Hello my name is krissy. I am in highschool, a teenager. When i was in jk-gr.1 i had friends, once i started grade 2 i got bullied alot. The popular girls would call me names, say i was poor cause of the way i dressed, call me fat, push me, hit me, and eventually cyberbully me. It got so bad in one year. In gr3 i hoped it was dont but it wasent from gr3 till gr6 it got worse and worse. They started talking to me in person sitting with me, trying to get me to hang out. I hung out once but they bullied me alot. they made fun of my hair because it was short. They made fun of me because of my glasses, they called me four eyed. My dad said to stand up for myself but i never did. I wanted to but then they bullied and i froze. In grade5 i started to stand up for myself but another girl started bullying me. So i started to play with the guys. Soccer and football. The guys didnt bully me they always wanted me on there team. Then in grade 6 the guys started bullying me to but kind of they would maybe call me one name once and a while and laugh when the girls bullied me. The other girl that started bullying me in grade 5 stopped. She thought if she bullied me she would be popular. Me and her are best friends to thisday. She stands up for me. So from grades 2-6 i cried myself to sleep every night begging not to go to school the next day. I was happy for grade 7 because i was going to a grade 7-12 highschool so no more bullies. but they followed. i got bullied in grade 7 and from september-january for grade8 then i moved back to my old school. At my old school for the rest of grade 8 was amazing i made friends and had a blast. The bullies try to bully me online not saying they love me and want to go out (im a lesbian) but i block them on everything facebook, instagram, snapchat, vine, twitter everything life is good. I finished grade 9 with laughter, sillyness, happiness, and i made atleast 20 new friends. They are going to be friends for life. When i get bullied my one friend sticks up for me and helps. My other friend makes me smile everyday when im down or i just need laughter. I never had friends in elementary school so im pretty happy and glad i found these friends. i stand up for myself now and will for ever And i will help others who get bullied it needs to stop so people are not afraid of going online, outside, or to school like i was for 6 years. 

Bullies are dumb. Bullying is dumber. No person should never have to be bullied, but that's the way society is today. One word can hurt someone's feelings whether it's a joke or intentional. Bullying is disgusting and disrespectful. A lot of kids and teenagers go through it everyday, 24/7. Bullying causes depression, anger, and suicidal thoughts. How do bullies get pleasure out of picking on other people? Who knows. It is most commonly found that the victims bully, has been bullied before so they take it out on someone else. Bullying can be physical, verbally, and online. Whether it's either of those things, it's painful to go through. People don't understand that bullying is a serious problem. It can happen right in front of your face and you may not be able to see it. If you see bullying taking place, do something. Don't be a bystander. Personally, I've never been bullied. But I've seen it, and it hurt me inside. It hurts knowing that even though you can help, that moment will never leave your mind. It will effect you in a way to where you want to help every bully and victim. If you are a bully, or you are getting bullied don't be afraid to talk to someone. They will NEVER judge you for what you say. Bullying needs to stop, and it needs to stop fast. #PUTBULLYINGTOAEND

Hi my name is Morgan and I am a victim of bullying at all started in 4th grade I got call ugly , fat , nasty, trailer trash and ALOT more it continued on into 5th && 6th grade. And 7th..8th... This year I have tryed to commit suside 3 times and I was hospitalized 2 time the first time in Raleigh for 2 weeks one time wasn't enough for me I tryed it once more and I was in the hospital for 1 week && 4 days... it's was worse than the first time and I wount y'all to know that Y'ALL R NOT ALONE and that IF U NEED ANYONE TO TALK TO I WILL TALK ALL NIGHT IF U NEED TO and that if u r getting bullied please tell someone if u don't it can get to the point that it like me and has to see a theripist and please if ur having susidal thoughts TELL SOMEONE and YOUR NOT ALONE ONCE AGAIN UR NOT ALONE TELL SOMEONE ....i was also a cutter...

Don't let no body change you

I was bullied my whole life for seeming strange to others. In the earlier years, my OCD was severe and presented itself with such extreme anxiety and compulsions, that my young mind, trying to understand it, decided it was an outside force. I literally thought I had demons threatening those I loved. I couldn't even go to the bathroom at night. I hardly slept. As I'm sure you can imagine, this effected my interactions with others and my productivity and alertness in school. I was a zombie. I had teachers snapping, clapping and making mean-spirited comments at me in class, drawing negative attention to me. I heard the kids whispering about the weird girl. I got shoved around, teased for things I couldn't help, kicked, belongings trashed, touched inappropriately by a few boys who thought I was too quiet and shy to do anything about it.

I switched schools in the 6th grade but everything got worse. There were girls who singled me out, the few friends I had made bailed on me to escape the criticizing eyes of the bullies, rumors flew. Even after going to a new middle school for 7th and 8th grade, I still managed to find myself as the outsider. By that time, I'd done it to myself, standing up to the bullies of others, narrowly dodging several group beatings along the way. It was bad enough, I had to eat in a classroom if I ate at all. And once again, those people I'd stood up for bailed once the heat was off of them.

