Gabriel, a 9-year-old purple belt, became Tao of Texas Martial Arts’s newest Junior Leader today. As part of meeting all the requirements for this coveted position, he carefully and thoughtfully wrote the following essay on what makes a good leader:
“A leader shows a good example to other people. A leader helps people to achieve goals. A leader incourages people to do the right thing.
“A leader corrects you when you’re doing something wrong. A leader motivates you when you are discouraged. A leader shouldn’t discourage you. A leader should be very calm and polite. A leader corrects people very nicely.
“A leader tells people what to do very clearly. A leader does not critisize people. A leader does not lie to people. A leader does not cheat nor does he tell his students to cheat either.”
One word: WOW.
Gabriel's essay made me think of the many masters I've worked with over the years who sadly did not live up to the last two lines. It also made me wish the concepts he mentioned in his essay were standard operating procedures for Austin and Washington lawmakers.
This young man has a good head on his shoulders, a good heart in his body, and a brave, compassionate soul.
We need more young men like Gabriel walking this earth.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
'Twas the Night Before Kung Fu...
New words to a holiday classic
‘Twas the night before Kung Fu, when all through the house
A creature was stirring, and it wasn’t a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
And, big surprise, a burglar decided to start there.
My children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sparring matches danced in their heads.
And mamma in her dobok, and I in my gi,
Crept down the stairs to surprise the bad-guy would-be.
When out in the living room there rose such a clatter,
I sprang from the hallway, prepared for blood splatter.
Toward the burglar I charged like a flash,
I hit and hit him. I literally kicked his a--.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave luster to his bruised cheeks from blow after blow.
When, what to my overwhelmed eyes should appear,
But a switchblade knife—pointed at me, “Oh dear!”
With my trusty Kung Fu, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment: “Don’t let that knife stick.”
More rapid than eagles his attacks, they came.
And he grunted, and shouted, and called me bad names!
“Get out of my way, or I’ll hurt you, old man!
“This isn’t the time to be a UFC fan!
“I’ll slice you real bad; I’ll throw you against the wall!
“Now get away! Back off! Before I cut you all!”
And then, in a twinkling, I remembered my form
A punch and a tiger claw—and I was reborn.
As I drew in my leg and threw out a kick,
Down to the floor the man went—and now he looked sick.
His eyes—how they dazed! His nose—how it bled!
His cheeks were all swollen! He had a cut on his head!
He drooled from the mouth and was curled up in a ball,
And the shock on his face told me: That was all.
The stump of a knife he held tight in his teeth,
And a bandana encircled his head like a wreath.
In the blink of an eye, he climbed out the window,
And on the lawn he fell in a noisy crescendo.
He ran to his car, to his Homies he whistled,
And away they all drove like an Iranian-bound missile.
But I heard him exclaim, as they screeched out of sight,
“You Kung Fu guys are crazy. But, man, can you fight!”
‘Twas the night before Kung Fu, when all through the house
A creature was stirring, and it wasn’t a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
And, big surprise, a burglar decided to start there.
My children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sparring matches danced in their heads.
And mamma in her dobok, and I in my gi,
Crept down the stairs to surprise the bad-guy would-be.
When out in the living room there rose such a clatter,
I sprang from the hallway, prepared for blood splatter.
Toward the burglar I charged like a flash,
I hit and hit him. I literally kicked his a--.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave luster to his bruised cheeks from blow after blow.
When, what to my overwhelmed eyes should appear,
But a switchblade knife—pointed at me, “Oh dear!”
With my trusty Kung Fu, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment: “Don’t let that knife stick.”
More rapid than eagles his attacks, they came.
And he grunted, and shouted, and called me bad names!
“Get out of my way, or I’ll hurt you, old man!
“This isn’t the time to be a UFC fan!
“I’ll slice you real bad; I’ll throw you against the wall!
“Now get away! Back off! Before I cut you all!”
And then, in a twinkling, I remembered my form
A punch and a tiger claw—and I was reborn.
As I drew in my leg and threw out a kick,
Down to the floor the man went—and now he looked sick.
His eyes—how they dazed! His nose—how it bled!
His cheeks were all swollen! He had a cut on his head!
He drooled from the mouth and was curled up in a ball,
And the shock on his face told me: That was all.
The stump of a knife he held tight in his teeth,
And a bandana encircled his head like a wreath.
