Bullying and righteousness.

I was thinking about bullying. No, I wasn’t planning on becoming a bully, I was contemplating bullying as a practice and how it has affected me. I was struck with the concept that, perhaps, bullying may have made me a stronger person. I bounced back and forth over the idea a few times, and came to the conclusion that although I believe the lessons learned from standing UP to bullies is one I prize, I could have done without the ridicule, self-esteem-crushing ostracization, and the lingering fear of laughter. Yes, I have a fear of laughter.
Let me explain.
Imagine you are in a cafeteria, say at a hospital, workplace, or anywhere that there are groups of people sitting together. You walk with your tray to sit alone at a table, simply because you don’t really know anyone who is already seated. Just as you pass a table of those whom you are only passably familiar, their whispering erupts into giggles and guffaws.
If you’re me, you naturally assume that they are talking and laughing about you. Who else could they have been talking about? “Hey, look at that fat, bald guy!” This insecurity is quickly overcome, but the ability to squash it only came after years of training myself that laughter is a GOOD thing, even if I’m not a part of it. (I still prefer to be the cause of it, even if I have to put on women’s clothing: “Hey, look at that fat, bald chick!”)
When I was a kid, I was bullied without mercy. I like to think that it was because I was such a free spirit and kids just didn’t understand me. Nope, I was just a fat kid. At the time, I would have done anything to avoid feeling so lost and alone. Everything, that is, except stand up for myself. In the moment, I was terrified. I remember that feeling, that moment where I am no longer a person but an object, subject to the whims of someone who just happens to be bigger, meaner, and, well, thinner. I spent a lot of time in that moment. It’s an experience I can look back on and make sure that it never, EVER happens again. I wish someone had taken me aside and told me that the reason I was being abused was so that I had the opportunity to stand up for myself. Or, barring that, told me it was OK to fight. Or, barring that, that it was OK to pound a bully until he screamed for his mommy. I never got that. Instead, I had a mom that screamed: “I hear of you fighting in school, I’ll blister your behind!”
Today, I know how to take the power away from a bully. I know how to win in the unwinnable situations. Like I said, I really, REALLY wish there had been another way, but that lesson was driven so deep into my personality that I’m actually thankful for it. The most important lesson I learned was mercy. When I see someone who is weak or in pain, I immediately want to help, even if it is someone who deserved the pain they brought upon themselves, even if that person is a bully. Yeah, I said it.
Gandhi said: “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.” I heard (or, perhaps, thought I heard) a different version of this: “Mercy is the penchant of the strong.” It’s true. The weak do not have the opportunity to show mercy. Only the strong have that option. When I go back to that moment when I was surrounded by kids who were poking, prodding, slapping, punching, flicking, and laughing, I know that I would never want to make someone feel that way. Some may feel that the act of not pressing the advantage is letting someone off easy. I disagree. Only by showing someone that you have complete control, not only control over the situation but also control over yourself, can you show them a better way. Only in this manner can you be BETTER than the bully. To succumb to your baser desires is to become what you despise. When I see those faces surrounding me (and, yes, I can still see them), I could not imagine mine being one of them. I do think about revenge, sometimes. Like knocking on doors and saying, “Remember me? Gym class? Seventh Grade? Fuck you!” Well, you may think that turning the tables would make me feel better. It doesn’t. (It’s a long story that involves knocking on a door and going home sick to my stomach over what I’d done.)
I deal with people all the time who feel the need to mock or knock others down in order for themselves to feel better. I pity them. It’s like having a ladder in front of you, reaching all the way to heaven, and choosing to climb just high enough to look down on others. That’s just petty. Keep climbing. The higher one climbs, the less the petty slings and arrows of the weak and small-minded can hurt. Everyone is deserving of mercy, including the irredeemable.
That’s not to say that we, as a society, should let rapists and dog-fighting-gangsters off the hook. But, that’s society’s call, not mine. As an individual, I will not be the one dispensing punishment or going any farther than I have to in order to protect myself or my loved ones. (I’ll still shoot AT them, though.)
How could one possibly learn this lesson without having been in the situations I was in? Is it just arrogance that makes me believe that I am a product of what I’ve endured? Anyone can look back at things that they have gotten through and claim it as an accomplishment. “I puked for four days!” There is a danger in declaring that one’s life can be compared to another’s.
I’ve heard people say things like, “Nobody ever gave me a handout!” Typically, 99% of the time, this is untrue. Were you born into poverty, or did your family have an income? Did you have at least one parent? If so, then you received many a “handout” from your loving family. Also, did you pay to go to school? Or, were you born in the US where education is free and it was “handed” to you? Well, let’s assume that it’s true that nobody ever gave you a handout. Be that as it may, can you find it in your heart to have mercy upon one who may need it? Can you be strong enough to let an injustice be done so that somebody can have it “better” than you did? Or, are you so selfish and immature that you would prefer to bully the weak?
All I have to do to keep someone from comparing his life with another’s is to ask if he/she wants to trade lives with that person. Most people are pretty quick to say, “Hell, no!” Why not? If you’re so much better at it, it won’t be long before you’re on top and that person is back on the bottom, right? “I don’t want to lose everything I’ve worked for!” Yeah, the things you gained because you had a mind that could think, two hands to work with, and good enough health to go to work every day. Which one of those could I take away from you at, say, age 7? But, now I’m getting off topic . . .
What I’m trying to say is that I’m a product of bullying. But, is it something I should be proud of? Should I lament it? Should I look at the bullied kids, today, and say, “I had to put up with it, so should you? Now get your head back in that toilet!”
I say, “no.”
Instead, I will be merciful. I will not suffer those who would ridicule and belittle my fellow man, regardless of whether or not the lessons I learned at the hands of vicious children can be learned without them. I will keep climbing the ladder. I will try hard to give others the self esteem to stand up for themselves. I will also kick a bully square in the ass, uh, metaphorically, and then help him to find the self esteem to accept others.
Keep climbing.

PS - Gandhi also said: “I believe in equality for everyone, except reporters and photographers.” What a card, that Gandhi!