Call it what it is, peer abuse

I was always shy in school and slow to make friends. I didn't have many. I was socially awkward, didn't dress well, and my hair never looked good. I was smart and got good grades.

I remember the teasing starting in grade 6 or so, the last year of elementary school. Kids were paying attention to their clothes more, and I wasn't. Whatever, grade 7 started and I moved on up to junior high. We heard nice tales about how everyone was more mature in junior high.

Fuck that.

Grade 7 photo, taken in the beginning of the
year. I was happy and confident.

I was in Mrs. Nasadyk's class. Within the first day or two I'd met a bunch of new people, boys and girls, they were friendly and developed a group. I'd never been part of a group before. Pretty soon it was evident that I was different. I dressed differently, I didn't like the same music or tv shows, and I wasn't interested in boys. I didn't draw in the same style (yes, this was an issue). I didn't wear makeup. I was 11 when I started school and turned 12 in November. Then it happened. I DID get a boyfriend. We went to the Halloween dance together. He got me a rose on my birthday. And I... didn't get the point? I was not interested. At all. I wanted to "break up" with him. I confided this to one of my friends and asked how I went about doing that. She'd known him longer, so she told him herself. He broke up with me via passed note. I was confused but not overly distraught.

But then the friendship slowly disintegrated. Except no one told me. They started doing things without me. They had a sleepover and called me from it to tell me what they were doing. I still didn't get it. Shortly after Christmas holidays, the three other girls cornered me at my locker and giggled their way through a rehearsed speech, each taking turns saying a word.

We. 

Don't.

Really.

Want.

You.

Hanging.

Out.

With.

Us.

Anymore.

I was shocked. Speechless. Crushed. I didn't know what to say. In my memory of this I see it as if I'm watching a movie, looking over their shoulders and watching myself in the corner, too ashamed to do anything. They left and it took all I had to keep the tears in as I finished getting my stuff and walked down a reeeeeeally long hallway to leave the school. Perhaps it was a kindness they waited till the end of the day. Probably they just needed the day to rehearse.

My mom was there to pick me up as usual. I started crying as soon as I got in. I told her what happened.

"Well, you must have done something to upset them. Maybe you should apologize."

Or some shit like that. Point is, the victim blaming was alive and well in my house. Previous encounters with teasing had been met with "If you ignore it, they will stop" and "They only tease you because you react."

ADULTS LIE.

Peer abusers won't stop if you ignore it, and they tease you because they can. They tease because it makes them feel powerful. They tease because they are amused by your reaction, and they tease because they want to see how far they can go before they get a reaction. Or they do it because they have no idea how not to. They will not stop if you ignore it. They want to hurt you.

All that advice, all of it, is victim blaming. You know how tight jeans, short skirts, low cut tops, and being drunk aren't an excuse to rape women? Being small, awkward, and uncool isn't an excuse to abuse your peers physically, emotionally, verbally, or in any other way. You stop rape by teaching men not to rape. You stop peer abuse by teaching abusers not to be shitheads.

Back to the hallowed halls of Robb Road Junior Secondary. So either that incident happened on a weekend or I refused to go to school for a few days. I don't remember. But I was a wreck. I dreaded going back to school. Where would I sit? What would I do? The kids who ate lunch alone were losers. I was a loser. I talked to no one all morning. It was weird and scary. At lunch I was terrified walking into the lunch room. I looked around and picked a table where the kids didn't look too intimidating, summoned some courage, and made a really lame excuse about why I needed to sit down (I think I sprained my ankle). They said okay. Phew!

Grade 8. I'm still fearful of sharing this. This
girl? Lonely, depressed, confused, and
awkward.

So I wasn't completely fucking alone, but it didn't really fix anything. Grade 7 was a shit show and it got worse and worse and worse. I was a target now. I was teased for just about everything. I got volleyballs thrown at my head in gym class. I got poor grades in gym class because I didn't participate, but I didn't participate because a) I sucked and b) the teachers liked to mix the teams by skill level, which meant I was always split from my friends (who also sucked) and put with mean girls who didn't like me and wouldn't let me participate.