In the blink of an eye, he climbed out the window,
And on the lawn he fell in a noisy crescendo.
He ran to his car, to his Homies he whistled,
And away they all drove like an Iranian-bound missile.
But I heard him exclaim, as they screeched out of sight,
“You Kung Fu guys are crazy. But, man, can you fight!”
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Learning That Playful Hitting is Still Hitting
I snipped off a red Spirit stripe from the white belt of a promising young student last week because he popped his elementary school buddy in the stomach too hard. Both students agreed they were playing, and that the hitting just got out of hand.
Still, this athletically gifted, quick-study 9-year-old had read and signed Tao of Texas Martial Arts Institute’s Code of Conduct, which clearly states in boldface: CAUTION: Do not misuse the skills you learn in the dojang; use them only in real self-defense situations.”
There’s a reason that rule is there: I’m teaching young students to use their hands and feet as weapons that can hurt others. I’ve got to know they have enough self-control to not misuse their skills on a whim.
It’s truly hard to teach martial arts to children. One of the biggest reasons is because martial artists have to hold themselves up to a higher standard, and that means there are a lot of things that normal, everyday people of all ages can do that we cannot.
Like playing a rather innocent round of “Slug Bug.”
From time to time, I still grieve the fact that slug bug—a traffic game in which friends playfully punch each other in the arm the second they see a Volkswagen beetle roll by—is a luxury I can no longer afford.
After 18 years in the martial arts, I can knock someone into next week with my fist. That’s a wee bit too hard.
And honestly, if I expect my young students to respect the “no horseplay” and “no using Taekwondo outside class unless your life is in danger” rules, I can’t play this game ever again on principle. I must set the example.
I understand that no matter the intensity or intent, hitting is unacceptable. Still, it’s a hard concept for my white belt student to wrap his head around.
“But I didn’t hit him hard,” he said. “I didn’t know that was a Taekwondo strike.”
He showed me how he hit his classmate, demonstrating a knifehand side strike.
“That’s a Taekwondo strike,” I replied. “I’m teaching you how to use your hands and fists as weapons, so you can’t hit others. Period.”
“Do you understand?” I finally said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
Maybe not.
My young white belt has not returned to class.
In a martial arts teacher’s life, you win some (students/lessons/competitions) and you lose some. I’ve had to confront many other students regarding “playful” hitting, and most have come back to train and try again. The students who stick around—the ones who see the benefit of Taekwondo despite a self-control setback—always become stronger and more respectful, responsible, and confident young men and women in the end.
Will my young student take this lesson to heart and return to continue practicing our way of life?
More will be revealed.
Still, this athletically gifted, quick-study 9-year-old had read and signed Tao of Texas Martial Arts Institute’s Code of Conduct, which clearly states in boldface: CAUTION: Do not misuse the skills you learn in the dojang; use them only in real self-defense situations.”
There’s a reason that rule is there: I’m teaching young students to use their hands and feet as weapons that can hurt others. I’ve got to know they have enough self-control to not misuse their skills on a whim.
It’s truly hard to teach martial arts to children. One of the biggest reasons is because martial artists have to hold themselves up to a higher standard, and that means there are a lot of things that normal, everyday people of all ages can do that we cannot.
Like playing a rather innocent round of “Slug Bug.”
From time to time, I still grieve the fact that slug bug—a traffic game in which friends playfully punch each other in the arm the second they see a Volkswagen beetle roll by—is a luxury I can no longer afford.
After 18 years in the martial arts, I can knock someone into next week with my fist. That’s a wee bit too hard.
And honestly, if I expect my young students to respect the “no horseplay” and “no using Taekwondo outside class unless your life is in danger” rules, I can’t play this game ever again on principle. I must set the example.
I understand that no matter the intensity or intent, hitting is unacceptable. Still, it’s a hard concept for my white belt student to wrap his head around.
“But I didn’t hit him hard,” he said. “I didn’t know that was a Taekwondo strike.”
He showed me how he hit his classmate, demonstrating a knifehand side strike.
“That’s a Taekwondo strike,” I replied. “I’m teaching you how to use your hands and fists as weapons, so you can’t hit others. Period.”
“Do you understand?” I finally said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
Maybe not.
My young white belt has not returned to class.
