My New School (Mis)Adventure

It was my first day in a new high school. It was a new and frightening place. I smiled and put on my brave face. It was a lonely place. It felt like everyone else already knew each other and were friends. I was an outsider trying to forge my way through the days and get to know people, just a little bit at a time.

It is unfortunate my first day at this school was preceded by "the worst day of my life that far". It is even more unfortunate that I spilled my tale to a girl who would not become my ally.

I may have bared my soul to the wrong person. Would my fate have been any different if I had remained silent? I will never know. All I do know is what I felt. One of the most important players in this new game at my new school knew all that had taken me down in the past. As the next few months unfolded, it slowly and methodically happened all over again.

I had never belonged or not belonged to a clique before. I had spent the entirety of my life-that-far walking the path of 'Switzerland'. I was neutral. I felt safe in that space. I didn't have enemies and the friends I gained along my way were fiercely loyal and kind to me.

Perhaps I led a sheltered life before I walked through those doors. Maybe I was weakened by my experiences which immediately preceded this one. All I knew, is I had only one direction to go. Forward. One small step in front of the other. Baby steps. But forward steps all the same.

I felt a 'chill' in the air when my new acquaintances did not include me or invite me into their conversations. So I did the next brave thing. I opened up and said something to add to the conversation in progress. Were those icicles that were forming in the silence which followed my words or was I just imagining it?

I must have been imagining it. I was insecure. This was my problem. Not theirs.

I was new and I did not know my way. I asked questions. I asked so many questions. I asked the same question many times because (often, but not always) the answers changed depending on the circumstance. Because the answers fluctuated so much of the time the ground beneath my feet began to crumble. I was afraid to say anything, for fear of being wrong. So I looked for direction.

I was reprimanded and told I asked too many questions. I was not learning fast enough.I had to be told the same thing over and over (and over) again. I was berated in front of those I was just getting to know. I cowered. I accepted this truth. Because she was right. Nothing she said was a lie (except she definitely exaggerated about the number of times I asked the same trivial question, because I did remember that part).

I was shattered and broken. I may have cried all the way home from school that day. All I remember is each time I spoke about my 'new truth' I could not contain my emotions. I have never, ever cried so much and so often. Ever.

Did you ever have the feeling people are talking about you (almost) literally behind your back? I had that feeling. A lot. Silence when I walked into a room. Silence when I was answering someone else's question (as if I was being tested and judged). I could feel it in the air. It was palpable. I felt like I was on the outside of the popular clique.

I thought the other girls treated me differently when the 'leader' was out of the room. They were warm and friendly. They invited conversation. I told myself I didn't have to be everyone's friend. Everyone does not have to like me. "Get over yourself, girl!" I told myself time and time (and time) again.

I tried to make friends with the others. I looked for the positive. When I noticed the girls who were kind to me would not answer my questions and directed me to ask 'our leader', I was wounded. Especially when I discovered they knew the answer after they told me they didn't. What was going on here? Was I imagining this?

I took 'the leader's' advice and stopped asking questions until I had turned over every stone to find the answer to myself. I made notes. Lots of notes. I took my notes home and turned them into a quick-reference-guide so I could answer questions on the spot.

I mustered my courage and approached the-one-with-the-answers only when I had to do so. Only to be told "Later"; "The answer is here" [it wasn't]; "Didn't you look? [yes] read? [yes] remember? [obviously not, because I had to ask]" or she would simply do something herself and not teach me.

I approached the one who I seemed to need to please, in order to find a way to make it work. When that didn't work, I went to my superiors. "This is my problem and I need direction to find my way through it".

My superiors were very kind and empathetic. But they did not help me. They didn't offer guidance or a solution. They told me I could quit and start over at a new school. But they did not help me deal with what I was experiencing.

I did not want to quit and start this process all over again. So I spoke to a counsellor. I had an hour to find an action plan to guide me through this. One hour. And my counsellor did not hear me. She was headed down a Beginner Level Psychology course and I needed an Advance Crash Course. Now. Just as the hour was winding to a close, she finally heard my plea. I needed to know what I could do. I did not want to quit. I wanted to overcome this. As the clock ticked down the last few minutes she advised me to document everything. Dates, situations, names. You may need to know this to defend yourself, was the feeling I got as I walked out of that door.

I went back to school. Every day. I came home for lunch. Every day. Each day on the walk back to school I told myself "This is your chance to start the day over again. Forget the morning. Just start from now and move forward". I told myself to talk with those who were friendly and uplifting. I did not need to be everyone's friend. "Everyone does not have to like you" was the mantra I repeated to myself over and over and over again.

