BULLIES

Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone....and indeed I always hoped that I'd see you again. I've been working on my High School reunion with a few other guys that I hardly recognize, and got an email that John G. had died at age 54. I only knew John as another guy in a jacket and tie at our Catholic boy's school, but  I'd been thinking about him the last few years since there's been so much focus on bullying. You see John had big ears...and "they" called him "Dumbo"...the flying elephant. I remember being in an assembly when the hundreds of kids there started to chant " Dumbo Dumbo Dumbo when he walked in. While I never teased John, I never did anything to help him either. I was always trying to stay under the radar myself because I was terrified that if the focus ever landed on me, my lack of athletic ability, or my very secret fears about my sexuality would destroy me.

     Ray was my best friend and constant companion. Ray was funny, and could make almost everyone laugh, and being beneath his wing kept me safe. Ray was a little guy, and while he could stand up for himself...I was afraid to. If Ray teased anyone, it was never malicious or taken the wrong way. He kept us both safe, but even as a team we were no match for the big guys.

Once in awhile two boys would meet "up at the path" which was behind our school, and that was where they'd fight. Ray and I steered clear of the whole area...except once. A guy named Jeff had grown up with us...and was one of the few people that I'd disliked since the day I met him in grade school. One afternoon he challenged another boy to meet him at the path. Jeff was a nasty kid...knocked around by his Dad, and hateful with his Mother. The other boy was a gentle and really nice young kid...but I remember thinking that his Dad must have taught him to "fight back". To this day I shudder when I remember seeing Jeff punch him, and make his nose bleed. The other boy was no match for Jeff...and the fight ended with the boy wiping blood off his face with tears in his eyes. Why I went there that day I'll never know...but I never went again, and I've obviously never forgotten it.

My own terror at either being discovered as a "queer" or a guy who couldn't play sports kept me silent when John would turn red when he'd hear "Hey Dumbo", or while I stood by and watched a really delicate boy's face bleed. So I understand why sometimes kids are afraid to step in and stop other kids from bullying...and it still breaks my heart.

By the time I got to Duquesne and went through some horrendous hazing by my fraternity...I hung in there through that misery so that I could do something about it from the inside ( Kinda like why I'm still a Catholic ). I made a difference finally...and with my "power" as a brother, I was able to change a lot of what could be done to the pledges. They called me the " dove "...but by then I was beginning to stand up against the bullies. Too late for John, and too late for that boy on the path. I'm sorry that I couldn't help you guys.