In a martial arts teacher’s life, you win some (students/lessons/competitions) and you lose some. I’ve had to confront many other students regarding “playful” hitting, and most have come back to train and try again. The students who stick around—the ones who see the benefit of Taekwondo despite a self-control setback—always become stronger and more respectful, responsible, and confident young men and women in the end.
Will my young student take this lesson to heart and return to continue practicing our way of life?
More will be revealed.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
10 Strategies to Deal with Bullies
[Part 6 in a series]
Oftentimes it takes a combination of actions to stop bullying. Below are tips I give my martial arts students to help deal with such situations.
1. Don’t retaliate. If a bully physically strikes you in any way, don’t hit back. If a bully says mean things, don’t top that with a hurtful comment of your own. This will only escalate and feed the bully's power. Instead, tell a friend, a teacher or an adult about the person and incident.
2. Walk away. Tao of Texas Martial Arts Institute’s first rule of self-defense is to run away from dangerous situations. Walk away from anyone who makes you feel uncomfortable, whether the person is physically or verbally threatening. If the bully follows you, walk right up to a teacher—and just stand there.
3. Make a bully-buddy. One of my students recently told me that a classmate would stick his leg out to trip her as she walked by in the lunchroom. If this happens to you, find a “bully-buddy”—another student (or maybe several) to walk around with you. Bullies are less likely to target students who travel in pairs or groups. When challenged, many bullies will back down.
4. Avoid the bully. Another student recently said that she and her friend were scared of a boy who hovered around them and said hurtful things as they waited in the hallway for class. In this situation, the bully-buddy method wasn’t enough. Their solution? The girl and her friend began hanging out at a bench outside in the school courtyard; by class time, the boy was gone.
5. Think strong, stand tall. When confronted by a bully, think strong and stand tall. Imagine you are huge. Pretend you’re a super hero. Keep your chin up and shoulders back; and imagine that you’re wearing a cloak that doesn’t allow mean or hurtful words through.
6. “No! Stop!” If a classmate kicks or hits you, pulls your hair, cuts in line, or takes your possessions, say, “No! Stop!” as loud as you can, and then go tell a teacher what happened. This isn’t tattling. It’s called self-defense—and taking care of yourself.
7. Don’t believe everything you hear. Bullies love insults, and they have a way of pressuring otherwise nice classmates—even ones you thought were your friends—to laugh at you, or join in mocking gestures to try to make you feel embarrassed, uncomfortable, ashamed, and sad. Try a role-play game in which your mom or dad play the bully. Practice not believing mean things someone might say to you. Here’s an example of one I played with Peter, a smart, blond-haired, freckle-faced boy in my Taekwondo class.
“Peter, you have the most disgusting purple hair I’ve ever seen.”
He grinned. His classmates giggled.
“What are you smiling at?” I asked. “Your hair makes me want to throw up!”
He started to laugh. So did the rest of the class. “Why aren’t you upset, Peter?”
“Because it’s not true,” he said confidently. “I don’t have purple hair.”
“So what’s the difference in me saying something mean about your freckles? If you believe your freckles are beautiful, it doesn’t matter what I say. Right?”
“Right.”
“But let’s say you don’t think you’re good at math, and someone calls you
‘stupid.’ Then it hurts. Because you think it might be true.”
The class nods in silence. Some kids look down.
“The key is to know what’s true about you, and not be distracted by what’s not true. Love yourself for who you are—freckles, imperfect at math, and all. If others don’t ‘get’ you, their loss.”
8. Smile and nod. Bullies love to make you cry or see you be afraid. It’s a game for them. Don’t show that you’re hurt or scared. No matter what others say, smile and nod. It confuses bullies, and if they don’t get the reaction they seek, they’ll likely get bored and leave you alone.
9. Tell someone. It may be hard to speak up, but don’t be silent about bullies. Know that parents, teachers, and school counselors want to know about bullying, and that teachers are PAID not only to teach you math, English, science, and social studies, but also to ensure that you’re safe while in their care. It’s unfair—and can even be considered disrespectful—to not let them help you. Plus, your teachers may get in trouble with their boss, the principal, if you don’t let them help you.
10. Think outside the box. A parent told me that a bully had taken her son’s shoes one day at school and then threw them to his friends while her son chased after them. “If he takes your shoes again,” I told my student, “ask him to return them. If he doesn’t, don’t chase after him. That’s part of his game—to make you look silly running around. Instead, march right up to the teacher and tell her, ‘Excuse me, ma’am. Can I borrow a pair of shoes?’ When she finds out what happened to your shoes, trust me, she’ll handle it from there.” I explained that, technically, he wouldn’t be tattling on the bully; he’d simply be asking to borrow shoes.
