my personal story of a lifetime of bullying
Today is National Bully Prevention Day. I find it coincidental that we wear blue to prevent bullies, and we likewise wear blue to make others aware of Autism. I don't need the Office of National Statistics to tell me that 100% of those affected by Autism have been bullied at least once in their lives.
However, I also don't need any official statistics to know that any individual can be the victim of cruelty at one time or another.
Along this journey that we have been chosen to walk with Hunter, I’ve had to deal with strangers staring, judging, giving me their unsolicited advice. Hunter used to take swim lessons with another little boy with Autism, and they shared the pool with an overly energetic aqua aerobics instructor. You know, the kind that you truly need to put your headphones on in order to avoid knocking her in the pool.
During their swim lesson, the lifeguard blew his whistle, and jumped in the pool. Being that there were only 3 total people in the pool (our two boys and this instructor's client), our friend's dad and I sat there confused. What was happening?
As he swam over to our swim instructor who now had acted lifeless in the pool (a random training drill), the aerobics instructor took it upon herself to rush over to Hunter in a panic, screaming, "You need to get out of the pool! Get out of the pool! Let's Go!! Elbow, elbow, knee, knee..." over and over again. Hunter just stood at the edge of the pool in a state of confusion- the instructor he was making his way towards was now lifeless, being pulled out of the water and placed on a board. As soon as I heard her tone I tried to beat her over to him, and as I got closer, I saw her lean down close to him and bark in a sergeant tone, "GET OUT OF THE WATER!!!!!" I walked up to Hunter, pulled him out of the pool, and looked her in the eyes and said, "Don't EVER yell at my son like that again. He has Autism-he doesn't understand what is happening right now."
She stopped and jumped on the defense- she had no idea I was his mother- and said, "Well good thing you were here! He would have to get out in an emergency situation!" And then she started to talk about how he has to follow directions, etc- and I told her, "Mamm, I was a lifeguard for 6 years. I understand that drills have to take place. But you also have to display a sense of calmness for the patrons, not yell at them."
I walked over with Hunter to the benches, grabbed his towel, and just as I turned around, saw the instructor talking to her client and knew she was badmouthing me just by looking at her body language. Her client was just staring at me, closed mouth, shaking her head. So I went and stood right in direct line with them- and as she continued to shake as her instructor walked away, I asked her, "Do you have a problem?" Rude I know- but I couldn't help myself.
She jumped out of the pool and hustled over to me, "It seems like you were giving my instructor a hard time over there." I told her yes, I was, because she was not to yell at my child. She then went off on me for a few minutes, with the main points highlighted below:
"You are 'disservicing' your son by overprotecting him."
"You are only hurting him in the process."
"He needs to learn to listen to authority at some point."
I calmly explained that she had no clue about what my son has been through, that he has a disability that affects his cognitive functioning, and that I wanted her to go home and think about our conversation before she judges a parent the next time. She didn't care- she continued to rant about my poor parenting skills and my judgment skills.
And then she walked away.
I was crying by then, and it turned into an emotional ball when I saw Hunter and his friend completely upset because they thought something had happened to their swim instructor.
Even today, as I type this, pounding the keys, my blood boils.
She attempted to strip me of my God given title of "Mommy."
Autism will NEVER beat us- but ignorance will.
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There are times when I completely regret something that has come out of my mouth. We all react to situations in different ways- whether we go into a state of defensiveness, or a state of inconsolable tears- we are all different individuals and are fighting silent battles daily.
I teach my speech students the difference between a "talking bubble" and a "thinking bubble." How I wish the adults in their lives would utilize the "thinking bubble" with more reverence, as some do not realize that little eyes and ears are watching and listening.
We need to teach our children that kindness IS cool. Kindness is NOT something that can be taken away.
From the child nervous about his new glasses, to the teenager with acne, to the adult with anxiety-- sometimes one does not realize the impact their words will have on this individual.
I can't remember what I had for breakfast some mornings, but I can picture and hear all of the scenarios described above with intense accuracy. I still struggle with compliments and often make excuses for them- as if I am not deserving of praise. These memories unfortunately shaped some of my personal weaknesses, and I have spent the last several years really trying to find myself again.
