My Bullies

I've written before about Bullies.  But recently I read a story by my dear friend Jenny North about bullying.  Read that HERE if you'd like.

Like many of us, I was bullied as a child.  I was very frail and didn't like most of the games the neighborhood kids liked playing (like tackle football on a macadam parking lot.)  So I was called a lot of names.  My older brother was also a particular target for their torture as well, and I was tormented just for being his younger sibling.

I wanted to write about MY bullies, in hopes that maybe it will let allow me perhaps to forgive them.  Forgiveness has never been my strong suit.

My first REAL bully (aside from the neighborhood kids, who really weren't THAT physical, comparatively)  was a kid named Vinnie.  Yes that's his real name.  Vinnie was two grades ahead of me in elementary school, and took an immediate dislike to me for whatever reason.  Whenever possible at recess, he would torture me, and if possible beat me to the ground.  I spent outdoor recesses trying to keep track of where on the playground he was, so I could steer clear.  As he was a couple of grades ahead, he was gone when I reached fourth grade, and by the time I reached junior high he had other things on his mind than beating up scrawny me.

Vinnie was big and strong as a child and grew to a monstrous size as a teen.  He became a star football player, and would've been recruited by division one schools if he hadn't pinched a nerve in his neck, which ended his football career.  He graduated, and I have no idea what happened to him after.

Target?

Another bully I have the whole story.  His name was Tim.  Tim took over Vinny's bullying duties somewhere in the middle of elementary school and kept going through middle school.  Tim was one grade ahead of me, and was also a big kid.  He had olive skin, squinty eyes and a round face.  Straight black hair, parted to his right.  And he was powerful.  He lived on the same street as my best friend growing up, Dr. Dave.  At first his torturing me was because I was my brother's sibling.  He would throw acorns and rocks at me whenever he saw me.  As my cub scout troop also met on that street, I couldn't attend without an incident.  So I stopped going to cub scouts.  The scout master called my parents to see what was up and I told the truth.  And Tim got in trouble.  And that's when the torture really began.

He would seek me out for beatings.  He found out where I lived and on many a night, especially in winter, I'd come home after finishing my paper route to have him jump me from the shadows, knock me down and beat me until he got tired,  Tim is the reason I started practicing martial arts- to be able to fight back.  After a while, I learned enough about anatomy and where to hit, that he started feeling my defensive punches.  Yes, I started aiming low.  Know what I mean.  And over time, he started leaving me alone.

Tim contracted leukemia his junior year of high school and quickly wasted away.  He died in pain.  And I was very glad to hear it.  His girlfriend posted a poem in that year's yearbook saying what a gentle soul he was.  I was so angry, I tore out that page and burned it, hoping he went straight to hell..


There was a guy I worked with at GW who tried to browbeat me and bully me despite being a full six inches shorter than me.  Unfortunately, he was my boss, and I had to take it.  Until one I day I didn't.  I went straight to the big boss with dates and times and an anger close to homicidal.  And the bully was no longer my boss.

There will always be bullies in our lives.  As I've written before, the reason I have such a visceral hatred of the GOP is I see them as bullies.  All white, rich men who enjoy picking on those weaker than themselves... upon those they think can't fight back.  And, dear readers, myself and my fellow transpeople are their current targets.  Bathroom bills, which they call "religious freedom."  Bullies always have an excuse, don't they?  "We were just messin' around."    They want to torture us.

They want people like me to disappear.  And they are organized.  They are Strong.

I stopped being a victim some time ago.  I learned to fight bullies, even if it means fighting dirty- because that's how THEY fight.

Ever see "Christmas Story?"  In it, Ralphie says there are bullies, toadies, and the nameless rabble of victims."  And these bullies have toadies.

Their toadies are transpeople who vote the bullies into office.  Who support them.  Urge them on.  As I wrote before, they're like Jews for Hitler, hoping that they won't be deported too.  And they died just as quickly in the gas chambers.

These quislings either don't understand what they're doing or don't care.  So how do you fight them?

The same way you fight these other bullies.  Education.  Educate the public as to who We are as a group.  That we really are human beings.  We must Educate the PUBLIC, NOT the bullies.  because they won't change.  Bullies never do.  There are no happy endings.  We have to flank them, and throw light on their hatred and tactics, and Hope it will be enough.

And their quislings?  Educate them as well, even though they don't listen to anything but their Fox News and hate speech.  They deny science.  They deny logic.  They won't listen to anyone they think is not as conservative as they are.  But they are our brothers and sisters, so we must try.

I have a friend who once postulated that conservative transpeople are the ones who can retreat easily into their male lives.. that they are never full timers as I am.  But I know that's not so.  I know of at least one FT transwoman who is devoutly a Fox news drone, though she denies being a republican.

Bullies derive their power from picking on those weaker than themselves.  We can't be weaker.  We must become stronger than they.  They outnumber us.  So we must do our best to gain allies.

And never give up hope.

Art:  David Mazzucchelli.