Oftentimes it takes a combination of actions to stop bullying. Below are tips I give my martial arts students to help deal with such situations.
1. Don’t retaliate. If a bully physically strikes you in any way, don’t hit back. If a bully says mean things, don’t top that with a hurtful comment of your own. This will only escalate and feed the bully's power. Instead, tell a friend, a teacher or an adult about the person and incident.
2. Walk away. Tao of Texas Martial Arts Institute’s first rule of self-defense is to run away from dangerous situations. Walk away from anyone who makes you feel uncomfortable, whether the person is physically or verbally threatening. If the bully follows you, walk right up to a teacher—and just stand there.
3. Make a bully-buddy. One of my students recently told me that a classmate would stick his leg out to trip her as she walked by in the lunchroom. If this happens to you, find a “bully-buddy”—another student (or maybe several) to walk around with you. Bullies are less likely to target students who travel in pairs or groups. When challenged, many bullies will back down.
4. Avoid the bully. Another student recently said that she and her friend were scared of a boy who hovered around them and said hurtful things as they waited in the hallway for class. In this situation, the bully-buddy method wasn’t enough. Their solution? The girl and her friend began hanging out at a bench outside in the school courtyard; by class time, the boy was gone.
5. Think strong, stand tall. When confronted by a bully, think strong and stand tall. Imagine you are huge. Pretend you’re a super hero. Keep your chin up and shoulders back; and imagine that you’re wearing a cloak that doesn’t allow mean or hurtful words through.
6. “No! Stop!” If a classmate kicks or hits you, pulls your hair, cuts in line, or takes your possessions, say, “No! Stop!” as loud as you can, and then go tell a teacher what happened. This isn’t tattling. It’s called self-defense—and taking care of yourself.
7. Don’t believe everything you hear. Bullies love insults, and they have a way of pressuring otherwise nice classmates—even ones you thought were your friends—to laugh at you, or join in mocking gestures to try to make you feel embarrassed, uncomfortable, ashamed, and sad. Try a role-play game in which your mom or dad play the bully. Practice not believing mean things someone might say to you. Here’s an example of one I played with Peter, a smart, blond-haired, freckle-faced boy in my Taekwondo class.
“Peter, you have the most disgusting purple hair I’ve ever seen.”
He grinned. His classmates giggled.
“What are you smiling at?” I asked. “Your hair makes me want to throw up!”
He started to laugh. So did the rest of the class. “Why aren’t you upset, Peter?”
“Because it’s not true,” he said confidently. “I don’t have purple hair.”
“So what’s the difference in me saying something mean about your freckles? If you believe your freckles are beautiful, it doesn’t matter what I say. Right?”
“Right.”
“But let’s say you don’t think you’re good at math, and someone calls you
‘stupid.’ Then it hurts. Because you think it might be true.”
The class nods in silence. Some kids look down.
“The key is to know what’s true about you, and not be distracted by what’s not true. Love yourself for who you are—freckles, imperfect at math, and all. If others don’t ‘get’ you, their loss.”
8. Smile and nod. Bullies love to make you cry or see you be afraid. It’s a game for them. Don’t show that you’re hurt or scared. No matter what others say, smile and nod. It confuses bullies, and if they don’t get the reaction they seek, they’ll likely get bored and leave you alone.
9. Tell someone. It may be hard to speak up, but don’t be silent about bullies. Know that parents, teachers, and school counselors want to know about bullying, and that teachers are PAID not only to teach you math, English, science, and social studies, but also to ensure that you’re safe while in their care. It’s unfair—and can even be considered disrespectful—to not let them help you. Plus, your teachers may get in trouble with their boss, the principal, if you don’t let them help you.
10. Think outside the box. A parent told me that a bully had taken her son’s shoes one day at school and then threw them to his friends while her son chased after them. “If he takes your shoes again,” I told my student, “ask him to return them. If he doesn’t, don’t chase after him. That’s part of his game—to make you look silly running around. Instead, march right up to the teacher and tell her, ‘Excuse me, ma’am. Can I borrow a pair of shoes?’ When she finds out what happened to your shoes, trust me, she’ll handle it from there.” I explained that, technically, he wouldn’t be tattling on the bully; he’d simply be asking to borrow shoes.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Bullying: Signs and Solutions
[Part 5 in a series]
How can you tell if your children or your friends are being bullied when they won’t admit it?
