Bullying

I've been torn over whether to post this for a while. A few weeks ago, I had what can only be described as a break-up with a long term friend over politics--namely, human rights. You see, this person saw fit to praise a teacher who had posted about gay marriage, comparing it to theft and murder. Yes, a teacher. A high school teacher. We're all reasonably intelligent beings so I assume I needn't elaborate on the hostility of that classroom to anyone who doesn't fall within the 'acceptable' gender or sexual orientation parameters.

I hesitated over writing about this because I didn't want to a) make things worse, or b) shove my privileged heterosexual, only-possibly-gender-queer nose into this and pretend like I had enough personal experience to charge to the rescue when there are a LOT of people far better experienced and qualified than I.

 I came to the conclusion that I really didn't give a damn if it made things worse, because this person has lost all of my respect and the issue was driving me crazy. I overcame the second hesitation because I realized that I did have some pertinent experience. Namely, being bullied.

Elementary school sucked with a purple passion. A number of my peers decided that bullying the outspoken, nerdy girl for being Chinese would be really fun, and no one bothered to disabuse them of this notion for four years. They were smart enough to realize that any physical harm would get them in a lot of trouble, but that didn't stop them from getting creative. My picture on the board in the classroom got its eyes poked out, the whisper of 'chink' followed me everywhere, and I couldn't present or answer questions in class without someone interrupting or laughing at me. I'd be taunted with such gems as, "You're pretty. Pretty ugly," and the school counselor only told me that I needed to learn to be more flexible and that I needed to ignore the bullies and not retaliate. No one else did anything about it, not until my parents went to the superintendent and got nasty. To this day, my mother wouldn't tell me what they said, but things got a little more tolerable in sixth grade, and I went to a private school in seventh, which was wonderful and made all of the previous bullying unimportant.

I came out of it well, I think. I'm still not comfortable around 'popular' people, especially rich people, because that was what most of my bullies were like. I still retaliate viciously when I'm insulted or picked on or think that I am, because I feel that I can't let anyone get away with hurting me again or it'll never stop and elementary school will happen again. I have trouble trusting people. But I like myself, I like my life, and I do still have good friends. I have no sense of just waiting for someone to turn on me anymore, and for the most part, I don't remember or think about most of what happened--there are more interesting things in the present.

The reason that I'm not a wreck is my family. My mother and father were incredibly supportive, and did everything they could for me. They made it clear that the bullies were the bad guys, that I didn't deserve what I was going through, and that things would get better. And they were right.

Now imagine what it would be like to go through that without the support of a family. Imagine being told by people you trust, your mother, your father, your pastor, that you deserve that because you're a boy who's just realized he prefers other guys, or because she's found she isn't a guy in the first place. Or a girl who isn't interested in other girls or is actually a guy in the wrong body. Imagine what it's like being told from all angles either, "You're horrible because of who you are," or "We love you, but you're a bad person for what you feel and you're going to hell." (Translation: You deserve to be bullied. Or, to the bullies: This person is a bad person. The latter isn't tacit encouragement, but it just makes it that much easier).

At least half of the young people in this country who identify as other than cis-gendered or heterosexual will contemplate suicide. Far, far too many will follow through.

Every time you say that being gay or trans or otherwise different is an abomination, no matter how throughly you wrap it in 'Oh, I love you, but you're a sinner', you make it that much easier for the bully, and that much harder for the victim to get help. You're like the person that told me that it was my fault for not being 'flexible' enough. You make it their fault that they're being hurt. And that is sick. You're as guilty of bullying as the person who hurls insults or blows.

I do not tolerate bullies.

(It's late and I'm tired, but I'm considering doing a follow-up post about this, listing the 'arguments' that I got thrown at me for people who haven't had the misfortune to run across one of these bullies before. Anyone interested--would that be helpful?)

(Upon getting feedback, I realize I neglected the role of microaggressions--things that aren't meant cruelly but are still hurtful. Here's a site with a lot of examples of them: http://www.microaggressions.com/)