Sticks and stones

He was a genuinely nice kid, smart and really good at soccer. Of course, this meant that the only way to get at him was for things -- a nervous tic -- that were out of his control. An apparent weakness we opportunistic 7th graders mercilessly ragged on him for. And as he ran down the busy street at recess with the PE teacher/recess monitor ambling after him, her whistle jangling, I felt a stab of regret -- was I responsible for this? If he gets hit by a car, will I go to jail? Is my life over? Am I some monster? Granted, at the time, my fears were rooted in self preservation, but looking back on it now, it was a defining experience in how I interacted with my classmates from that point on. The recess monitor finally caught up to my classmate as he crumpled to his knees, sobbing at the street corner. I wasn't put in jail and neither were my co-conspirators, all we got was a week inside during recess.

I've felt myself reminiscing more and getting more and more disheartened lately as I read about the tragic suicides of teenagers (here here) who were quite literally bullied to death. Some blame the rise of social media for this spate of deaths, and while it's a significant factor, bullying has been a staple of teenage life long before Myspace, texting, and Facebook. That many of my friends state categorically that middle/high school was a generally horrible, awkward experience suggests that bullying is also not a limited phenomenon. And while it's dangerous to make broad proclamations, I'll make one here: bullies almost never succeed in real life, but the bullied rise to be some of the most successful people around. Of course, there are exceptions, and it's imperfect to label someone either a "bully" or "bullied" since the Venn diagram of the two very much overlap, but think about some of the most successful people: President Obama, Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, almost any artist -- you think these people were the most popular kids growing up? Think again.

This post is more about embracing quirkiness than it is a prescription to defeat bullies. It's cold comfort to tell someone being bullied that it'll all get better, that high school is a bad time for almost everyone, that you'll show those bullies a thing or two at the 10 year reunion when you're a successful engineer, designer, artist, what have you and they're working a dead-end job somewhere, but it's true. Thing is, the only way to discover this is through another cliche, through experience. More broad generalizations/advice forthcoming: bullies are insecure in their social positions, in how others perceive them. This is why they listen to the "cool" music that "cool" kids listen to. They dress in that same manufactured cool that everyone else does too. If you ever find yourself looking down at your dorky Chucks as you listen to Bavarian hymnals, don't fret -- turn it up! Embrace the quirk.

Remember that curiosity and wide-ranging interests will open up so many more doors in your life than will bland, cowardly conformity. Even though conformity might get a childhood bully into the board room (ahem, Goldman Sachs), they won't be happy, they won't live a fulfilling life, and they'll be constantly looking over their shoulders for you -- they'll covet your independence and originalism. They might even try to buy your ideas and market them as their own, but the public can see through that fraud.

My best advice is to seek out those who share the same interests as you. Start a chess club. Or a World of Warcraft club. Or spend an afternoon digging through dusty crates of vinyl records. Life is better with people to experience it with.

In 10 years, you can have the last laugh. My bullied classmate (after some stellar facebook sleuthing) is now getting a masters degree in mechanical engineering. His bullies...are not. Ha ha, indeed.