Watch for these signs in others:
• Feeling anxious or upset about going to school or getting on the school bus
• Complaining of feeling sick—especially with headaches and stomachaches—before school
• Crying before school
• Being unusually quiet
• Avoiding certain people at school
• Having lower self-esteem than usual
• Showing a drop in grades
• Coming home from school with torn clothes
• Having unexplained bruises
• Saying they lost a personal item but not wanting to talk about how it happened
• Not mentioning that a personal item has been broken
• Denying (with irritation) that anything’s bothering them
No matter how great a relationship you have with your children or friends, targets of bullying may be hesitant to reveal what’s going on. They may feel that admission makes them look weak, or they may believe the things others say about them and therefore don’t want to talk about it because they feel shame.
A low self-esteem is a prime give-away that something’s wrong at school.
If you suspect your children or friends are being bullied, be supportive. Tell them OFTEN:
• How much you care about them
• How important they are to you
• That they can tell you anything they’re experiencing at school without judgment
• That their peers are crazy if they don’t “get” them or don't think they’re the most terrific person in the world
• That they are perfect just the way they are
Ultimately, trust your instincts. Parents, if your gut tells you that you should intervene further, set up a meeting immediately with your children’s teacher, school counselor, or principal.
How can you tell if your children or your friends are being bullied when they won’t admit it?
Watch for these signs in others:
• Feeling anxious or upset about going to school or getting on the school bus
• Complaining of feeling sick—especially with headaches and stomachaches—before school
• Crying before school
• Being unusually quiet
• Avoiding certain people at school
• Having lower self-esteem than usual
• Showing a drop in grades
• Coming home from school with torn clothes
• Having unexplained bruises
• Saying they lost a personal item but not wanting to talk about how it happened
• Not mentioning that a personal item has been broken
• Denying (with irritation) that anything’s bothering them
No matter how great a relationship you have with your children or friends, targets of bullying may be hesitant to reveal what’s going on. They may feel that admission makes them look weak, or they may believe the things others say about them and therefore don’t want to talk about it because they feel shame.
A low self-esteem is a prime give-away that something’s wrong at school.
If you suspect your children or friends are being bullied, be supportive. Tell them OFTEN:
• How much you care about them
• How important they are to you
• That they can tell you anything they’re experiencing at school without judgment
• That their peers are crazy if they don’t “get” them or don't think they’re the most terrific person in the world
• That they are perfect just the way they are
Ultimately, trust your instincts. Parents, if your gut tells you that you should intervene further, set up a meeting immediately with your children’s teacher, school counselor, or principal.
Friday, October 29, 2010
“I Was a Teenage Bully – and Didn’t Know It”
[Part 4 in a series]
Looking at my partner—a mature, responsible Lutheran Democrat who relays phone calls for the deaf and hard of hearing of Texas and volunteers every Saturday at a low-cost spay and neuter animal clinic—you’d never know she was a bully in school.
“Were you ever bullied?” I asked one night as I began preparing to write this series.
She paused, then said, “No, I was probably the bully.”
“Really?” I said with a surprised shriek.
She seemed equally surprised. She’d never thought much about it until all the stories of Phoebe Prince surfaced and we began to talk more about our individual school experiences.
I’ve always thought anyone with half a heart could spot a bully a West Texas mile away. Now I’m not so sure. And knowing my partner, I’m convinced that she is one of those people statistics cite who don’t realize just how hurtful and harmful their harassment is to their peers—who blow off their behavior as good, old-fashioned teasing.
Were you, or are you, a bully? Have your ridiculing words or physical actions caused others pain?
Let’s be clear: There ARE mean people in the world who find pleasure in hurting their peers. They know what they’re doing, and they do it with a powerful sense of gratification.
Studies indicate, though, that the majority of bullies were once victims of bullies themselves—many simply doing what was done to them without a second thought. Could the majority of bullies be truly that clueless about the impact of their actions? Could you have been a bully yourself and not even known it?
To find out, let’s all answer one of those dopey questionnaires. Ready? Have you ever:
• Hit, kicked, pushed, back-slapped, tripped a peer?
