BULLYING | THE AUTHENTIC ECLECTIC
The Hands of Injustice: The True Story of a Bully, an Eye, and a Cookie
“Boys will be boys” is not okay
Ten years have elapsed since it all started on that fateful day, but the horrible events spring to the surface with ease.
I will never forget the cookie.
Setting the Scene for Disaster
Enter a new substitute teacher hired by the High School. She was paid pennies to oversee an elective class filled with a mixture of students using it as a credit requirement, not for their desire to learn how to stitch, baste, and sew.
Sprinkled in the room were some high achievers, nerds, cool kids, and bullies, all with histories she cannot know.
The teacher sat back and watched the combination explode.
Most would cover their faces.
My daughter didn’t have time.
The din in the room matched the foreboding air of chaotic energy. The natives grew restless with too much idle time. The lack of structure did not sit well and neither did the students.
My daughter’s intuition signaled high alert. She peered from the corner of her eyes to see how her tormentor squeezed, turned, and wound up an empty plastic water bottle. The concept of the classroom weapon was to create internal pressure that would cause the lid to propel off with force. It was no secret that she would be pegged.
Her previous bruises were in different stages of healing. He aimed for her buttocks and breasts.
Some of the older injuries faded to yellowed markings, and the fresher ones held their purple hue.
In time, she hesitated to report the incidents. Our family was known to the school since she and her diagnosed younger sister tended to give them no choice. Regardless, my oldest daughter felt written off as a dramatic young schoolgirl by the various personnel. They dismissed her complaints of being physically hurt by this young man as inconsequential.
Boys will be boys, after all.
The bully had established his reputation as a troublemaker with a temper, making him feared and popular. In contrast, my daughter was a blossoming 10th grader navigating her way from being an academic with vocal talent, to include peer acceptance.
Her survival mode kicked in as the bully’s water bottle built-up pressure. She begged the substitute for a pass to go to the school bathroom, where she purposely lingered to eat up the time.
Upon her return, just minutes before the final class bell, she felt relieved to see the water bottle gone from his clutches.
In a twist of fate, my daughter stood next to her desk as she waited for another student to vacate her seat. This small action exposed her; she was vulnerable to the clear shot of a known marksman with projectiles. She never saw it coming and only felt an intense piercing pain in her eye.
He abandoned, maybe even spent, the water bottle weapon and had switched to a paper wasp.
Folded paper, much like the ‘football’ shapes and dispensed by a slingshot contraption, was dubbed a paper wasp for its sting upon impact. This particular bully was not only known for accuracy but proud to include a paper clip, which amped up the pain level.
Mere seconds changed her life permanently.
Confusion ensued as she cried out and grabbed her face.
Blood filled her cupped hand.
She was transported by ambulance to a local hospital.
Street Injustice
The Bully: All of the students, especially the eyewitnesses in the classroom, knew exactly what happened. They remained silent to authority figures, though. No one ratted on a popular bully who led by intimidation lest he turned his sniper attacks on them.
Too risky.
The bully went as far as to create a social media page about my daughter chock full of jokes and commentary about her eye, pre-dating what we know to be cyberbullying today.
My Daughter: Bedridden for weeks with a scratched cornea, cataracts, a ripped pupil, and injury-induced glaucoma, she suffered numerous trips to the emergency room for her elevated eye pressure. A pupil doesn’t repair and hers will forever remain in a fixed larger state due to its inability to dilate.
Her schoolwork was sent home, though we explained to the administrators that she was unable to see in the medically required pitch-black room.
Like having a conversation with a brick wall, the work kept coming.
The cornea and cataracts healed. Her eye pressure settled and regulated. In addition to her damaged pupil, she was saddled with a diagnosis of being at high risk for early-onset glaucoma.
My daughter was unable to attend a hard-earned opportunity to sing for the annual NJ All-State Chorus that fell during that month.
School Injustice
The Bully: He maintained his school schedule without interruption. The school kindly swept up the array of paper wasps that littered the floor around his desk. The teacher effectively erased all evidence from the scene.
During one of my follow-ups, a teacher opened her desk drawer which held a few dozen paper wasps. There was no way to know which had been used.
My Daughter: In a strange and unsettling gesture, they named her Student of the Month. The Principal delivered a certificate and a cookie to her bedside.
Yes, a cookie.
My blood boiled.
Courtroom Injustice
The Bully: His high-profile attorney staged scenarios that contradicted the truth. Prancing about the courtroom, the lawyer’s antics included slowly wafting balled-up pieces of yellow, legal-sized paper into the air to show how non-threatening the atmosphere was in school that day.
My Daughter: Her Public Defender presented my notebook brimming with factual information. Included was each correspondence from the school, copies of the social media onslaught which alluded to culpability, medical reports, injury analysis, and names of witnesses who would ultimately perjure themselves.
Our legal endeavor was to simply cover her medical expenses and to have a court-ordered anger management program issued to the bully. We were aware that this young man was the product of an unstable and abusive family setting.
Ironically, the bully’s younger brother took to harassing my middle daughter who already had plenty of social cue misfires.
Maybe we could force their hands to break the cycle?
Charges were dismissed by the Judge, in the non-jury case, after a preponderance of the evidence. Without a camera to record the bully, she wasn’t 100% sure it was him. Apparently, 99% didn’t meet the legal burden of proof.
My head exploded and the ill-fated words reverberated.
All said and done, boys will be boys, right?
And my daughter?
She got a cookie.
Thank God for that cookie ~ it sure made everything better.
Our kids deserve to be heard without fear of recrimination. We are responsible for guiding them, serving as role models, and offering them strong foundations of respect, love, and kindness.
Trusting adults is paramount to their wellness.
We need to talk to kids about bullying in order for them to understand it and help prevent it. Each State in the US has anti-bullying legislation. The Federal Government may take action when schools are involved.
Cyberbullying is equally dangerous and life-altering.
Have an open dialogue with your kids and work together for a safe environment.
If you’re ready to join Medium to read endlessly, please consider joining here:
Substack | Simily | Kindle Vella Nonfiction | Kindle Vella Fiction
Copyright © 2022 Lisa Gerard Braun. All rights reserved.