I love children. All colors, all races,and all bullies. Maybe this is so because I too was once a child who was not so popular at school or at home so I took it out on other children or things with less power than mine.
Children who live in a dysfunctional family such as my was, absent father, hateful mom who was never there, usually feel rejected, angry, sad, and definitely lonely.
Yes, I was really lonely, and angry, especially when I saw other children with better clothes, lunch money, friends and of course caring parents. Who did they think they were anyway, princes and princesses? Well, I would show them and I did.
Pushing, shoveling, stealing, lying was just a few of my bullying specialities. Picking fights on the school bus was my best speciality. I was queen mean and I loved the power I had over the scarty cats. I had a special seat on the bus that no one would dare sit in, lunch money was no problem and nobody's boyfriend was off limits. I took and terrorized anyone that would allow me to.
My school was at it wits end. I was expelled more times that I can remember. Each time I was expelled I got the blood beat out of me by my mom's live in boyfriend who drank wine for water and wouldn't know a job if it sat on his lap.
By the grace of God, I say, I made it out of school, with the help of an angel on earth, my physical education teacher, who never gave up on me. She became my unofficial "big sister," or "sargant mother."She took me under her wings and made sure I got the things that I needed, such as school supplies and feminine product, etc., things my real mother never inquired about. she showed me love that I had never known.
In case you're wondering whether my mother ever knew about my sargant? Can you believe she didn't, not until I was grown and gone did she find out about this part of my life. So sad, don't you think?
To make a long story short, I am who I am because someone, Mrs. Alridge, my p.e. teacher who loved the hell out of this (me) bully. I feel that I have the responsiblity to pass it on, and I do very often.
What's eating this bully? Is the question we should be asking.
I believe in most, not all, cases we can love the hell out of a bully.