• Pulled someone's hair or spit at them?
• Called a peer names, or verbally ridiculed him or her in front of friends or before strangers in public?
• Mocked a person’s voice or walk, regardless of whether he or she was present?
• Knocked books out of a classmate’s arms?
• Taken property and refused to give it back—or made your peer do something humiliating and embarrassing to get the property back?
• Taken and purposefully broken someone’s property?
• Pressured others to join in on teasing or hitting someone?
• Alienated a peer from a social circle or group game?
• Threatened others so that they wouldn’t intervene on behalf of a bullied peer?
If you answered yes to any of these questions, sorry to break it to you, but you are, or have been, a bully.
It’s not too late, though, to change your behavior—to make amends. If you’re truly remorseful, here are some ideas on how to cleanse your karma:
• Apologize immediately for past behavior and DO NOT REPEAT that behavior again. If you say you’re sorry but repeat the same actions, it hurts your peers even more—and you lose integrity.
• The next time a peer is being criticized—unfair or not, present or not—say, “That’s bullying, and it’s no O.K. Not now, not ever.” Then walk away.
• Invite the targeted or alienated peer to join your group for lunch or to just sit and talk.
• If you’re in school, tell a teacher or counselor that a peer is being bullied, and that you’re concerned for his or her welfare.
• Avoid hanging out with peers who criticize others because they’re different, especially if they are intolerant of others based on race, religion, socio-economic status, sexual orientation, or disability.
• Forgive yourself for past wrongs.
Humans are incredibly resilient. Many grown adults have survived bullying in school. Some are stronger for it, but for many, it’s still a source of painful memories.
If you’ve been a bully in the past, talk to others who were bullied. Get real clear about the depth of damage your actions might have caused. Then share your realizations with others—especially the youth in the world—and use your experiences as a springboard to a more open dialogue on how to treat peers with respect.
It’s always the right time to make amends for past actions—to others and to yourself. All that is required is a sincere heart and a courageous spirit. You never know: People who have been bullied in the past, like me, might just need to hear a kind word from you today.
Looking at my partner—a mature, responsible Lutheran Democrat who relays phone calls for the deaf and hard of hearing of Texas and volunteers every Saturday at a low-cost spay and neuter animal clinic—you’d never know she was a bully in school.
“Were you ever bullied?” I asked one night as I began preparing to write this series.
She paused, then said, “No, I was probably the bully.”
“Really?” I said with a surprised shriek.
She seemed equally surprised. She’d never thought much about it until all the stories of Phoebe Prince surfaced and we began to talk more about our individual school experiences.
I’ve always thought anyone with half a heart could spot a bully a West Texas mile away. Now I’m not so sure. And knowing my partner, I’m convinced that she is one of those people statistics cite who don’t realize just how hurtful and harmful their harassment is to their peers—who blow off their behavior as good, old-fashioned teasing.
Were you, or are you, a bully? Have your ridiculing words or physical actions caused others pain?
Let’s be clear: There ARE mean people in the world who find pleasure in hurting their peers. They know what they’re doing, and they do it with a powerful sense of gratification.
Studies indicate, though, that the majority of bullies were once victims of bullies themselves—many simply doing what was done to them without a second thought. Could the majority of bullies be truly that clueless about the impact of their actions? Could you have been a bully yourself and not even known it?
To find out, let’s all answer one of those dopey questionnaires. Ready? Have you ever:
• Hit, kicked, pushed, back-slapped, tripped a peer?
• Pulled someone's hair or spit at them?
• Called a peer names, or verbally ridiculed him or her in front of friends or before strangers in public?
• Mocked a person’s voice or walk, regardless of whether he or she was present?
• Knocked books out of a classmate’s arms?
• Taken property and refused to give it back—or made your peer do something humiliating and embarrassing to get the property back?
• Taken and purposefully broken someone’s property?
• Pressured others to join in on teasing or hitting someone?
• Alienated a peer from a social circle or group game?
• Threatened others so that they wouldn’t intervene on behalf of a bullied peer?
If you answered yes to any of these questions, sorry to break it to you, but you are, or have been, a bully.
It’s not too late, though, to change your behavior—to make amends. If you’re truly remorseful, here are some ideas on how to cleanse your karma:
• Apologize immediately for past behavior and DO NOT REPEAT that behavior again. If you say you’re sorry but repeat the same actions, it hurts your peers even more—and you lose integrity.
