then
[may 03 2006, 22:06]
a few minutes ago, i watched a tv show about a school in berlin. of course, it's just another channel jumping the wave of reports about violent kids at school, capitulating teachers and students who fear for their lives. of course i've seen all that before and of course i've always known how it really is but there still was one thing that really surprised and even shocked me.
there was the story of a kid in ninth grade. he had a crush on one of the other students and because he told him so, was abused for that by the entire class.
at first, i marvelled at how little the teachers got involved, how little they seemed to care. but then i remembered how it was with myself.
i can't really recall the time now that i come to think of it but the first couple of years in secondary school were pure horror to me. for quite some time i was the favourite random victim of several kids in my class. they did not hurt me or anything, no, it was all laughing and pointing and ridiculing and all that mess that you shouldn't really care about. but when you're an eleven year old kid who has grown up in the most protected sort of environment – when that happens to you, you collapse. at least i did.
by the way: i figure that most people who pretend that this kind of stuff doesn't get through to them are in fact just too afraid to admit it. that kind of shit hurts everyone.
anyway, i know that this kind of situation is incredibly hard to deal with and i wouldn't know any way to fix it. i understand that the teachers are exhausted of all this mess (just like mine were) and i understand that after years and years of going through this they've just given up.
what i don't understand is the thing that one of the teachers (the ninth grader's favourite one!) said to him when he (or more the headmaster) had decided to switch to another school. she was obviously really sad to see him go or perhaps she just realized her own failure to protect him from the rest of the class.
however, what she said was:
and then i began to wonder what would have happened if i had gotten that piece of advice.
when i was in that situation (no, not having publicly expressed my affection for another guy, the mobbing situation) i was always told to keep it up. stay strong. keep on. not to let them get to me.
that never worked. of course they got through to me and of course i was devastated. but somehow (with the help of two or three great friends – i guess i never thanked them for it) i managed. somehow i got through.
but what if i had changed, had adapted (if that had been possible)? where would i be now?
all kinds of ideas are racing through my head at the moment, imagining what would be worse and what would be better. i would seem more confident perhaps, because i would have learned to fake it better. perhaps i would have been bold (or stupid?) enough to tell that girl that she really, really, really means a lot to me. perhaps i'd be stealing cars by now – who knows!
i would have to pretend much more than i already have to right now.
i don't think i'd keep up.
and now, i'm thinking about that kid, that ninth grader who now gets to another school with other bullies and shit, about him pretending to dig that girl over there because everyone does, getting into the mob, laughing about the kid with the knobby knees over there, the one with the huge glasses, and ultimately slipping from his routine and saying something he feels he shouldn't have said.
and he's going to run and he will run for the rest of his life.
there are relatively few moments that i can think of when things went right for me. i'm a whining ass, i know, but right now it's the valley of summer depression with hayfever and sun and happy couples and all that kit and kaboodle so excuse me for that. this however, the fact that i didn't run although they virtually had to pin me to the ground, the fact that i kept up was probably one of the good things.
although it hurt like hell.
conform and people are going to like you.
fuckass.
charon
there was the story of a kid in ninth grade. he had a crush on one of the other students and because he told him so, was abused for that by the entire class.
at first, i marvelled at how little the teachers got involved, how little they seemed to care. but then i remembered how it was with myself.
i can't really recall the time now that i come to think of it but the first couple of years in secondary school were pure horror to me. for quite some time i was the favourite random victim of several kids in my class. they did not hurt me or anything, no, it was all laughing and pointing and ridiculing and all that mess that you shouldn't really care about. but when you're an eleven year old kid who has grown up in the most protected sort of environment – when that happens to you, you collapse. at least i did.
by the way: i figure that most people who pretend that this kind of stuff doesn't get through to them are in fact just too afraid to admit it. that kind of shit hurts everyone.
anyway, i know that this kind of situation is incredibly hard to deal with and i wouldn't know any way to fix it. i understand that the teachers are exhausted of all this mess (just like mine were) and i understand that after years and years of going through this they've just given up.
what i don't understand is the thing that one of the teachers (the ninth grader's favourite one!) said to him when he (or more the headmaster) had decided to switch to another school. she was obviously really sad to see him go or perhaps she just realized her own failure to protect him from the rest of the class.
however, what she said was:
conform and people are going to like you
and then my jaw truly dropped to the floor. what kind of advice is that supposed to be? does she really mean that? i guess she did.and then i began to wonder what would have happened if i had gotten that piece of advice.
when i was in that situation (no, not having publicly expressed my affection for another guy, the mobbing situation) i was always told to keep it up. stay strong. keep on. not to let them get to me.
that never worked. of course they got through to me and of course i was devastated. but somehow (with the help of two or three great friends – i guess i never thanked them for it) i managed. somehow i got through.
but what if i had changed, had adapted (if that had been possible)? where would i be now?
all kinds of ideas are racing through my head at the moment, imagining what would be worse and what would be better. i would seem more confident perhaps, because i would have learned to fake it better. perhaps i would have been bold (or stupid?) enough to tell that girl that she really, really, really means a lot to me. perhaps i'd be stealing cars by now – who knows!
i would have to pretend much more than i already have to right now.
i don't think i'd keep up.
and now, i'm thinking about that kid, that ninth grader who now gets to another school with other bullies and shit, about him pretending to dig that girl over there because everyone does, getting into the mob, laughing about the kid with the knobby knees over there, the one with the huge glasses, and ultimately slipping from his routine and saying something he feels he shouldn't have said.
and he's going to run and he will run for the rest of his life.
there are relatively few moments that i can think of when things went right for me. i'm a whining ass, i know, but right now it's the valley of summer depression with hayfever and sun and happy couples and all that kit and kaboodle so excuse me for that. this however, the fact that i didn't run although they virtually had to pin me to the ground, the fact that i kept up was probably one of the good things.
although it hurt like hell.
conform and people are going to like you.
fuckass.
charon