But why did my blood run cold when I saw this girl walk into the principal's office and talk behind closed doors? "Not everything is about you!", I chastised myself. Over and over (and over) again.

Closed doors. The chill in the air. I was in a class with those who were not my friends and I felt ostracised. I came home and confessed my concerns to my family. You are just imagining this! was the feeling I got from home. So I stopped talking. 

Every day was so hard. Waking up in the morning was the hardest part of all. I came home and numbed myself in front of the TV so I didn't have to think. I slept. I slept so much. If a friend called and asked me about my new school, I would try to be brave but the façade crumbled. Yes, I was becoming a drama queen inside of my own head.

Forward steps. One step at a time. Just keep showing up. Look up. Look for the positive. Encourage the positive within those who seem friendly.

I kept doing it. One day at a time.

Until the day the principal called me into his office. I quietly chided to myself "This can't be good. I've never ever been called into a principal's office before."

Unfortunately, I was right. It was suggested to me, that I leave that school. Before the principal had even heard or even asked me about my side of the story. He listened to one side and when I told put a voice to my defence he said "I didn't know that".

I did what I thought was the right thing to do. "I have documentation. I can give it to you if you need it to ensure this doesn't happen to someone else..." His response? "I was hoping it wouldn't come to that". He did not say any more than that. It was my choice to let that statement hang in the air.

I had to tell my family. This time they heard me. In their eyes, they thought I was a victim of bullying.

I tried to do what was right. I mentioned this to another superior who immediately told me "We take these things very seriously". She had to make some calls and would get back to me.

The time it took for her to return her call was all the time it took for me to realize I couldn't fight it. I could not be in the same school and go head to head with this girl. If it was bad before, it would only become worse.

I was not strong enough to fight for myself. I changed schools.

I was fifty years old at the time. I was rendered powerless by someone who had the power to do so.

Was I a victim of bullying in the work place? I will never know for sure because I did not have the motivation confidence, stamina or tools to take a stand. There are two sides to every story and I can only imagine how things looked on the other side. All I knew for sure, is that I could not fight my own battle.

I was fifty years old! I had an arsenal of knowledge, tools, self esteem and support. But I felt powerless. How does a child handle their version of this same tale?

As our children head off to school this fall, please remember my story. If you see any changes in your child when they come home from school, sit down and listen to what they have to say.

We do not know what others are dealing with. Be gentle with those who touch your world today.

The Long Reaching Effects of Bullying

A former employer of mine is taking an active stance on bullying and I applaud their actions. Except I am skeptical. I am so very wary of believing this can change within an institution where I (as an adult) was a victim of bullying in that particular workplace.

In all of the years I have lived, I have never felt so helpless. Me! One who has lived through an abusive marriage. Yet this workplace situation was my undoing.

What happened? Why couldn't I fight back? Why does it still haunt me (almost) three years after the fact? Did the events which preceded my 'incident' set me up to be in a position where I felt belittled to the point of tears most days?

The day prior to my interview for the job-that-I-wanted-the-most, I had been publicly berated and humiliated by my boss (at a job I had taken so I would have a part-time job to help me afford to accept this job if it was offered to me). I was beyond devastated. I was still shaking from the anger and embarrassment from the day prior, while I was being interviewed. My confidence was shattered. During my interview, I came clean and mentioned the incident from the day prior and I was still a little rattled. This revelation may have set the stage for what was to follow. I will never know for sure.

Prior to this, I had another negative experience in the workplace. It wasn't public humiliation but it was a slow and gradual deterioration of my self esteem over the course of a much longer term.

This was preceded by 50 years of life where I lived in a bubble-wrapped world. I didn't struggle with school and had the ability to do well in my studies if that was where I chose to focus my energy. I found work within the financial services industry and succeeded with whatever was put before me. I earned a reputation of being a conscientious and hard worker. It followed me wherever I went. From there, I opened my daycare where I worked for/with parents who liked and respected me. I was becoming confident. Then, I took a chance and decided to try out a new career path.

At the age of 51 years old, I walked into a brand new place of employment (yes, they did hire me after my most-awful-interview-known-to-man) with the confidence of a sixteen year old. Or less.

That is the scenario which preceded the events to follow.

It is a long and tedious tale but it didn't take long for me to figure out my supervisor did not like me. This terrified me just a little bit (a lot) and I continued to become less-of-who-I-was and more of who-she-thought-I-was. It was not a place I would ever choose to be. But I was there.

