The Eight Punch Rule

[whiteadelphi]

When I was a child, I was susceptible to bullying.  Well.  I was very intelligent and a little younger than everyone, and still let my grandmother dress me, and didn't have the social grace to know that a) becoming the favourite of a teacher was automatically a stigma, whether you intended it or not, and b) keeping your head down and ignoring people because they said mean things was not, despite every parent's advice, the best way to get them to stop.    It encourages them.  Because they'll keep going until they get a response.

No.  Didn't work that way.  It's the same reason you never react to someone approaching you on the street by bowing your head and scurrying off as if you hadn't heard them.  Children are little bastards.  Those guys on the street are malicious little fucks that never grew up.



Anyway, I tried to ignore them, and as such was bullied all the way up until late Year 9, when most of us were 13ish and just getting to that stage of knowing what malice could do to someone's self-esteem.  And as home life was anything but happy, you might say I was a quiet and withdrawn child.

Year 9 Science class.  When our teacher took us down to the oval for a science experiment (something about mixing chemical A with chemical B, I don't know) and then told the class to head back for the science room and he'd catch up.  I immediately turned and did as I was told, and was in front of everyone.  And there were pine cones littering the ground, and some little shit decided it would be fun to pick one up and pitch it at my head.  Others thought it was funny and joined in.   And within a few moments, I had a whole class of people ditching things at me and calling insults and laughing, because I never once looked back at them. Even when the damn things cracked into the back of my head, I just kept walking.  They weren't worth my time, right?

So I soaked it all.  I'm very good at soaking things.  Didn't really listen (except I did) and didn't look around (except it hurt - a lot - on many levels) and thought, it will stop when we get back to the classroom.   And I didn't say a word, and I didn't react.

And when we returned, the teacher wandered through, blithely ignorant (I hope) of the class mood, and told us to take our seats and he'd be back in a few minutes, and vanished. 

So the mockery continued, although they'd run out of pinecones.  I went back to my seat and stared at my bag, and considered just picking it up and leaving, because the teacher had just walked out and wouldn't be back for a while.  And there were people dancing around me, slinging insults and shoving at my back, because they were so entertained that I was ignoring them, and finally (ignore, I'm ignoring them) some boy jumped up onto the science bench and yelled "Try this!"  and kicked me in the head.

Tried to, anyway.

I caught his foot.  And yanked him down off the bench hard enough that he crashed into the floor.  There was a lot of uproar on that one; the sort of sound a crowd makes when, you know, a cheerleader has just flung her top off and run across the oval on live television ... I didn't give him time to recover.  Pulled him back off the ground by his shirt - enough force that I ripped it from collar to stomach - and punched him in the head.  Eight times, in absolute calm, clinical precision, counting it off like a drum beat.

Then I dropped him on the ground, picked up my bag and walked out while the room was still screaming.  Just padded out like I was heading home.  I don't think I made a sound.

Well ...until two minutes later when I was sobbing so hard as I rounded a hallway the school nurse flung open her door with great alarm and dragged me inside, but those kids didn't have to know that.

Nobody at school ever touched me again.  Verbal harassment and ostracism, yes.  But that stopped a year later when I learned how to stare at people until they shut up and went away.  Come to think of it, all my best survival and street tactics were learnt at school.

There is a reason I'm posting this.  I think it comes under the heading absolute limit  (or maybe, in a geeky way, limit break.  Boom!).  And the certain, calm knowledge that I don't have to sit there and take some things.

I know what I'm responsible for.  And I know when I assume too much blame. I've done much thinking. 

I guess what it comes down to is: there's only so much I am willing to ignore.

You can take from that what you will.

Comments

[zig_zag123]

(Just so our icons can match)

School is a horrible, horrible instution. I wish just igoring them really worked. I have this bad habit of crying when REALLY angry and people think I'm crying because I'm sad, so I can never really be overly intemidating. I wish I had hit the kid who tormented me in my highschool. I nearly did when he cut my hair, but I already being threatened with detention because I had sworn.

School sucks, but I like to believe that it's over and only now and then you have to deal with fuck-tards who still think they're at school.

*hugs* I hope you scared that kid for life.

[dcs745.livejournal.com]

I think there is such a thing a serendipity.

I've just come online because I was sitting at home CRYING because it just HIT me... that I'm still giving my school bullies pay back after 12 years. And maybe THAT is part and parcel of my current depression.

I'm still SAYING the things I'm scared of other people saying, so that *I* can be the first one to say it. I got MY bullies to stop by starting to bully myself. They didn't have to bother, then. And I'm STILL BLOODY doing it!

I was bullied at school, at University and into my first job. It didn't stop coming from other people until I was nearly 22. And even though it doesn't happen any longer, I still EXPECT it to.

I wish I'd EVER fought back; ever decided that I didn't DESERVE that shit... and now I don't know how to turn that around.

The two things that stick with me MOST? My Headmistress telling me it wouldn't happen if I didn't "insist on being eccentric" and the Geography lesson where, when I went to the bin to change my ink cartridge (next to the teacher's desk) three girls (we were all about 13 at the time) pinned me to the wall and took it in turns to bash me with the whiteboard eraser and while the teacher carried on with the lesson regardless.

I wish I'd learned to FIGHT. Is it too late now?

*HUGS* I hope your absolute limit this time did not result in crying for you and torn clothing and bruises for the culprit.

(I still cannot believe you posted about this at THIS time. *shakes head*)

[(Anonymous)]

*personally hoping for "-scarred- that kid for life"*
a -kick-? what, was he stupid?!

some folks need to learn the hard way. others don't.

