A RECENT bullying incident resuscitated concerns about the said social problem. Nevertheless, it ironically awakened the mob-mentality of many of us which we justify as classic unadulterated justice – an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Reading the social media comments is worse than the viral bullying video itself, with comments such as; “Papatayin kita!” or “Mamatay na kayong lahat na pamilya!.” What happened to Christmas forgiveness, love, and peace?
As a kid growing up, I dealt with bullies almost every day – bigger boys who will corner me to take my lunch box at school, or even those older boys who will occasionally mug me for snack money. Just when I thought college would be different, privileged kids would show the power of money to our disadvantage, and even some professors could not hold back the urge to make us feel so insignificant. There are just people in this world who take pleasure in oppressing the smaller people.
Of course, this article is not about a very powerful leader who imprisons a mere critic. Or a giant country who wants to take the whole world for itself. Or a mob which habitually shuts down dissent through fake news and trolls. This writing is an inquiry on how this despicable culture affects the lives of ordinary people in this world.
My friend, George, recalls his childhood at SPED–Baguio which accepted only two classes of students at that time: the children from wealthy families, or if not, the really bright ones. Since little George was not rich, he supposed that he was part of the latter.
One time, a bigger bully, a child of a prominent Baguio clan, wanted to show “who is who” in Baguio and picked on little George. The brawl, however, left the bigger boy beaten and bruised – the smaller boy surprisingly fought back. The school called their parents but George came in alone – after all, his father died when he was five, and he feared that the news would further depress his grieving mother. At school, just when he thought that the parent of the bully would show an ounce of maturity, he pulled George’s little frame on the side and threatened him with his gun. Little George, without a father to turn to, took it bravely (albeit crying every night since then asking: “who will I run to in this cruel world?”). Imagine such a sad scene? The father of the bully was unfortunately, a much bigger bully.
When I was working in a private institution, a newly-promoted head of office got the power instantly drilled into his head. Drunk with his own self, he ordered me to mop the floor in front of clients while berating me (despite not being part of my job description). I also recall being terrified in a traffic jam when a man pointed a gun at me so I would give way to his expensive car. I learned to suck it all up: “inya ngay garud ket isu da ti ada posisyon na...inya ngay garud ta isuda ti baknang” (what can we do? They have the position, they have the money).
What can we do? I asked myself for a long time. It seems that there are bullies everywhere we go. My child, Vash, two years old at that time, showed me what to do. In one of our vacations, an eight year-old boy was bullying a tiny girl in the beach; taking her toys away and knocking down her sand castle. Instantly recognizing that the tiny girl was his playmate, Vash ran towards the bigger boy and sucker punched the bully to protect her. The bully was stunned. Thankfully, I was observing the episode the whole time and I was able to get there before my kid will get a beating of his own.
What is the lesson here? If even the kid knows that bullying is wrong, then how much more for us adults who have spent most of our lives in learning environments? The lesson is that we have to speak up when there are injustices. Fight back for those who cannot fight for themselves. If we are strong, we should protect the weak. If we are privileged, we have to use such privileges to make the world a better place.
What else? I can give you an update about my bullies: I became friends with some of my grade school bullies – basketball games, bottles of gin, and maturity did the work. They admitted that they were wrong before and they only stole my lunch box and snack money because their parents didn’t give them any money for school. Some of my bullies died early, and a working colleague/ bully became a beneficiary for our fundraising activities for the sick. You see, bullying though despicable, comes deeper than how it appears – there are different stories behind each case. I could’ve used my position (as former a community official) or platform to get back at these guys or to kick people when they are down just to prove a point, but it would make me a bully myself.
Yes bullying is wrong – we can speak up against it, initiate action to address the same. But, we should see to it that in the process, we do not become bullies ourselves.