How I Defeated My Racist Bully
By becoming an angry black girl
I’d been bullied for years in school, so much so that when someone was nice to me, I thought that they were trying to trick me. Yes, that is how bad it was. I went to school expecting to be bullied. Over the years, I built a rock-hard outer shell, a bit like a tortoise, to make sure the harsh words and actions didn’t affect me. I got on with my life. Some days the bullies would insult me to my face or chase me after school. Other days, they would leave me alone.
It was the start of a new school year and I was anxious as I approached the football field where all students and their teachers had been asked to congregate. I always hated the first day of school. After a summer in Africa where I hadn’t faced any racism, I was back again at a predominantly white school where I faced a lot of it.
I couldn’t sleep the night before.
As I approached the field, I saw my usual bullies — little white boys and girls that looked angelic but were in fact demonic. They were pointing at me, snickering loudly. I was hardly a few minutes into the new school year and they were already out to get me. It was as though they’d only been waiting for this moment. I swallowed hard and turned my back to them. Everyone else ignored me. I stood there alone, a ball of nerves, fighting the loneliness only a bullied child knows.
All I wanted was one friend, one tiny little friend, that was what I wished for every single evening when I knelt down to pray.
There was a new student in the class. Her name was Tania and her father worked as a US marine. She was a tomboy with short mousy brown hair and a muscular build. She was a wrestler and loved boxing. I was afraid of her, she intimidated me. Tania seemed to have an affinity with the bullies and naturally gravitated toward them. A few weeks later, she started verbally provoking me. It wasn’t long before she moved to punching me in the back during recess and cornering me in the girls’ washroom to tug on my Afro-textured hair. I was sure that if given the chance, she would inflict great harm. I was so intimated by her that I feigned sick on numerous occasions so as not to go to school.
Tania was my bete noire, even thinking of her today gives me the shivers.
My brother Boris had started judo and kept on showing off his osoto gari and o goshi moves at home. At around that same time, my younger sister got flashed by an obscene white man in a white Vauxhall. My mum decided that all her girls should start taking self-defense classes. I wasn’t too eager. I abhorred any type of physical altercation and couldn’t imagine inflicting harm on anyone. I begrudgingly took to the classes and within a few sessions knew how to neutralize an attacker.
I stored the knowledge at the far confines of my cerebral matter. I was sure I wouldn’t have to use it.
It was recess and I was sitting alone in the cafeteria. The popular kids, dressed in their Benetton sweaters and Adidas kicks were all sitting together like they always did. They were taking turns listening to Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean on a brand new Sony Walkman. I yearned to be part of the group, I disliked being the kid that no one wanted to hang out with. The bell rang signaling the end of lunch break and I made my way to the playground. Suddenly I felt a huge blow to my back. I instinctively turned around and there she was. Tania had just planted another one of her potent left hooks into me. I hadn’t done anything to her.
“Why, why did you do that, what did I do ?” I questioned with tears filling my eyes as I reeled from the pain.
“Because you’re black and because I don’t like you”, she responded boastfully.
“But I, I,” I stammered. The words didn’t seem to want to come out.
“And you’re a stupid n-word”, she continued, laughing hard as she provoked me.
At that exact moment, I felt a wave of anger rush over me. I moved toward her, picked her up, threw her over my shoulder and to the ground in a flawless judo ippon seoi nage move. Tania lay there with a shocked look on her face.
“But why did you do that?” she cried.
She looked helpless, small, vulnerable, and fragile. It was the first time she had ever looked that way to me. I noticed the group of bullies quickly approaching and panicked. I ran into the school building into English class. I knew they wouldn’t attack me there.
Tania’s parents lodged an official complaint with the school and my mother was called in to see the principal. I explained my side of the story, I talked about the constant racism and the bullying but the school still gave me a warning. If I was ever to engage in a physical altercation on their premises ever again, I would get expelled.
They made it clear that the racism I faced was a private matter, not one they were expected or trained to address. For them, I was the trouble maker and white Tania was the angel. According to them, I was wrong.
Either way, Tania never verbally or physically abused me ever again.
My story is an example of how institutions like schools can become bastions of systemic racism that uphold white supremacy and racism. While this happened when I was a child, I realize that today, there are still schools and companies that consider racism to be a private matter. They do not put the resources and systems into place to root it out in their institutions. For them, this is not a priority. I ask myself, if this isn’t a priority, what is?
In the case of school, little Black and brown children are getting discriminated against every single day and it affects how they see themselves, it affects their self-esteem and self-confidence, it affects their entire self-development.
How can we talk about an equal society when most of us aren’t treated equally?
The issue of racism is a deep-rooted one that needs to be chased out of the dark corners in which it resides. The way you can join the fight to dismantle it is by becoming a genuine and active anti-racist. You should realize that the world will not make progress if the color of one's skin is still a problem for many.
Thank you for reading my perspective.