My Teacher Could Have Protected Me

I've been writing some volunteer columns for the Dallas Morning News. Here's a link to the first one that appeared back in September 2010:

Michael Haring: My teacher could have protected me News for Dallas, Texas Dallas Morning News Opinion: Viewpoints

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Update: 2/21/11: My unedited version of the column has been added below.

Spaz… Spaz…. Spaz…. Spaz… Spaz… The chanting continued in an audible whisper. More voices joined in. The chanting grew louder and quicker. SPAZ..SPAZ..SPAZ..SPAZ.. Finally, the teacher interjected with an, “All right everybody, get quiet.” The interspersed giggles and chuckles in the classroom started to subside as I continued my walk to the front to make my presentation. I don’t quite remember what that presentation was about 27 years ago. But, I can never forget that incident leading up to it.

All it took was one voice.

A good friend of mine had started the chant. It was from a scene in the movie, “Meatballs,” which I had only seen small portions of on cable. I was familiar with that scene then, although I can’t quite remember it now. Spaz was the nickname of a nerdy, socially awkward character in the movie. Of course, there was a chanting scene in the movie as well. That day, in my 7th grade Language Arts class, it was truly a case of life imitating art.

I was not pleased, but I took it in stride. Don’t let them know that they got to you, right? I read my report and sat back down. But, the damage was done. My confidence was shaken. I had always been a smart kid, but equally as shy. Getting up in front of a group of people and speaking was always a challenging task. But, on that day, I was silenced for good.

Each school year thereafter I always got a seat hidden in the back of the classroom, with my hand firmly planted by my side…never in the air for fear that the chanting might start again. I only spoke when I absolutely had to or when I was called on to answer a question. My A’s and B’s suddenly weren’t making as many public appearances anymore. I grew proficient at always being able to find just the right moment to “feel sick and go see the nurse” or “go to the bathroom.” My 7th grade teacher had taught me how to be a ghost.

I blame my teacher’s inaction for the spaz incident. I don’t blame my friends. They were all just ignorant 7th graders who didn’t know any better. But I do wonder from time to time, what kind of person I would be today, if my teacher had maybe laid into them just a little bit more. Would I have become more confident and outgoing in my future life? Only a DeLorean with a flux capacitor can answer that question now. One thing however, is certain: a safe environment would’ve at least given me the courage to volunteer again. A safe environment would’ve kept me out of the nurse’s office or the bathroom. Regardless, my teacher chose not to address it directly.

Back then, I wouldn’t have thought of that ordeal as a bullying incident (just as today’s kids may not be able to recognize their own experiences with bullying.) I’m still hesitant to call it bullying today, but the more I think about it, the more I believe it was. Bullying exists on another plane besides the physical one. The physical one is the one we, as a society, tend to address the most (and sometimes not enough at that). The mental one is the one we tend to ignore the most (after all, sticks and stones can break our bones, but words will never hurt us.) We as adults know this to be false, yet we continue to spout that off to our children and our students because we don’t know exactly how to deal with it.

But, deal with it, we must. If we don’t defend our children, we will be emboldening them to do something more harsh. 9-year-old Montana Lance of The Colony was being bullied. It bothered him enough that he decided to end his life. Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris were frequent targets of bullying, before they decided to end their lives and the lives of many others. You can Google the words “bullying suicides” and see the names and the stories for yourself. It’s an epidemic and it’s getting worse. It is time for society to truly address it and come up with a solution.

Some people have thicker skin than others. Some people can fight through it, but they don’t come through unscathed. For me, my wound is my apprehension of sharing myself, my thoughts, and my ideas. When the ghost appears, everybody loses. I don’t put myself out there often enough. People who don’t know me, may actually think I’m stuck up and aloof. And, sadly, I never get to know them.