Throughout my life, I have been running different scenarios through my mind in regards to events which occurred and might have occurred under different settings in my life. Often times, these come and go but some linger in my mind longer than they should. The one related to this post has been on my mind for the past three years. I was going to post about it at a future time but a recent post from Chateau Cherie has given me the incentive to post it today. You can read her post here: https://cheriewhite.blog/2021/05/28/its-so-important-to-forgive
Here’s the scenario: One of the schools I attended in the town where I went through three years of bullying hell nearly half a century ago puts on an anti-bullying play. I wouldn’t be surprised at this because the town would like to show off about how they don’t tolerate things such as bullying. A lot of ‘holier than thou’ types live there. The production would probably be top rate and the children involved would do a great job in highlighting why bullying is wrong and of course, the adults in attendance would give the children loads of applause.
Here’s where I come in. I don’t even live in the same country as that town but I happen to be in the area at the time, (I still have family around those parts), and I get wind of the event and decide to attend. Like all the others in the hall, I watch the play and applaud it after. It is after the play, where audience members are invited to speak that I make my move. On another note, I make this move even if no one is invited to speak. I get up to the mike and the first words out of my mouth is to congratulate the class putting on the performance and tell them what a fantastic job they did. Then, I would further complement them on how they have learned the lessons their parents and grandparents never did and that they would set a new course for the town. Seeing all the puzzled faces in the audience, I would explain how when I lived in that town in the early 1970s, it was a three year long bullying nightmare.
As I write this, I am already hearing the boos and shouts for me to get off the stage from members of the audience. They don’t want to think that their ‘perfect’ town had done anything like that. So, I would probably be asked to hand over the microphone for my own protection. Once I did and made my way out the door, people would be yelling at me for disrupting these poor children’s play and I would have to endure patronizing comments like, “I hope you got your closure now.” Once outside, some school official would tell me not to come to the school again to which I would respond, “I don’t need to, I’ve said what I needed to say.”
Now my delusions of grandeur/paranoia really kick in after this. An article in the local paper has headlines: “Former Bullying Victim Speaks Out at School Anti- Bullying Play.” A reporter from said paper comes to interview me and I talk about how living in the town was one three year long bullying nightmare for me. My side of the story is finally made public. On the flip side, the town leaders, worried how my talking about my experiences might damage the reputation of the town, hold a meeting to discuss what to do. There is a suggestion that the town sues me for slander and defamation, I wouldn’t put that past this town. A statement is released where they claim my bullying was an isolated incident and the town doesn’t tolerate such things. They even issue an ‘apology’ to me for what I went through. However, to some of the younger residents, they might feel they shouldn’t have to apologize to me because my experiences happened nearly fifty years ago and they weren’t even born then. You see this happening today in regards to aspects of history.
To further add to my weird scenario, a few of those who are still living in the town and more importantly, were involved in my bullying, seek me out to have a talk with them. I would accept this invitation but unbeknownst to them, I would invite the reporter. This way, when the try to manipulate me into saying I wasn’t bullied that bad or make it out to be my fault because I was so weird, the reporter could see first hand what I went through. The cherry on top would be if one of them threatened me with violence.
Fortunately or unfortunately, this hasn’t happened and I doubt very much that it ever will. See, I got my closure when I wrote “He Was Weird,” where I got to pour out all my hate on the pages of the book. In a sense I do forgive that town, especially as it is very highly unlikely that any of them will seek my forgiveness. Some would even remark that they shouldn’t have to apologize for events that happened so long ago. They would even point out they were children at the time. I agree, we were children but isn’t best to acknowledge your mistakes as a child so future generations won’t make the same ones? I’m not going to waste my energy worrying about it.
To buy He Was Weird, go to: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Was-Weird-Publisher-Generation-Publishing/dp/B00SLVHRFG/ref=sr_1_1?crid=36I8I1G32U0R4&dchild=1&keywords=he+was+weird&qid=1622466679&s=books&sprefix=he+was+%2Cstripbooks%2C148&sr=1-1