Bullying seems epidemic these days. About 19 percent of students ages 12 to 18 reported being bullied during school in 2021–22, and the figure climbs to 26 percent among middle schoolers. For those who are bullied, 22 percent said it happened online or by text, which means there’s no front yard to walk away from. It follows them home in their pocket.
I remember being bullied. It happened in my own front yard. I was in third grade, maybe fourth. We were playing football when some junior high kids showed up. Being bigger than us, they quickly took the game away. Then it got ugly. They called us names: “Punks,” “Wimps,” “Sissies.” Abusive language for the 1960s. The name-calling escalated into pushing and shoving. We were intimidated.
And then, from nowhere, or so it seemed, my older brother, Mark, showed up. He played football for the Altus High School Bulldogs. Mark walked into our humiliating situation, took the football, and zinged it at one of the bullies. It stung the kid, slipping through his hands and bouncing off his chest. “What’s wrong? Can’t take a ball thrown that fast?” Mark challenged. “If you can’t play with the big boys, why are you picking on these little kids?”
That’s all it took. They lowered their heads and sulked away. Mark tossed the ball back to us and left without another word. Case closed.
But what happens when no older brother, friend, or parent shows up? What happens when our protectors aren’t there anymore? Therein is the problem.
If you’re a kid being bullied, hear this first: it is not your fault, and you are not weak. Tell a trusted adult, whether a parent, teacher, counselor, or pastor, and keep telling until someone acts. Stay near friends. Don’t retaliate. If it’s happening online, save the messages, block the sender, and show them to an adult. And if you see it happening to someone else, be the Mark in that yard. Scripture says, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid” (Joshua 1:9). Sometimes courage is simply walking over and standing beside someone.
Now for the harder part. I’ve been a bully, too.
In junior high, I told a friend named Steven he wasn’t supposed to wear a letter jacket unless he had earned it in school. He had bought it, or maybe his parents gave it to him as a gift. I don’t know. I only know I made him feel small over a piece of clothing.
Years later, I tried unsuccessfully to find Steven online to apologize.
I thought about him again when my son Harrison wore a leather jacket his grandpa, my father-in-law, had bought him before I adopted Harrison as a teenager. Watching him head off to a new school in that jacket, I found myself hoping no one would treat him the way I had treated Steven.
Maybe we all need to look for the bully, or potential bully, within. They are there: the authoritarian office manager; the subordinate who carries the personnel manual like a club; the teacher who intentionally intimidates a student; the church member who freezes out the newcomer.
Jesus asked, “Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own?” (Matthew 7:3). Bullies out there are easy to spot. The one in the mirror takes honesty.
Most of us will never have Mark’s throwing arm. But we can all lower the voice and lift the person in front of us. “Blessed are the peacemakers,” Jesus said (Matthew 5:9). Peacemaking starts small: a kind word, an interrupted joke, a seat saved at the lunch table.
Somewhere, a kid is standing in a front yard, waiting for someone to show up. Maybe this time it’s us. And maybe, before it’s too late, some of us owe a Steven an apology.