• The next time a peer is being criticized—unfair or not, present or not—say, “That’s bullying, and it’s no O.K. Not now, not ever.” Then walk away.
• Invite the targeted or alienated peer to join your group for lunch or to just sit and talk.
• If you’re in school, tell a teacher or counselor that a peer is being bullied, and that you’re concerned for his or her welfare.
• Avoid hanging out with peers who criticize others because they’re different, especially if they are intolerant of others based on race, religion, socio-economic status, sexual orientation, or disability.
• Forgive yourself for past wrongs.
Humans are incredibly resilient. Many grown adults have survived bullying in school. Some are stronger for it, but for many, it’s still a source of painful memories.
If you’ve been a bully in the past, talk to others who were bullied. Get real clear about the depth of damage your actions might have caused. Then share your realizations with others—especially the youth in the world—and use your experiences as a springboard to a more open dialogue on how to treat peers with respect.
It’s always the right time to make amends for past actions—to others and to yourself. All that is required is a sincere heart and a courageous spirit. You never know: People who have been bullied in the past, like me, might just need to hear a kind word from you today.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Memories of Being Bullied
[Part 3 in a series]
Every morning when I was in the second grade, I begged my mom to let me stay home from school.
When I was 8 years old, I was bullied.
Tears flowed from my eyes every day as I sobbed, “Mamma, I don’t wanna go to school!” My mother ignored me, diligently helping tie the shoelaces on my black and white track shoes. I had run out of stomachaches, headaches, and fake fevers. I had to go to school, and I dreaded it because I just didn’t want to face what kids would say to me another day.
From first grade until about ninth grade, I was teased for a variety of reasons. My peers said:
• I was gross. (Truth: I had a gum disease that caused my gums to spontaneously bleed. This drew the disgusted “Eews!” jeers of my classmates.)
• I wore ugly dresses. (Truth: The dresses were discount-store-bought cheap, but pretty. I wore them with black and white track shoes and knee-high white socks—a big fashion no-no, but, come on, I was just a kid.)
• I was a nerd. (Truth: I was book-smart, and I loved learning.)
• I was a teacher’s pet. (Truth: I thrived on pleasing authority figures—and still do.)
Students also mocked my last name with a similarly sounding Spanish slang phrase that was a gay slur.
I played the part of a super-stealth ninja for most of my time in school. I tried not to cry when kids said hurtful things because I learned that if they didn’t think they hurt my feelings, they lost interest and went on to bully someone else.
That worked until the sixth grade, when an older classmate threatened to beat me up after school—for no reason. Again, I was scared and didn’t want to go to school. But while I didn’t breathe a word about the bullies before, I did tell my mom about this girl. Mamma’s solution? Wear jeans and loop on my sister’s thick leather western belt.
"If that girl lays a hand on you," Mamma insisted, "you pull that belt off and whip her with it!"
I snuck around school, changing my routes to avoid the bully, and eventually she forgot about me. For the rest of the year, though, I had a whole new group of kids making fun of me and that big leather belt, calling me “Hee Haw Cathy.”
Eventually, around 10th grade, my peers stopped picking on me. I still excelled in academics, except by the time of my induction into the National Honor Society, being smart was considered an asset. My classmates could call me “nerd” all day long and it didn't matter: I knew I was bound for college. (Stick tongue out here.)
Today I’m a grown woman who still loves to read and has made a career out of working with words as a writer and editor. I also have much higher self-esteem and inner strength. Studying martial arts has been a true gift. It saddens me and makes me angry when I hear what comes out of the mouths of today's bullies. But today through martial arts, I have a chance to help youths build self-confidence as a way to combat the bullies I know they run into at school. I get to give them the words I never knew to speak and the courage I didn't yet have to stand up for themselves.
Surviving bullying IS NOT a rite of passage. Bullying is WRONG. No kid should have to grow thicker skin or toughen up so that they can weather classmates’ taunts and torture. It doesn’t have to be this way.
Until our judgmental and violent-prone culture changes, though, the best I can do is to pass on the following wisdom to those who still suffer the wrath of bullies:
• Don’t listen to or believe your classmates’ hurtful words. The mean things a bully might say to you and about you aren’t true anyway. Imagine you’re Teflon cookware: Let nothing stick to you.
