Inner Workings discussion

I wrote this a while back... after getting in touch with people I never thought I'd ever hear from again on Facebook. (I could have gone on, but the conclusion is kind of lame because I don't like writing long pieces for online reading.)

“That was the pattern of school life — a continuous triumph of the strong over the weak. Virtue consisted in winning: it consisted in being bigger, stronger, handsomer, richer, more popular, more elegant, more unscrupulous than other people — in dominating them, bullying them, making them suffer pain, making them look foolish, getting the better of them in every way. Life was hierarchical and whatever happened was right. There were the strong, who deserved to win and always did win, and there were the weak, who deserved to lose and always did lose, everlastingly.”
--George Orwell, from Such, Such Were the Joys (1946)


I remember being told many times that my ass would be kicked after school in the parking lot, usually by one of the same three girls. It never actually happened, of course, but I remember being terrified at the time – what would I do if I were in a real fight?! I was tiny. I didn’t even know how to throw a punch. What’s amusing to me now is that they were probably thinking the exact same thing.

My friends, who claimed they would stand beside me should my ass receive an actual kick, were neither the strongest nor the weakest. We were all smack dab in the middle. Picked on by some, threatened, jeered at; but in turn, there were others at whom we jeered, threatened and picked on.

It’s a story as old as time –and there is no place quite like high school for this story to be told, when personalities are forming, when we are trying to figure out where we fit in, when the need for acceptance causes definitive pain.

On the one hand, we have all grown up. We have let go, moved on, become adults in our own rite. On the other, buried deep is a part of us that is still unsure of ourselves, allowing each cruel word, each threat, each glare and (most importantly) each rejection to cut us deeply.

For most people, there was never any resolution for these feelings; there is never any closure. I couldn’t find an ex-boyfriend and apologize for ditching him at prom. He couldn’t find me and tell me he was sorry for telling the whole football team we had sex.

Fast-forward 20 years...

Welcome to your never-ending reunion. Put on a nametag, grab a drink and peruse the tagged photos of yourself.

When I first joined MySpace and Facebook, I had this habit of apologizing for every bad thing I had done, for every nasty little snipe I had ever taken at someone. I had some moments that I’m really embarrassed to admit it was actually me talking. (Self-awareness is a bitch.)

What I found out was that most people didn’t remember that awful shit at all. Most people remembered me as pretty much… the person I am now. And anyone who was mean to me, well, I’m pretty sure that if they remember it, it’s not what they want to be remembered for, and I’m happy to let it go – glass houses and stones, you know.

Talking to old friends isn’t all -- my kids have helped me, too. Because once you have to explain anything to someone in three sentences of ten words or less it really helps clarify what you believe.

I am trying to raise empathic children who care about other people. So, what do I tell them when they come home with yet another story about Kristin or Quinn saying horrible things to them?

“I know it’s hard to understand, but the way those kids talk to you guys says a lot more about how they feel about themselves than anything else.”

I think mean people are made by their environment, by circumstances, by the horrible things that can happen to us as we try to grow up in a crazy world. Very few people are actually born mean in that sociopathic kind of way.

If we can’t have any empathy for that, even when the ill effects are turned on us, how can we claim to be compassionate people?

Yeah I really can see that. I have done the same, been bullied and in turn, bully others. For every measure dealt to me, I kept cringing, remembering dealing the same to someone with less rights, less stronger, less smarter. I think that's just human nature, or a mechanism for survival.

This is a great piece Shel. I've always been the observer. Never on either end of the bully system. Empathy is important. But for some kids learning to stand up for themselves is even more so. One of my grandsons is such a nice kid. Always letting others have their way. Being bullied and making excuses for the bully. I finally had to have several conversations with him about standing up for himself and the importance of getting his way. At some point I was so mad at him for taking a particularly bad piece of bullying that I actually told him he needed to be the asshole sometimes. Everyone needs to be able to say No, I want, I need, Too bad for you, get out of my face. He cried. But then we started practicing. I'm glad I got to him before middle school because he has used these skills. It'll always be a tough world.

Don't forget to teach him how to fake being friendly until the bully goes home and falls asleep. Then break in his or her house, use duct tape to strap him to the bed and then hit him hard. Trust me, he or she won't see that coming.

Ah yes revenge. I don't want to go there right now.

Back to the point, I think, of the story. How much do you think you need to apologize for? Especially from your teenage years. Part of growing up is making mistakes and behaving poorly and Sitting around waiting for apologies just makes you a bitter resentful person. Besides I think learning to forgive yourself is underrated.

The only revenge I ever took was verbal. (5'3" and 110 lbs isn't exactly a physical threat.) I was pretty good at the jabs. I do feel badly about that because I don't like hurting people. Although back then I did, I think. It was my way of managing how much I was hurting (hence, the maxim "what those kids say to you says more about how they feel about themselves..." seems true to me.)

I don't know how much I really needed to apologize for... I just felt the need to. There were a few people, an ex-boyfriend in particular, who accused me of shredding his heart into tiny little pieces and not caring that I did. I always thought we were not serious and it was just a summer fling. Personally I think he was trying to cover for his own behavior and make sure that by making me feel badly, he didn't have to take responsibility for stupid things he did.

I also learned early on not to ever expect real apologies... most people, even when told, even if they agree in principle, still don't think they've done anything wrong.

Finally read this, intermittently smiling and squirming. Nicely observed, powerful stuff, Shel. I've grabbed a drink, but have purposely smudged the Sharpie ink on my name tag.

You are kind, dear sir.

If you smudge the ink, it makes the popular kids wonder... "who's that guy, where can I get one" just like in Grease 2.

Sigh. Well, no one saw that movie, though, did they. Want to see Michelle Pfeiffer sing?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2hv_cU...

haha I saw Grease 2. Don't miss High School.