Thanks for sharing this. I agree with the first comment that you might reach out and try to suss out if this person has indeed turned over a new leaf. Let me share something with you: I was a very sensitive child with an alcoholic, abusive father. Save to say, I did not do well on the schoolyard. When my grandfather died (my hero and protector), I was devastated and carried a stack of bird pictures with me to school (he was a bird breeder). My bully saw it, stole and ripped the pictures-- as he'd broken and defiled so many things before. I lost it and broke his nose. During recess, the entire class ganged up on me and beat me up.
Years later, a guy sits next to me on the bus, starts talking my ear off about the "good old days". It's him, of course. I'm frozen in my seat, old hurt and shame burning. But I couldn't bring it up. Couldn't. Because he's not that bully anymore. And I'm not that victim.
Once, I worked as a substitute teacher at a junior high school. During a break between periods, when the students were going from classroom to classroom, I heard an adult out in the hallways. He was berating and abusing the students so outrageously, I jumped up and ran to accost the miscreant. I'd forgotten my status as a stranger—this was one of those occasions when one's sense of justice eclipses all consideration. There had been no decision making process, only a need to act.
"Sir!" I said. "Why are you shouting at these students?"
I now saw that he wore a public school i.d. card. He was a member of the faculty.
"Who are you?" he said.
I told him my name and my position.
"I am Principal [name redacted]," he said. "I don't need your help."
He was, indeed, the principal of the school. And his behavior had been sick and disgraceful.
My plan was to report this to a higher level of school administration. When I shared my idea with some full-time teachers they responded with strong discouragement, for the sake of not having to reorient themselves in a new status quo.
This was at Chaffin Junior High School in Fort Smith, Arkansas, in the 2013-2014 school year. No need for me to cover for this man's aberrant behavior. I regret that I do not recall his name.
I wonder if there might be any value in the writer reaching out to the (former?) bully himself, to try to share in as non-judgmental a way as possible the impact his bullying had? If he's evolved into a responsible adult, it might be reassuring if that were reflected in his response; if he ignores the outreach that might say all that needs to be said about his failure to evolve - at least fully, and at least by this point. Though I wouldn't necessarily expect someone to have fully matured by 26 or 27, hopefully he has at least the basic capacity to admit to and apologize for his past behavior.
Your indifference to the residual threat of continued bullying is less confusing in the light that you also want to be a bully:
> This keenness to study, and schedule, and have discussion groups, goes some way to explaining the moniker sex nerds, which my friends and I began using a few years ago to express our benign derision, and a long way to explaining the temptation to bully them. Nerds have spent the past few decades triumphing in almost every aspect of American popular culture, and it’s impossible to make them feel bad about it. It’s futile to complain about more superhero movies being made. But the classic tactic of saying they are doing sex in a weird way remains available—especially when they’re so eager to tell you about how they play Catan with their polycule every Wednesday.
No autistic person should seek advice from you. You are unsafe.
Thanks for sharing this. I agree with the first comment that you might reach out and try to suss out if this person has indeed turned over a new leaf. Let me share something with you: I was a very sensitive child with an alcoholic, abusive father. Save to say, I did not do well on the schoolyard. When my grandfather died (my hero and protector), I was devastated and carried a stack of bird pictures with me to school (he was a bird breeder). My bully saw it, stole and ripped the pictures-- as he'd broken and defiled so many things before. I lost it and broke his nose. During recess, the entire class ganged up on me and beat me up.
Years later, a guy sits next to me on the bus, starts talking my ear off about the "good old days". It's him, of course. I'm frozen in my seat, old hurt and shame burning. But I couldn't bring it up. Couldn't. Because he's not that bully anymore. And I'm not that victim.
Once, I worked as a substitute teacher at a junior high school. During a break between periods, when the students were going from classroom to classroom, I heard an adult out in the hallways. He was berating and abusing the students so outrageously, I jumped up and ran to accost the miscreant. I'd forgotten my status as a stranger—this was one of those occasions when one's sense of justice eclipses all consideration. There had been no decision making process, only a need to act.
"Sir!" I said. "Why are you shouting at these students?"
I now saw that he wore a public school i.d. card. He was a member of the faculty.
"Who are you?" he said.
I told him my name and my position.
"I am Principal [name redacted]," he said. "I don't need your help."
He was, indeed, the principal of the school. And his behavior had been sick and disgraceful.
My plan was to report this to a higher level of school administration. When I shared my idea with some full-time teachers they responded with strong discouragement, for the sake of not having to reorient themselves in a new status quo.
This was at Chaffin Junior High School in Fort Smith, Arkansas, in the 2013-2014 school year. No need for me to cover for this man's aberrant behavior. I regret that I do not recall his name.
I wonder if there might be any value in the writer reaching out to the (former?) bully himself, to try to share in as non-judgmental a way as possible the impact his bullying had? If he's evolved into a responsible adult, it might be reassuring if that were reflected in his response; if he ignores the outreach that might say all that needs to be said about his failure to evolve - at least fully, and at least by this point. Though I wouldn't necessarily expect someone to have fully matured by 26 or 27, hopefully he has at least the basic capacity to admit to and apologize for his past behavior.
Your indifference to the residual threat of continued bullying is less confusing in the light that you also want to be a bully:
> This keenness to study, and schedule, and have discussion groups, goes some way to explaining the moniker sex nerds, which my friends and I began using a few years ago to express our benign derision, and a long way to explaining the temptation to bully them. Nerds have spent the past few decades triumphing in almost every aspect of American popular culture, and it’s impossible to make them feel bad about it. It’s futile to complain about more superhero movies being made. But the classic tactic of saying they are doing sex in a weird way remains available—especially when they’re so eager to tell you about how they play Catan with their polycule every Wednesday.
No autistic person should seek advice from you. You are unsafe.