(learned the stare-down at 11 or 12 years old, myself. teachers and admins hated it. kids learned faster.)

*good karma*

[shiegra.livejournal.com]

I have to say....he absolutely deserved it. There are some things you just shouldn't have to put up with.

When I hit high school-which was the year before last-I was sexually harassed, which made no sense since back then I virtually wore tents year round. Then I learned to get nasty. Sometimes there's no other recourse than to just scare the hell out of them.

[natsuko1978.livejournal.com]

YES! I've never known why parents say that. "Just ignore them, you'll be the bigger person. Don't stoop to their level." The only language some people understand is their own level. Violence if necessary.

I'm so GLAD you gave that kid "what for". :D I like everyone else I hope he learned his lesson.

*HUGS* I take it however that someone else has - today - pushed you to your limit and hope that you are feeling okay at the moment. *HUGS* I hope THEY learned THEIR lesson too.

Let me know if you wanna talk.

[some-scribbles.livejournal.com]

I wasn't there when this happened. I didn't hear about it until after. My youngest brother was a mush growing up, and one day after church a punk his own age wrapped his hands around my brother's neck and started to strangle him. My middle brother saw what was happening and grabbed the punk off, pulling our youngest brother to safety. My dad heard about it, spoke with the kid's parents, and told my middle brother that if anything like that ever happened ever again, he was to break the punk's nose. There is a limit.

Those kids at school missed out not knowing you, and it will be to their detriment. You did right drawing a line and enforcing it.

[groozy-del.livejournal.com]

*hugs*

Karma got the person who pushed me around in primary school.

I hope Karma can help you out.

[colibrigurl.livejournal.com]

...you are my hero. Honestly! I had to endure the ridicule of heartless, mindless brats until I was in 8th grade (when my family life was starting to go down hill and I just didn't seem to notice what my peers thought of me by that point). It still hurts sometimes to realize that I let them get to me instead of trying to fight it off (mentally, I'd would have gotten my ass kicked if I tried it physically). But you rock. Totally and utterly, rock!

[da-staplerthief.livejournal.com]

*smiles brightly* So I'll dial two zeroes and press the third when the person who brought on this post opens their mouth again, shall I?

[sanity-escape.livejournal.com]

oh honey...

*hugs*

i'm terribly sorry you hard to go through the evils of school, and while i recognize it is a part of what defines your character it still makes me wish i could just hug you in the physical world.

i want to cry for you.

*hugs*

[procurerfaith.livejournal.com]

*is still metaphysically cheering you on in the corner and wishing she had been able to do the same to her bullies (not that yours was a situation to inspire envy - no, not at all)* *hugs* Let me know if I can help... :)

[kay-cricketed.livejournal.com]

*shudders* Kids can be so cruel. I'm always surprised to find that often I look back and think about how much worse they were than most adults (save, of course, for the ones that never grew up). What happened to you was ugly. And if I had their addresses, I'd show them exactly what they could do with their pine cones.

I viciously approve of you taking the situation into your own hands-- literally. I believe this lessons, as well. Some people have to have it enforced in this way. That's just how warped some people are, and I'm glad you found a way to at least have some measure of peace your last years.

(This brings back bleegh memories for myself. Only instead of pinecones, I had the brats throwing worms at me-- it sounds stupid but I've had an intense phobia of worms for as long as I remember, and to this day refuse to touch/look at/step near any-- or playing malicious tricks. I spent most of my recess times being chased. BUT IT'S BECAUSE WE'RE AWESOME AND HAVE BIG BRAINS. *nods sagely* Once I puzzled that out, I felt a lot better. Also, most of them are pregnant or lose at football now.)

Anyway, whatever's caused this post... Yeah. You don't have to take it. You don't deserve to be treated like this. If you have to enforce it, do it. You've my full support.

*hugs* <3

ignoring is not the same as ignorance, punk

[maelorin]

i didn't ignore the bullying, so much as the bullies.

once i learnt that i could demolish a six pack of fwits, i took to pretending the shits didn't exist. for a while anyway.

i had to pull your stunt a few times through primary and high school. at least once per school. sometimes more - some kids are just that thick.

of all the moments, one i recall clearly was year 10 - last few compulsory phys ed classes. ran out of "sports to be crap at for four weeks", so the teacher invited us to fill in the last half dozen classes by "showing off our favourite sport". the class pretty boy brought along his karate instructor and his shiny new black belt. lots of oohs as the two showed off with practised routines.

i offered to have a go. smirks and giggles ensued. [i was hopless at team sports, and considered well uncoordinated.]

i got up, in my tracksuit, and he 'explained' the rules to me. i took a few taps to warm up, then began avoiding him. after about three or four misses, he started to get pissed. he realised i was playing with him. a few moments later he was angry and taking full swings. i figured that was my cue.

he took a step in to close in on me, and i moved across him, took his punching wrist in hand and brought him to the floor. not once did i hit him.

after that, all but one really retarded bully backed off.

pretty boy had a shiny new black belt, but i was training with his instructor's instructor. my little country club held two thirds of the national champions, and several regionals as well. his had a reputation for brutality. i didn't have black because it was too expensive. but i trained with the senior blacks, and was training classes myself.

[all bullies are cowards.]

[maelorin]

mine suggested i take up karate. not so much to hold my own, but to reduce the effort needed to put the suckers down.

[some of my early schools were quite violent. you couldn't ignore the gangs.]