A Puzzle

One of the most difficult things for me to wrap my head around these days is bullying. It’s all over the news, mostly due to facts of the recent deaths it caused. But this is not the simple reason that I am writing this. I witness this everyday.

When I get on the school bus every morning, there are two boys. One is in the second or third grade, the other only a few years older. This older boy has somehow gotten the impression that it is his duty, from some unseen force, that he has to cut down the other boy every chance he gets. From my spot in the back of the bus, I watch and listen, usually sullenly, my blood beginning to boil.

Some people may have the old-school idea that bullying is just a form of constructive criticism, and that it has no effect on the victim, other than it being a way of life. There is no change; it always has been this way and it always will be.
However, I don’t believe this is acceptable or right in any way. I believe that everyone is equal, that no one should be singled out for the quirks or differences. People are the way they are for a reason, and should not be challenged to change. It may sound rather unoriginal, and that I have taken these feelings from others before me, but it is the truth in what I think and feel.

Perhaps, instead of keeping my peace, I should be more vocal about this on the bus the next time I see bullying. Maybe it will have no effect, but anything is possible. If I can make one small difference, then it was worth it.





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