Monday, September 26, 2011

Bullying

So the Toronto Star asked people for their stories with respect to bullying as a young person. Were you bullied as a child, or were you a bully? I think everyone has their own interpretation of how the world worked when they were younger. Here's how I remember it.

When I was in grade 7, I was given the nickname "Beer Belly". I had been a regularly scrawny kid up til then, and had never thought about healthy eating. I knew that cookies tasted good, and fruits and vegetables were the things you were obligated to eat, and who wants that? So there I was, turning 11 and getting a bit fat. And Todd* decided I looked like I had a beer belly. And since Todd was afraid of no one, we were afraid of Todd. And who's kidding who, if I'm the one being singled out, everyone else is safe.

So the cool kids grabbed on to that nickname like grim death. I was "beer belly", or just "beer" when someone was being informal. Every day. Not to my friends, but they weren't the cool kids either. It didn't help that I was also a pretty shy kid, so I didn't have a lot of friends anyway. I was introverted and into Star Wars and Dungeons and Dragons. Thinking about it now, there was a lot of controversy at the time about a kid who had played Dungeons and Dragons who had killed himself. I wonder now if the media would have looked for the kids who bullied him. 'Cause you just know that they would have been there.

Just like me. Beer Belly, beer-bell, beer. I remember one time I was in my grade 8 class, and Mr. Ross was giving a lesson on how to be a grown-up. I didn't realize that's what it was at the time, but I understand that now. He was telling us about how advertising will emphasize the good in a product, and leave out the bad. His analogy was the beer industry. I remember he said how the beer commercials always show athletes and healthy people with their beer, but they never show the "beer bellies". And the class started laughing and pointing at me. And the best I could do was look like I wasn't crying. Not only was everyone laughing at me, but the teacher was using my hated nickname. Although he seemed kind of confused about what was going on with that, so I think he didn't know that I had that nickname.

At the time, I knew I didn't like it, but I did have other things to get me through. I had a good home life, I knew my parents loved me, and I had big brothers who probably would have beaten up Todd if it had occurred to me to ask. So I was bullied, but I made it through. And 30 or so years later, I still have some emotional scars from it, but I'm okay now.



*people normally change names in stories like this, but not me. His name was Todd Baziliwich. And he was an asshole. I remember one time he stopped me on the street and asked me if I had any money. I'm sure that if I hadn't lied and said no, he would have taken it from me. But I lied, and he believed me. So fuck you Todd: I'd been collecting for my paper route that day. I'd probably had 20 or 30 bucks on me.

Anyway, Todd Baziliwich, Aldo Collarille, and Andre Kruk. There were more of you, but you're the ones whose names I remember. Go fuck yourselves. I'm not afraid of you anymore.