"It has been said that the gate of history turns on small hinges, and so do people's lives. The choices we make determine our destiny."
As I watch one sad news story after another of teenage lives being forever shattered by tragic choices, I think "but for the grace of God, there go I".
I grew up as the eldest of five children in a military family that moved on average every 2-3 years, forcing my siblings and I to attempt to make new friends every few years. The only constant relationships we had outside our immediate family was extended family which we were able to visit every few years, and to whom I will be forever grateful for their kindness.
When we finally moved back to my parent's home state of Utah and Davis County where my father's family was from, we looked forward to going "home" to where extended family lived and to "Zion", where we would finally be among large numbers of fellow LDS. We assumed we would be warmly welcomed. We were wrong.
Most neighbors and kids where we first lived in West Bountiful ostracized us. Some vandalized our rented house, teased, and tormented us. We'll never know all the reasons why. Maybe because we were considered outsiders by established residents. We had moved from Germany, where we had lived for the previous three years. Some of our clothing was different from what was considered "normal". We had no father in our home. (He was an Air Force pilot who had just been deployed to Southeast Asia during the Vietnam War. Maybe some neighbors were against the war, and held that against us. Who knows?
After my father's plane was shot down and he was reported Missing in Action, fortunately an opportunity opened up for us to buy a home in East Bountiful. Many of the neighbors and kids in our new neighborhood were kind and welcoming. What a contrast!
Even so, I had few, if any, really close friends during my final year of grade school. Fellow students would make fun of me for something as trivial as wearing snow boots that were different than other boys.
It seemed as if everyone but me had been briefed on the unwritten rules of what to wear/say/do to be socially accepted. I was outside the tribe. I frequently felt sad.
Then came Junior and Senior High, where I really struggled socially without older siblings to pave the way and teach me "the ropes." One or two kind friends eventually let me in on the secret that top shirt buttons were not to be buttoned unless wearing a tie and that only girls carried their books securely across their chest with one hand and that boys should carry them at their side with a straight arm. Who knew? Not me! I don't recall anyone using backpacks to carry books, since we had lockers. I'm uncertain whether school backpacks even existed back in the 60's.
Ironically, carrying your books "boy style" left one vulnerable to bullies sneaking up behind you and pulling your books backwards out of your hand and onto the hallway floor, often resulting in 3-ring notebooks popping open and papers scattering under the feet of throngs of students scurrying in both directions while the victim humiliatingly scrambled on all fours to retrieve trampled books and imminently due homework.
Another of the unpleasant realities of Secondary School was mandatory nude group showers after daily gym class. Seriously?! Apparently teachers weren't allowed (or didn't want) to patrol the locker rooms during this vulnerable time, so bullying and taunting were rampant, in addition to the everyday physical and emotional humiliation of showering with other teen boys who were much further along their puberty transformation. It didn't help that I looked like a bean pole with bad acne and bucked teeth(and later braces). I felt ashamed of my body.
Even though I was taller than most boys, my parents had drilled into me that engaging in avoidable fights was wrong, and that the inability of people to talk out their differences was the reason for the war that had robbed our family of our father. Therefore, I tried hard to attempt to figure out (mostly unsuccessfully) how to mend fences and make friends with fellow students who seemed to delight in tormenting me.
Therefore I was horrified one day at school when kids starting telling me that some kid I didn't even know was "calling me out" (challenging me to a fight) after school. My plan was to ignore the kid and walk home, as usual. However, when I left the school, there was a group of kids waiting for me and pushing me inside a circle of classmates with this kid waiting for me in the middle. When I tried to explain that I had no beef with this kid and did not want to fight, the crowd began taunting me and calling me "chicken". Only now do I realize that the same kids may have told the other guy that I was the one who called HIM out, as I only barely knew OF him and was unaware of him being a troublemaker. They wanted to see somebody get beat up and they wanted it now. This kind of thirst for blood sport by Junior High School students was completely foreign to me and I could not see any point in it. Besides, I did NOT want to be the one to get beat up to satisfy their desire for entertainment. I pushed my way out of the circle, embarrassed that my eyes were filling with tears and headed for the sidewalk, only to find my Mom waiting in the car at the curb to pick me up from school, something she rarely did. I gratefully got in the car, sobbing and begging her to quickly drive away. She refused and insisted I first tell her what was going on, all while classmates were congregated around the passenger window watching me cry while being rescued by my mother. Humiliating!
A constant barrage of put downs and bullying has a tremendous negative effect on one's self-esteem and emotional well being.