The sad part of the scenarios described above is that they are minuscule to the intense bullying that others face. My anxiety took every situation and intensely magnified it, but there are some children, as well as adults, that have to endure daily bullying, misconceptions, and cruelty.
Life is cyclic, and now I depend on the faith that I once shunned to help me during my moments of weakness. "Father, forgive them, as they do not know what they are doing."
It took me 41 years to realize that instead of allowing them to hurt me, I had to pray for them- which is a hard pill of humility to swallow. I pray that our future generation will learn that in a world where you can be anything, being kind wins.
However, I also don't need any official statistics to know that any individual can be the victim of cruelty at one time or another.
I grew up as a Cradle Catholic. I attended private grade school, at the parish where my
father was the Director of Music. We
never missed Mass, sat in the front row, and were dressed to perfection with
our ringlets from the nighttime sponge curlers.
I used to be teased about my faith, as others would call me, “Sister
Erika,” and make fun of our weekly church commitment. I started to feel embarrassed about my family. I remember running one day on the playground
far away and shouting, “Oh my God,” one of the “cool” phrases at the private
school. It didn’t feel good, and I
didn’t do it again. Instead of being prideful of my beliefs, I attempted to hide my desire to praise the one who died for our sins. My anxiety started at a young age.
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My parents
decided to send my sister and I to the local public high school, where I knew
one out of 2,000 students. I was
determined to fit in. I wanted to be an athlete, a
scholar, a musician- I wanted to do it all. I participated in swim team, was a pitcher on the softball team, sang and danced in the show
choir, received top honors at state for my classical piano performances, had
roles in the theater performances, and was a member of the National Honors Society. As perfect as this sounds, I was not really
part of the “in-crowd.” I couldn't believe it when my name was on the final ballot for Homecoming Queen. Did people seriously nominate me, the girl with the bangs and the braces?? Much to my surprise, I was announced as Queen at our school assembly. I couldn't believe it- had I truly been accepted? I arrived to the dance, giddy with excitement, had a dress to match my crown- and as we were standing in line to be announced at the dance, my nerves got the best of me. One of the popular, handsome guys in our class turned around, flashed me a smile, and I thought, OK, I'm going to make it.
But he soon stripped away any confidence I had found to walk in front of the entire school. He looked at me and said, "You know you were only voted Homecoming Queen because you're nice to everyone."
And he turned back around.
To this day, I feel embarrassed of what was once my teenage dream. He completely stripped me of my honor.
And worst of all, it reaffirmed in my mind that kindness, faith, and love are NOT cool. Was I worthy of a crown? Should the honor have gone to one of the other girls? Did I even want a crown that somehow stood for being popular by being cruel?
********************************************************************************************************
My junior year of college, I applied to be a campus freshman orientation leader. I still was suffering from anxiety, but it was a great chance for me to lead. I loved my training, and met a large group of new friends. On the last day of camp, I was hanging with one of the guys who I had worked closely with during the group breakout sessions. He looked at me and said, "I have to tell you- you're so much nicer than I ever thought you would be." At that time, I was into really into fashion, sporting the latest trends, and like every college girl, looking for their future husband. :) I was also attempting to take care of my outer appearance to hide the broken spirit inside.
Was he telling me that trendy, put together girls can't be nice? Was I supposed to be a snob because of the way I looked? I started the year dressing down and "forgetting" to wear makeup. I was once again stripped of my self because of the misconception and message of a peer.
********************************************************************************************************
When Peter and I were engaged, I was again ecstatic to start our lives together. My modern day prince had chosen me, and I couldn't believe someone as talented, intelligent, athletic, and incredibly handsome had chosen me! At a gathering with a large group of friends, one of Peter's college acquaintances and I had a chance to sit down and talk. I wanted to get to know everyone, make sure they knew he would be taken care of, and wanted the world to see how much I loved him. As I smiled and answered his question about my excitement of moving to Texas, it quickly faded as he took away my confidence.
"You do know that some of us think he is only marrying you now because he doesn't want to move to Texas alone, right?" He went on to tell me how Peter could have any girl, and I was just the one at the convenient time.
My heart sunk. As much as I tried to take away these feelings of disbelief, hurt, and sadness, I couldn't erase the thought that it could possibly be true. Up until this past year when I experienced a powerful weekend of renewal through our church, I doubted his love at some weak moments. It had caused intermittent trouble in our marriage, due to my anxiety,
self-consciousness, and feelings of inadequacy.
