instinct to self-protect is wonderful, but the manner can cause them even more harm. Breaks my heart.
I like to think that the new fangled restorative justice programs that my own kids have had since kindergarten would have worked a bit better for me and my “bad” kid cohort.
I think this happens a lot more than you would think, even for us adults.
I understand why we don’t use those terms anymore, but I’m not sure if we’ve found anything else that would signify that “I’m an adult, I’m calling you ‘son’ because your well-being is as important to me as my own flesh and blood.”