MickBie and Me: Devastation of bullying

By Jes Bouchard

Let’s not beat around the bush. Bul­lying is alive and thriving here at New­man, though it’s not always the kind of bullying you think.

Merriam-Webster has several defi­nitions in regards to bullying, but one of the simplest defini­tions says, “To affect by means of force or coercion.”

And let me tell you, there’s a lot of force coming at me right now. So much so that I was min­utes away from quit­ting school in the middle of the semester.

This is the reason why there wasn’t a MickBie & Me in last week’s Vantage; I planned on being away – far away. Where? Not sure, just not here. (Thank you, by the way, to those of you who have called, e-mailed, or asked why MickBie & Me was missing. I’m hum­bled by the response.)

This whole experience of being bul­lied – bullied to the point of wanting to leave – has made me realize there are two kinds of bullies: bad bullies and good bullies.

Bad bullies, who for lack of better words are, well, meanies.

I see them all over. Maybe it’s a pro­fessor who plays favorites or a team­mate who singles you out just because you’re different. There are administra­tors who stand behind the institution, rather than behind the students who need help the most. I could list more, not just because I’ve seen it, but as I said, I’ve been victim to it.

So there I was, with my new truck and MickBie, and trying to decide what I was going to do. I was so tired.

I had no more strength and my heart was torn between fight or flight. I even packed a bag. Bullies all over were hit­ting me: faculty who were forcing their opinions on me, and peers who were supposed to defend me were forcing me to be alone.

There were even professors who were supposed to work within my dis­abilities and well, didn’t. But, then I thought of my wonderful professors, who forced me, but this time towards excellence. And there were my friends who fought for me both in life and in prayer, forcing me to be better, forcing me to try, forcing me to have hope.

I realized my decision would result in a win of some sort. If I left, I would be letting the Bad Bullies win. If I stayed, I was not only letting the Good Bullies win, but letting myself win, as well. That’s when it hit me, the deci­sion was mine. Forcing myself out, or forcing me to embrace the chaos, I was my own worst bully; bad or good

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