Looking back on my childhood my sister was always, and still is to this day, the dramatic one so she tends to be the center of attention in my family. My mom always tells me when I was a child I could sit on the floor for hours entertained by nothing more than a pair of socks. From the moment my sister tried to throw me in a garbage can when I was a baby, I was suddenly pushed into the role of the “Peaceful Child,” the child who didn’t seek out attention, didn’t cause family disputes and was simply expected to behave twenty-four seven. This being the way my family functioned, when the bullying began at school it was very easy to hide it. In fact, no one in my family new I was bullied in school until June 14th, 2010 when I told them I was gay.
Gay.
It was the end of recess and my fourth grade class was lined up to go back inside when out of nowhere a boy came up beside me and said I was “gay”. I didn’t know what this word meant and frankly I don’t think he did either, but I didn’t like it. I thought very little about this insult at the time and I had no idea how it would haunt me through the remainder of my school years.
The bullying seemed to begin around the same time I started taking dance classes. To this day this is something I can’t really wrap my head around: I was being bullied by guys for doing an activity that involved being the only boy in a room full of half naked girls, when the guys played hockey or basketball so they would be in a changing room full of half naked, sweaty guys. Clearly if I had my time back I would have done things differently!
When middle school started I began to close myself off from friends and family. I walked around with a smile on my face and pretended like nothing was wrong when in reality, I was being eaten up by fear. For years I wouldn’t go out anywhere with my family, to the mall, movies or even out for a walk because I was terrified of being bullied in front of them. What would they think of me?
I had people call me names like faggot and gaylord and regularly got shoved in the hallways, and even had words engraved into my locker. Because of all of the schoolyard torture I now suffer from anxiety, depression and my own little food issue. However, I don’t hate the people who bullied me, instead I feel sorry for them. When someone bullies it’s usually a reaction to an unfortunate situation that’s happening in his or her own life and has little to do with the person they’re picking on. When it comes to bullying we’re so eager to point the finger of blame at someone, to say, “you’re the bully and you’re the victim!” but life is never that black and white. For the most part people aren’t calling others names and beating others up for no reason. As human beings we’re constantly reacting to situations and as young children and young adults that can be very scary and it can make the best of people do the most horrible things. We need to look past this steadfast explanation of the bully and the victim that we settled on years ago and really examine each side for real answers.
If I could change that I was bullied when I was younger, I wouldn’t! On some level, I’m grateful it happened. Although it left me with many scars, it also left me with many gifts. It’s not something that defines me but it is an experience that has taught me selflessness, understanding, sympathy, compassion and most importantly forgiveness. I understand these in a way that most people don’t and for that I am grateful. I don’t know if I’ll ever see that boy from my fourth grade school yard again, but if I do I would say I forgive you…in fact I forgave you a long time ago! Now buy me a double vodka and orange juice!!
~Be strong, be brave and always remember to laugh a little.
Adam Carroll
www.facebook.com/LetsHaveAMoment
Gay.
It was the end of recess and my fourth grade class was lined up to go back inside when out of nowhere a boy came up beside me and said I was “gay”. I didn’t know what this word meant and frankly I don’t think he did either, but I didn’t like it. I thought very little about this insult at the time and I had no idea how it would haunt me through the remainder of my school years.
The bullying seemed to begin around the same time I started taking dance classes. To this day this is something I can’t really wrap my head around: I was being bullied by guys for doing an activity that involved being the only boy in a room full of half naked girls, when the guys played hockey or basketball so they would be in a changing room full of half naked, sweaty guys. Clearly if I had my time back I would have done things differently!
When middle school started I began to close myself off from friends and family. I walked around with a smile on my face and pretended like nothing was wrong when in reality, I was being eaten up by fear. For years I wouldn’t go out anywhere with my family, to the mall, movies or even out for a walk because I was terrified of being bullied in front of them. What would they think of me?
I had people call me names like faggot and gaylord and regularly got shoved in the hallways, and even had words engraved into my locker. Because of all of the schoolyard torture I now suffer from anxiety, depression and my own little food issue. However, I don’t hate the people who bullied me, instead I feel sorry for them. When someone bullies it’s usually a reaction to an unfortunate situation that’s happening in his or her own life and has little to do with the person they’re picking on. When it comes to bullying we’re so eager to point the finger of blame at someone, to say, “you’re the bully and you’re the victim!” but life is never that black and white. For the most part people aren’t calling others names and beating others up for no reason. As human beings we’re constantly reacting to situations and as young children and young adults that can be very scary and it can make the best of people do the most horrible things. We need to look past this steadfast explanation of the bully and the victim that we settled on years ago and really examine each side for real answers.
If I could change that I was bullied when I was younger, I wouldn’t! On some level, I’m grateful it happened. Although it left me with many scars, it also left me with many gifts. It’s not something that defines me but it is an experience that has taught me selflessness, understanding, sympathy, compassion and most importantly forgiveness. I understand these in a way that most people don’t and for that I am grateful. I don’t know if I’ll ever see that boy from my fourth grade school yard again, but if I do I would say I forgive you…in fact I forgave you a long time ago! Now buy me a double vodka and orange juice!!
~Be strong, be brave and always remember to laugh a little.
Adam Carroll
www.facebook.com/LetsHaveAMoment