Along this journey that we have been chosen to walk with Hunter, I’ve had to deal with strangers staring, judging, giving me their unsolicited advice. Hunter used to take swim lessons with another little boy with Autism, and they shared the pool with an overly energetic aqua aerobics instructor. You know, the kind that you truly need to put your headphones on in order to avoid knocking her in the pool.
During their swim lesson, the lifeguard blew his whistle, and jumped in the pool. Being that there were only 3 total people in the pool (our two boys and this instructor's client), our friend's dad and I sat there confused. What was happening?
As he swam over to our swim instructor who now had acted lifeless in the pool (a random training drill), the aerobics instructor took it upon herself to rush over to Hunter in a panic, screaming, "You need to get out of the pool! Get out of the pool! Let's Go!! Elbow, elbow, knee, knee..." over and over again. Hunter just stood at the edge of the pool in a state of confusion- the instructor he was making his way towards was now lifeless, being pulled out of the water and placed on a board. As soon as I heard her tone I tried to beat her over to him, and as I got closer, I saw her lean down close to him and bark in a sergeant tone, "GET OUT OF THE WATER!!!!!" I walked up to Hunter, pulled him out of the pool, and looked her in the eyes and said, "Don't EVER yell at my son like that again. He has Autism-he doesn't understand what is happening right now."
She stopped and jumped on the defense- she had no idea I was his mother- and said, "Well good thing you were here! He would have to get out in an emergency situation!" And then she started to talk about how he has to follow directions, etc- and I told her, "Mamm, I was a lifeguard for 6 years. I understand that drills have to take place. But you also have to display a sense of calmness for the patrons, not yell at them."
I walked over with Hunter to the benches, grabbed his towel, and just as I turned around, saw the instructor talking to her client and knew she was badmouthing me just by looking at her body language. Her client was just staring at me, closed mouth, shaking her head. So I went and stood right in direct line with them- and as she continued to shake as her instructor walked away, I asked her, "Do you have a problem?" Rude I know- but I couldn't help myself.
She jumped out of the pool and hustled over to me, "It seems like you were giving my instructor a hard time over there." I told her yes, I was, because she was not to yell at my child. She then went off on me for a few minutes, with the main points highlighted below:
"You are 'disservicing' your son by overprotecting him."
"You are only hurting him in the process."
"He needs to learn to listen to authority at some point."
I calmly explained that she had no clue about what my son has been through, that he has a disability that affects his cognitive functioning, and that I wanted her to go home and think about our conversation before she judges a parent the next time. She didn't care- she continued to rant about my poor parenting skills and my judgment skills.
And then she walked away.
I was crying by then, and it turned into an emotional ball when I saw Hunter and his friend completely upset because they thought something had happened to their swim instructor.
Even today, as I type this, pounding the keys, my blood boils.
She attempted to strip me of my God given title of "Mommy."
Autism will NEVER beat us- but ignorance will.
***************************************************************************************************************
I teach my speech students the difference between a "talking bubble" and a "thinking bubble." How I wish the adults in their lives would utilize the "thinking bubble" with more reverence, as some do not realize that little eyes and ears are watching and listening.
We need to teach our children that kindness IS cool. Kindness is NOT something that can be taken away.
From the child nervous about his new glasses, to the teenager with acne, to the adult with anxiety-- sometimes one does not realize the impact their words will have on this individual.
I can't remember what I had for breakfast some mornings, but I can picture and hear all of the scenarios described above with intense accuracy. I still struggle with compliments and often make excuses for them- as if I am not deserving of praise. These memories unfortunately shaped some of my personal weaknesses, and I have spent the last several years really trying to find myself again.
The sad part of the scenarios described above is that they are minuscule to the intense bullying that others face. My anxiety took every situation and intensely magnified it, but there are some children, as well as adults, that have to endure daily bullying, misconceptions, and cruelty.
Life is cyclic, and now I depend on the faith that I once shunned to help me during my moments of weakness. "Father, forgive them, as they do not know what they are doing."
It took me 41 years to realize that instead of allowing them to hurt me, I had to pray for them- which is a hard pill of humility to swallow. I pray that our future generation will learn that in a world where you can be anything, being kind wins.
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