I had my locker vandalized with nasty writing. I don't remember what it said, just how humiliating it was to walk up to it and have to open it. I was threatened with violence. The rest of it was just that insidious girl bullying. Exclusion and judgement and just general nastiness. Because it's not over or obvious, it gets easily ignored, swept under the rug, and dismissed. Adults have dismissed it when I speak of the experience. I was too sensitive. Oh, we don't let that happen in schools any more (this one said by a current educator). We know the damage bullying causes and we're working to stop it.

No.

We.

Aren't.

It happens every day, all day, and it continues to happen when kids go home thanks to the magic that is Facebook. If social media existed back then I could very, very easily have been Amanda Todd or Rehtaeh Parsons or Jamey Rodemeyer or Aaron Dugmore or Courtney Brown or Ryan Patrick Halligan or Amanda Brownell or Jamie Hubley or Hope Witsell or or or. All the talk is of how isolated the victims were, how they didn't get the help they needed. Nothing talks about stopping the abuse before it happens. All these cases show that it's getting WORSE.

High school was marginally better than junior high in that I had friends I could count on regularly to sit with and not be alone. I still didn't get invited to do things outside school. I was and still am an introvert, but I would probably be more outgoing if it weren't for my junior high and high school experience. Instead, high school taught me to be incredibly self conscious about being enthusiastic about anything lest I be criticised for it. I learned to hide what I enjoy reading, listening to, watching, and doing. I learned not to try dressing stylishly because I wouldn't get it right and would just get mocked. I learned to stay quiet and out of the way as the best way to avoid ridicule. I learned to expect to be excluded from fun experiences. I didn't go to dances because I wasn't invited. I pretended disinterest in the traditional grad class minuet because I knew I wouldn't be welcome. I didn't go to the after-grad party or participate in a single one of the grad activities aside from the ceremony. I was a prolific writer all the way through high school and university and self-published on the internet. I hid that. I still refuse to let anyone read a single word of my fiction (when I have time and inspiration to write), because of my ingrained fear of ridicule.

You know what? All that hiding didn't help. And now, fifteen years later, I still haven't let go of the animosity I hold for one particular girl because she hated me for my very existence. When teachers posted grades, she looked for mine. Every time. The teacher stopped posting names and just posted student numbers. She knew my student number. She would find my grade and curse me every single time. She dropped out of a class because I was at the top of it. I did nothing to this girl I had known since kindergarten. I never spoke to her, never engaged with her in any way. She hated me, for no other reason (that I know of) than my grades were better than hers. Yes, that did give me a pleasant sense of satisfaction in a way, but it didn't help the crippling feeling of powerlessness.

Grade 12 graduation photo. Still choked my
mom didn't pay for the real deal, because
I was proud of myself and pleased with my
appearance for once.

So all the others? Whatever. They were pretentious, self-absorbed, cliquey and mean. I'm over it. But this one? Not so much. That's a lot of talent, creating a lasting 15-year impression on someone. You know who else has left a lasting 15-year impression? The girl who stayed my friend throughout high school even though I probably brought her down a few notches in popularity and is still my friend today. You rock.

I will also take this opportunity to apologize to Rose, Mary-Anne, and Emily. Rose and Mary-Anne - you had no friends. I felt bad for you. People were horrible to you and I ignored it because I was busy trying not to be abused myself. That is not an excuse. Everyone needs friends. I'm sure you were awesome. Emily, you were awkward just like me. We were friends. In high school a bitchy "friend" of ours started an anonymous campaign to tell you either not to be so weird or not to be our friend, I don't remember. It was brief and lasted one day, and I don't even know if you ultimately knew about it. I knew it was wrong then and it's still wrong now. I knew better. I should have stopped it. I'm sorry.

Hey, did you notice I never once used the term bullying? Bullying is so over-used it has no effect. School yard bullying is easily dismissed as just "something that happens." Except it doesn't "just happen" just like spousal abuse, elder abuse, child abuse, and rape don't "just happen." Someone commits an act against another and often other people let it happen. More on victim blaming next time.