In 1974, I was a junior in a parochial high school. Academically, I was a good student and a member of the National Honor Society. I participated in extra-curricular activities, including forensics and chorus.
I was also the recipient of verbal and physical torment from several students we popularly refer to as bullies. In fact, I’d been receiving similar treatment from bullies in school for as long as I can remember. Over the years I’d made numerous complaints to authority figures. On occasions, the bullies were punished, but that frequently resulted in equally damaging repercussions to me. Most bullies have bully friends.
One day I made a complaint to the assistant principal about one bully’s constant shoving me in hallways. The bully was supposedly “disciplined”. The next day as I walked through the hallway at least ten guys “accidentally” knocked into me with such force that I experienced physical pain. While walking to my seat in the cafeteria an “unseen foot” tripped me. I crashed to the floor with my lunch tray and the eyes of several hundred laughing students came to rest on me. Needless to say I was humiliated. But I was also angry.
The next morning, determined to be push around no more, I took a loaded handgun to school. I wasn't looking for trouble. I didn't go searching for a bully to kill. I'd just reached the point where I couldn't take it anymore bullying, and the only thing that gave me any sense of empowerment was the loaded .22 caliber handgun in my pocket. Thankfully, I didn't have occasion to use it that day. Perhaps a higher power intervened.
Now, when I look back on that particular day and the circumstances that led me to the edge of a violent abyss, I can see why a particular chain of events brought me to that place. For years, I'd been assaulted and tormented. Authority figures did not correct the situation. My feelings were never validated. I did not feel safe. I had access to a weapon, and finally, I felt justified in defending myself. I'm not saying I was justified. I'm just saying – that's the way it was.
Whenever I think of violence in school, I can't shake the feeling that we must be clear with our children that “might does not always mean right”! I’m convinced one of the reasons Americans still have an uneasy feeling in their gut about the whole Vietnam experience is that it shattered the bubble on this belief. I’m equally convinced that we keep trying to deny it. Just because we’re strong and can exert a lot of muscle doesn’t make it right for us to do so. But I think we teach our kids it is!
When I think of this I’m reminded of a bumper sticker I've seen that says: “The West wasn’t won- it was stolen.” In the teaching of our country’s history we glorify the pioneer experience and the westward expansion. The reality was that settlers swept westward across lands that were inhabited by several million Native Americans and simply “moved in”. When the Natives retaliated against the settlers our government went to war with them, and eventually the “might” of the forces of our government won.
Today, if I drove my car out West, saw a nice plot of ground with a scenic view and decided that I wanted to “move in and set up shop”, there’s a very good chance I’d soon be staring down the barrel of some rancher’s Winchester. Or, I’d be sitting in a jail charged with trespassing. Few adults today would find my actions defensible, but how many would be so critical of the actions of the pioneers. We’d be touting the rancher’s right to defend his land, but do we teach that the Native Americans were justified in defending the invasion of their land with force? I don’t think so. There is an inconsistency in our teaching that children pick up on. It’s subtle to be sure, but children are masters at catching the subtle. It’s how they learn.
How does this relate to reducing school violence? The bully needs to know that “might does not make right”. Those children sitting around watching the bully need to know that “might does not make right” and the child who has been the recipient of the bully’s might needs to receive our validation of their feeling that “might does not make right”.
For starters, we must be more up front and critical of the fact that might doesn’t make right and admit to examples in our nation’s history where people in this country were wrong for believing so. We’ve had a long history of using our might. Our history of admitting mistakes has been far shorter.
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