Senior High School wasn't any better. There seems to be a sizable minority of students (perhaps in all schools) that get their "kicks" and self-esteem boost by name calling, tormenting, belittling, and picking on those who the popular crowd ostracizes and ridicules. It's especially bad when you become the focus of negative attention of a group of bullies, or even just a group of peers who just want to qualify for a social status "upgrade" by making themselves look powerful by humiliating and tormenting people labeled as "less than". Even a pack of smaller hyenas can bring down a bigger lion by utilizing the tactic of some member of the pack attacking the prey from the rear whenever the surrounded lion turns to fight someone head on.
I recall an incident in gym class when some of us were sitting on accordioned wooden bleachers about 5 feet high that were pushed back against the wall while waiting for the gym teacher to show up. Some jerk with friends watching, laughing, and ready to back him up if he encountered any resistance, decided it would be fun to grab hold of my feet and terrorize me by trying to pull me off the bleacher. Had he succeeded, I would have fallen onto the hard wood floor and probably broken my tailbone. They had a firm hold of each foot and I could not do anything but hold onto the bleacher seat with all the strength my arms could muster. It was humiliating to be put into that frightening and embarrassing predicament while the rest of the class looked on and did and said nothing.
There was no such thing back then as "see something, say something". Students who informed on those breaking rules and causing trouble were labeled as "narcs" or tattletails, and futher demoted on the social ranking ladder, and more deeply ostracized.
There was no such thing as anti-bullying campaigns. It was swim or sink socially, and I wasn't the only one sinking. I was pretty sure there was something wrong with me and this message was reinforced repeatedly, nearly everyday.
I tried to figure out what I needed to do to transform myself and improve my likability. I wrote notes to my few close friends and a few trusted adults asking what they would recommend I do to improve myself and become a better person. I requested anonymous replies so that respondents would feel free to be completely honest. As I recall, few responded anonymously. I don't recall all the specific feedback, but the consensus advice I do remember was to be myself and try not to be so moody. This was not helpful, as being myself was NOT working. Considering that I felt like a fatherless, defective social outcast at school, I think I was doing pretty good to not feel moody ALL the time. Periodically my Mom, who felt overwhelmed raising five children by herself, would disappear for a week at a time. At those times, I felt like an orphan, as well.
So what? Why am I sharing all this very personal history? I am NOT seeking anyone's pity. I survived and have recovered and feel fairly good about myself.
I am VERY concerned for the rising generation. From my imperfect vantage point, it seems that it's even harder for today's youth than it was when I grew up. It seems that some teens are even crueler to one another than when I was that age. Now acts of bullying are recorded on smart phones and uploaded to social media where peers can view them over and over, while callously posting cruel and hurtful comments. Some victims cope by turning to mind numbing or feel-good drugs. Others spiral downward and inward, turning to suicide as an escape. Some retaliate in anger and revenge through violence towards their tormentors and those who stood by and did nothing while they suffered, silently consenting to their social isolation or banishment.
Did *I* ever contemplate suicide as a teen? Many times. Did I ever plan or attempt suicide? No, because even though I was hurting and was desperate to escape my miserable life, I knew my mother would be deeply hurt by my taking my own life and I did not want to add to her sorrows. I also was blessed with a strong religious upbringing that taught me that God loved me and that suicide was wrong.
Even though I was also taught that drugs were bad, I may have tried them if I'd been offered, but I never was. I held a lit cigarette in my hand once, but never inhaled (honest). I never intentionally drank alcohol, either, although a friend tricked me into drinking a small amount once.
Did I entertain revenge fantasies of payback for peers who tormented and bullied me? YES! Did I carry a small knife in my pocket for a while vowing I would use it to protect myself? Yes. However I never acted out on those musings. I did not want to end up in Juvenile Hall. Also, there were no such thing as shoot-em up video games or school shootings back then to put the thought into my mind and even though I was a hunter with access to rifles, I never even considered seriously harming anyone. It was not in my nature to do so.
There were also a handful of role model adults in my life who stood at or near key forks in the road of my life, who cared about me, set a good example, and influenced me to make more good choices than bad choices. They functioned as hinges that altered the course of my life.
However, many youth today are all too familiar with students their age acting out revenge fantasies and many do not have the blessing of having been taught a moral code that reinforces their innate sense of right and wrong. Some also lack good role models and are at risk of acting on strong youthful impulses.
Without the help of God, friends, and mentors, I could easily have made fateful choices that could have put me on a slippery slope to towards having the tax payers pay for my room and board for the rest of my life in a state prison.
Bottom line: IF you are in a position to function as a hinge and positively influence the youth of today and be there for them at the key crossroads of their young lives to help point the way and give them hope that their lives will probably improve after they graduate from secondary school, please make the sacrifices necessary to be one of the people for whom THEY will be forever grateful.