I knew things were bad so I approached her and invited her to talk with me and let me know how I could improve. I did not expect it to be on the spot, in front of all of the other office staff and for it to be a public humiliation of epic proportions.

At this point, I knew I was most definitely not imagining all that was going on (quite literally) behind my back. I talked to the administrative person who hired me. I talked to my supervisor's superior. I explained what was going on and though I didn't have words to ask, I needed help. I just didn't know how desperate I was. Until things got worse.

And they did.

I unravelled slowly but surely. I had 50 years of success which preceded these events so I used every strategy that had worked for me in the past to succeed, despite the odds.

When my questions were not being answered, I researched my own answers. When I found myself unable to be quick enough to perform my duties, I took work home with me and devised a spreadsheet where I could come up with my own answers easily. I asked questions of anyone and everyone who was happy to supply them. By this time, I was under the impression my supervisor had instructed my co-workers not to answer any of my questions, so she was the one I would have to go to for answers. And then she may or may not choose to answer them.

I focused on the positive I found within those tortured days. There are morsels of goodness in every situation. And I found them. It was a struggle but I was gasping for air so I thought this just might work.

I went to a counselling session which I paid for out of my own pocket. I needed a strategy to get through this. This was the job I most wanted. All I had to do was overcome this one obstacle and I would be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I needed answers. I needed help.

I did not want to approach my supervisor's boss and turn this into a "She said/she said" situation that reminded me of teenage girls. I thought if I just kept doing the next right thing, I would get to where I needed to be to work through and past this challenge.

For days and weeks on end, I came home from work and cried. Time after time after time. All of my strategies were wearing me down and wearing me out. I had the feeling it wasn't working but I was terrified to approach my supervisor by this point because I knew she was not my ally. I was working to succeed despite her best efforts to keep me down.

Two months is all it took for this situation to come to a peak and have to be dealt with. I was given an ultimatum. I could stay in my position, not pass my probation and be without a job. Or I could resign my position and accept whatever fate would hand out to me (a part-time floating position within the organization).

At this point, I knew I had information that my superiors needed to know. I finally opened up to the people within my world and they put a name to what I was experiencing. "You are being bullied".

I was 51 years old and I did not have the vocabulary to describe this situation until someone gave it to me. Fifty one years old! How in the world do children and young teens take control of a subtle, manipulative bullying situation when it doesn't fit the mold that has been provided for them? Bullying takes on so very many forms and (from my experience) the bullying you cannot see is just as damaging than that which is blatant and recognizable.

My supervisor's boss was my boss. He was the one who gave me my final ultimatum. When I described my half of all of the events which had preceded the moment when he invited me into his office, he admitted  he did not know (nor investigate) my side of the story. The verdict was written without a defence.

I was two months into a brand new position in a brand new work place. I was working at a place of employment that I could see taking me through to my retirement. I wanted (and needed) this job. I said the hard words, "I have documentation and I can provide it to you if you need for this to go in (my supervisor's) file". And do you know what his answer was? "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this ..."

This, from a person who was holding a position-of-authority within the very institution that is in a position of trust for preventing bullying to happen to children. And this was his answer?!?

I could have fought this. The moment I mentioned this to the person who was in the administrative position of hiring me, she immediately responded, "We take these situations very seriously. Let me find out more information." By the time she got back to me, I was terrified of the ramifications pursuing this would bring. I was a brand new employee. I was in jeopardy of losing my job. I was vulnerable and felt ill equipped to handle this on my own. So I bowed down and pretended it didn't really happen. For the sake of my future.

This sequence of events unfolded (almost) three years ago. And an announcement in the paper that this very same employer is going to implement a new strategy for the children in their care hit me hard.

If an adult, with all of the tools, resources, coping strategies, vocabulary and willingness to talk openly can't confront a bully when they are in their own 'front yard', what hope does a child have?

I am beyond grateful to see more accessible tools are becoming available and bullying is something that is discussed openly at all ages. But please, please, please give these children the tools to recognize the very subtle forms of bullying. Bullying in any form is dangerous but when it comes in the form even an adult cannot recognize while they are living it ... it is the most treacherous of all forms.

It has taken me over two and a half years to write this out loud. I am an adult, with all of the resources I could possibly hope for, right at my fingertips. I can still feel the whisper of those sequence of events, which haunt me to this day. Let's do whatever we possibly can, to help our children. They need it. More than we will ever know.