How to handle a bully
Alison Barry was the neighbourhood bully. Everyone was terrified of her. Small children would burst into tears if their stroller was wheeled past her. Kids would stop playing and hurry inside if they saw her coming. Grown men would cross the street to avoid passing her.
At school she reigned supreme. Kids parted like the Red Sea before her on the playground and handed over their lunch and any money they had without being asked. It was easier that way. Even teachers stayed out of her way. She did whatever she wanted. If a teacher said "the earth is round," and Alison said "No it isn't, it's flat," the teacher would immediately agree for fear that she'd be flattened if she didn't, which made learning geography very confusing.
Occasionally a new teacher who wasn't familiar with the routine would attempt to actually teach Alison, with predictably disastrous results. A conversation along these lines would be had:
Teacher Alison, if I had three apples and you gave me two apples, how many
apples would I have?
Alison None
Teacher None? What makes you think that?
Alison Because I wouldn't give you my apples and I'd take yours
Teacher Maybe I'm not explaining this very well. Let's see...ok...I have THREE
apples, and you give me TWO apples. Three apples plus two apples
is how many apples?
Alison I'm not giving you any apples. Get your own apples
Teacher No. No. There are no apples
Alison Who took the apples? Whoever took them better give them back now
or I'll beat the snot out of them
Teacher No. Wait. Let's try something else. How about this. If I hold
up three fingers, and then hold up another two fingers, how many
fingers am I holding up?
Alison Five
Teacher Well done!
Alison Five broken fingers
Teacher What?
Alison If you don't stop asking me stupid questions, I'm going to break your
fingers
Teacher Well now that is extremely rude!
Alison Aw, shut up!
Teacher That's it! Go to the principal's office! Why are you coming up here?
Ow! You just hit me! Let go of my neck! I can't breathe! Help!
Now, from the tender age of seven I had seen myself as a social justice warrior. I imagined that one day I would be an advocate for human rights the world over. I could see myself accepting the Nobel Peace Prize for bringing two warring nations together. Hadn't I been told many times by adults that bullies are just misunderstood and that reasoning with them in a calm manner was how they should be treated. Violence was never the answer.
One day as I was walking home, I met Alison Barry. I had been out playing and found a large tree branch which I was dragging along behind me. I have no idea what I was planning to do with a tree branch but having one seemed like a really good idea at the time.
So there I was hauling this branch up the street and leaving a trail of leaves behind me, when I turned around and saw Alison Barry walking towards me. Was I afraid? Of course not! Didn't I know exactly how to treat a bully! And anyway, maybe she was coming over to congratulate me on having such a cool branch. She wasn't. Here's what happened:
Alison Gimme that branch
Me No. That's my branch
Alison Gimme that branch or I'll beat the crap out of you
Me Alison, this is MY branch. Let me just get it home and I'll come with
you and show you where I got it and we can get one for you
Alison Are you deaf? Gimme the branch or you're going to be sorry
Me I understand that you want my branch, but violence is not the answer
Alison For the last time, GIMME THE BRANCH!
Me I understand how you're feeling but please let go of my branch
And you know what? She let go and apologized and helped me get the branch home and we played together for the rest of the day and became best friends.
I could see my mother, who had told me to stand up to bullies, hiding behind the curtains. At one point she appeared to be waving at me but I realized, as I was being kicked in the leg for the fourth time and sat on, that she was actually blessing herself and praying.
Alison Barry took my branch and walked off with it. I limped down my path and fell in the front door. Before I passed out, I looked up at my mother with the eye that wasn't shut and asked "Why didn't you do something?" And her answer has stayed with me all these years through adulthood because of its simple logic. Because of its clarity. Because of its insight and pure wisdom. Because of its profound understanding of the human condition. She said "Because it was ALISON BARRY!"
Over the years I have thought about Alison Barry and the whole issue with bullies. I have read studies and watched documentaries. I even briefly joined Alcoholics
Anonymous until I realized I was in the wrong place. The message was always the same. Bullying is a cry for help. Inside every bully is a wounded child. They need our understanding and compassion. Violence is not the answer!
I disagree. I have encountered many bullies in my life and, having attempted compassion only to have them rearrange my face, I have concluded that violence is very much the answer. So the next time I meet a bully I'm going to point off in the distance and say "Oh my god! Look at that!" Then, when they look, I'll kick them in the leg and run away.
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