• Stand up for yourself—and others. Repeat this simple mantra: “Bullying is not O.K.—not now, not ever!” Then walk away.
• Stick with the winners. Find a good, solid group of peeps and stay close. Avoid those fair-weather friends who abandon you when the bully comes around or who join in on the bashing because they themselves are afraid of what the bully might do or say if they don’t.
• Talk to someone. Don’t suffer in silence. Adults can and will help if you ask—even parents.
• Give it time. Remember that school life doesn’t last forever. This, too, shall pass, so please hang in there.
• Avoid taking bully-prevention fashion tips from your mother at all costs.
Every morning when I was in the second grade, I begged my mom to let me stay home from school.
When I was 8 years old, I was bullied.
Tears flowed from my eyes every day as I sobbed, “Mamma, I don’t wanna go to school!” My mother ignored me, diligently helping tie the shoelaces on my black and white track shoes. I had run out of stomachaches, headaches, and fake fevers. I had to go to school, and I dreaded it because I just didn’t want to face what kids would say to me another day.
From first grade until about ninth grade, I was teased for a variety of reasons. My peers said:
• I was gross. (Truth: I had a gum disease that caused my gums to spontaneously bleed. This drew the disgusted “Eews!” jeers of my classmates.)
• I wore ugly dresses. (Truth: The dresses were discount-store-bought cheap, but pretty. I wore them with black and white track shoes and knee-high white socks—a big fashion no-no, but, come on, I was just a kid.)
• I was a nerd. (Truth: I was book-smart, and I loved learning.)
• I was a teacher’s pet. (Truth: I thrived on pleasing authority figures—and still do.)
Students also mocked my last name with a similarly sounding Spanish slang phrase that was a gay slur.
I played the part of a super-stealth ninja for most of my time in school. I tried not to cry when kids said hurtful things because I learned that if they didn’t think they hurt my feelings, they lost interest and went on to bully someone else.
That worked until the sixth grade, when an older classmate threatened to beat me up after school—for no reason. Again, I was scared and didn’t want to go to school. But while I didn’t breathe a word about the bullies before, I did tell my mom about this girl. Mamma’s solution? Wear jeans and loop on my sister’s thick leather western belt.
"If that girl lays a hand on you," Mamma insisted, "you pull that belt off and whip her with it!"
I snuck around school, changing my routes to avoid the bully, and eventually she forgot about me. For the rest of the year, though, I had a whole new group of kids making fun of me and that big leather belt, calling me “Hee Haw Cathy.”
Eventually, around 10th grade, my peers stopped picking on me. I still excelled in academics, except by the time of my induction into the National Honor Society, being smart was considered an asset. My classmates could call me “nerd” all day long and it didn't matter: I knew I was bound for college. (Stick tongue out here.)
Today I’m a grown woman who still loves to read and has made a career out of working with words as a writer and editor. I also have much higher self-esteem and inner strength. Studying martial arts has been a true gift. It saddens me and makes me angry when I hear what comes out of the mouths of today's bullies. But today through martial arts, I have a chance to help youths build self-confidence as a way to combat the bullies I know they run into at school. I get to give them the words I never knew to speak and the courage I didn't yet have to stand up for themselves.
Surviving bullying IS NOT a rite of passage. Bullying is WRONG. No kid should have to grow thicker skin or toughen up so that they can weather classmates’ taunts and torture. It doesn’t have to be this way.
Until our judgmental and violent-prone culture changes, though, the best I can do is to pass on the following wisdom to those who still suffer the wrath of bullies:
• Don’t listen to or believe your classmates’ hurtful words. The mean things a bully might say to you and about you aren’t true anyway. Imagine you’re Teflon cookware: Let nothing stick to you.
• Stand up for yourself—and others. Repeat this simple mantra: “Bullying is not O.K.—not now, not ever!” Then walk away.
• Stick with the winners. Find a good, solid group of peeps and stay close. Avoid those fair-weather friends who abandon you when the bully comes around or who join in on the bashing because they themselves are afraid of what the bully might do or say if they don’t.
• Talk to someone. Don’t suffer in silence. Adults can and will help if you ask—even parents.
• Give it time. Remember that school life doesn’t last forever. This, too, shall pass, so please hang in there.
• Avoid taking bully-prevention fashion tips from your mother at all costs.
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