When push comes to shove

Bullies. Like most of you, I’ve been the victim and I’ve been the aggressor. When I was a kid, bullying most often happened in the school yard or on the playground. If you complained to a grownup about it, you were called a tattletale and told, “life ain’t easy” or to “suck it up, buttercup” or “kids will be kids”. Our teachers told us to ignore it because “sticks and stones will break your bones, but names will never hurt you.” When the bullying was physical, we were told it was time to learn to defend yourself and not to be afraid to fight back. Sometimes we came out swinging and swearing, and sometimes we just buried the hurt. As a kid, I thought bullying would end when I got to high school. It didn’t. When I was a teenager, I thought it would end when I finished school and got a job. It didn’t. I found out that workplace bullying was a cunning art form. There was a bully in every department, and you found a way to deal with it or you moved along. And now? Well, now I don’t go to school and I work at home. I never really expected to see much bullying in my retired life. And then I did. Right there in my everyday retired life I saw it happen.

Last week, I witnessed an older person bullying a much younger person. At first I didn’t realize what was going on. By the time I figured it out, it was over. The reality left me shaken. I spent the next two days upset and stressed. If I were that upset, I can’t even imagine what the young person must have felt while it was happening—the verbal assault. I wished I’d been more aware of the situation as it was happening, and able to step in stop the bullying. But, if you know me—and many of you do—you know I really don’t have any internal wordfilter when I’m upset or shocked. It was probably a good thing I was clueless for that moment, otherwise it could have become a really loud and ugly sight. The bully probably would have felt the shoe had been put on the other foot. The real shock to me was this bully is a person I thought I knew. While she and I aren’t bosom buddies we’d often talked about the joys of being retired, travelling and cooking. I am now convinced I must have missed something in our chats. Now I know, for certain, we’ll have one more chat, and it won’t be about travelling or food or being retired. I owe it to the kid.

In the not-too-distant past, I wished someone had stepped in to help when I was being bullied at work. I know I didn’t handle the situation very well—damn my feeble word-filters. A bully needs to know their behaviour isn’t appropriate. Like a lot of aggressive or heated situations, it’s hard to deal with the actual matter without getting bogged down in what might have precipitated the bullying. I have promised myself I will let last week’s bully know how I feel. Bullying has a negative impact on everyone—the target, the bully and the bystanders. I’m not going to let this pass.

theresa@wellingtontimes.ca