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Bullying.....HNW in pink
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Bullying.....HNW in pink Aside – no one wants to see me half naked in pink……so here’s Pink……half nekkid.  There is an art to bullying. Not when you are young of course. Then it’s just blunt force trauma and most of us remember the pain because it was physical. I had never been bullied until I got to High School and a group of jock girls decided that I was somehow “off”. Maybe it was because I was in advanced placement classes, so was easy prey despite the fact that I was marginally a jock girl, on the basketball team and running track myself. It became a daily thing to shove me into my locker, to make sure my nylons were striped with runs before first period, to tip my tray in the cafeteria, to generally make life a misery in all the small ways they could find. My best friend Margaret was a quiet girl, religious and soft spoken and we walked to and from school together and despite the fear of being hurt, she never left me to walk with someone else. One day this boy, a greaser (weren’t we just awful with the tagging of groups back then?). his name was Stephen Facenda and he had a Ducktail greased back with enough vitalis that you surely did not want to light a match near his hair approached us. Each day after, at dismissal, he stood at my locker, an errant prince, and without saying a single word collected Margaret and me and walked us a few blocks away from the high school, turned and left us. Each day we thanked him and he nodded. He was a little scary at first but we soon grew used to his presence and favored him with cookies and cake to try to get him to smile. One day, Margaret had a drama club rehearsal and I was waiting for her so no Stephen. I was standing outside the auditorium and three girls came up behind me and started pulling my hair, kicking me and despite my cries for help, no teacher appeared. But the doors to the auditorium swung open and out came Margaret. And not sweet Margaret………avenging angel Margaret with a bag full of history books and a look of redemption in her eyes. For someone who never played a sport, that girl had an arm. In seconds they fled. We sat on the floor, crylaughing. Holding on to each other. That day the walk home was filled with laughter as we celebrated Margaret’s warrior status and the realization that a green book bag, once a symbol of shame, was now a shining sword of freedom. Stephen continued his mission for that entire year. The next year, he was not in school. I wondered about him. His kindness was such a gift for two weary girls. You cannot conceive the many without the one. |
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awww...that story just made me cry...sorry you got to go though through that...but thank Lord for having a few wonderful people like Margaret and Stephen... i wonder how they are doing, if you met now??? and i wonder how the those mean girls are doing now... 
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It had some bad in it. But What a beautiful story of friendship and protection. very touchy. it is always good to have friends. I know that all my life. Friends are the ones that makes it safer and better. Usually friends put themselves on the line of fire for you. I saw that in here too. many people did that. they were that trowing comments instead of books hahaha. Thank you for the beautiful story. I say you should look up Margaret and Steve. 
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Beautiful story. And a nice *trick* on the *pink* thing, too.... 
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so I guess i'm supposed to comment to make this show up as a post hello You cannot conceive the many without the one.
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Friends are a treasure, aren't they?
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I like this story. I had such a protector too, when I first went to high school. Ernie Davis. A few upperclassmen were gonna stuff me into a locker when greaser Ernie turned the corner. He wore a white T shirt with a pack of Luckies rolled up in the sleeve, and black chinos. He didn't much like frat boys and all he did was shake his head at them. They scattered. Ernie kept an eye on me after that. Nobody fucked with me again. One hug for you and one for Ernie. Become a member now and get a free tote bag.
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Thank you for sharing that story, it touched me. Happy HNW Live life to it's fullest! If you're bored, Read Hugs Gypsy
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I think back to the protectors I had...and the times I've been protectors for others. My brother - 2 1/2 years younger than me - was a freshman when I was a senior. He was tiny (maybe 5'1 or 5'2) and one of the kids you knew was going to spend the first year in the locker or in the trash can. I still don't know how I had the nerve to do this but I went up to "the" group of football players and said - see that kid over there? that's my brother. Anybody touches him and they'll deal with me (or words to that effect). Not once was he messed with. I had no idea I had that much power. It was always easier for me to use my power for others. Hugs to Margaret - she reminds me of my bestie. My money would be on her in any fight and yet she's the kindest, gentlest, sensitive person I know. And hugs to you...always hugs to you! xoxo Always tell the truth Use kind words Keep your promises Giggle and laugh Be positive Love one another Always be grateful Forgiveness is mandatory Try new things Say please and thank you Say your prayers Smile ~Author unknown
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Pink half nekkid was a good choice, but perhaps you assume to much about us, and too little about yourself. Happy HNW. Wearing Pink and Taking a Stand Against Bullying, on HNW A Pervs View of the Olympics Building a Better Buni [post 3312759] My Private Blog – Tell me All your Secrets
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I love your stories. And I'm glad you're still in touch with Margaret.   
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Great story Happy HNW! Drop in and visit my blog sometime, but you'll probably regret it 
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Mostly, I've needed rescuing from boys and men throughout my life. There was a Buffy the Vampire Slayer about a girl who was so ignored in high school that she became invisible. That was me. I'm so glad that you had protectors and defenders when you were bullied! And then you became a protector in your own life. Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety. Other women cloy The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies. For vilest things Become themselves in her, that the holy priests Bless her when she is riggish. ~~ from Antony & Cleopatra
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I liked the twist on Pink and the life story even better. Vive La Difference
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