By high school I found a new group of friends, the bullying shifted in a way, but was still present. I would be tormented in classes where the teachers did nothing, had food thrown at me while random boys yelled how much they apparently hated me, kids I didn't even know! I was called a witch, a devil worshiper, Satan, the un-dead and many more equally unimaginative things that most days barely even registered after awhile. One day, I almost threw a particularly horrible boy over a railing, (our school was two stories) it was the first time I'd actually seen red and luckily one of my few pals I'd made saw my face and grabbed my arm when I went for him. And things got worse. I started screaming at people in class, doing anything to keep people away, wore earphones to keep from hearing them in the halls.

A change began around the time I started a huge fight in my health class. The teacher/football coach (cliche, I know) was not only allowing hate speech against homosexuals, but engaging and encouraging it as well. Every derogatory, nasty slur was used in a matter of two minutes listening to them. Coach began to go off about how disgusting it was and how he wouldn't want to share the communal showers with a gay guy and have him watching. I'd had enough. I raised my hand and told him not to flatter himself, who the hell would want to look at him? Told him he should be ashamed of himself, ashamed that he could be alienating any number of kids in his own classes. That he's an educator and an authority figure, he shouldn't be creating a hostile environment, kids should feel safe in school. A very angry and disgusted TA agreed with me and all hell broke loose in the classroom. I was shocked that I never got jumped for speaking out like that.

Shortly after the health class debacle, I was walking up the stairs between classes and a different group of kids were behind me calling me names. I imagined how easy it would be to turn and kick just one and watch them tumble like dominoes. I briefly entertained the thought of doing just that, but mentally shook myself and realized how sad it was. Not for me, but for them. I realized that one day they would suffer in life for being the way they were. They would miss opportunities. Fail at the important things. Things that took qualities they didn't posses. I knew then that it wasn't worth hurting over. That one day those people would either wise up, possibly even have a child go through something like I had, regret, change their ways, or that they would keep going and one day, someone or something down the line would settle their karmic tab.

I realize now, years after leaving school, that where bullying is still a sensitive topic for me, I can find it in me to be thankful for the struggles in my formative years. I am stronger. I am wiser. I am more patient, understanding and forgiving. I have a much broader perspective. Does that make what bullies do right? Not even a little bit. For me, something good came out of those years of hell, but that isn't necessarily be the case for other kids. Some won't have the X factor, the thing that keeps them holing on, allows them to reach an age where they can put it behind them. Some don't survive it. And now that we have the internet, more and more violence, systems breeding apathy, more and more kids looking for a reason to hurt others, it's all the more imperative that we find a way to end this behavior, the senseless cruelty... and babies dying in classrooms. It's gotta stop somewhere, and nothing is going to change unless we change it. The worst kind of action is inaction. Stand up. Start now. Don't assume it doesn't effect you, because one day it very well might. 

It's hard to reflect on things like this, harder still to reconcile that the biggest bully I had was my own brother. From the time I was 7 until I was 16, my brother verbally and physically abused me. I know that because I was the youngest and the smallest I was an easy target for him. My older sisters took only so much before they would snap and they were able to physically defend themselves. I was easy to scare, easy to hold down and rile up. I didn't understand what was wrong with me that he would treat me the way he did even (and especially) when I begged him to stop.

My parents would tell me to "stay out of his way" and ask me why I would go after him. I did my best to defend myself, saying I didn't go after him, he came after me. This was met with "all siblings fight". My mother explained away his behavior, saying that he hurt me because he saw my father hurt her. The violent and abusive behavior my father exhibited somehow justified my brother hurting me. I tried to listen to her and avoid him. The abuse did not stop. I began to believe that because I was overweight, I was worthless, stupid, awful.

In school, the insults were present, but rarely aimed at me directly. I remember being given a Valentine at school in the 2nd grade that had an illustration of flying pigs, soaring through clouds looking love struck. The boy who gave it to me had written something crude inside that likened me to those dumb looking, lovey pigs. I went into the coat room with my back against the cubbies and sobbed. I didn’t understand why someone would frame something so cruel as a gift. I wondered what I had done to deserve such a thing.

In 6th grade, a very popular boy came up from the back of the bus to where I sat behind the driver. He sat down next to me and, putting his arm around me, asked me out on a date. I could hear his friends stifling their laughter from the back and felt my face flush. I turned and looked into his pointy face and said “Fuck. Off.” I don’t think he was prepared for that, because I remember how quickly he disappeared from my sight. He never spoke to or acknowledged me again. 

These are the only two instances of direct bullying at school in my memory. I am certain, as I am sure most overweight people are, that there were many insults sent in my direction that I was not meant to hear. Inside every bully there is a core of cowardice and, inside that, a core of fear. Some kids were targeted much more directly and relentlessly, and I often wondered why I’d escaped relatively unscathed. It's terrible that I'd sometimes feel relieved that it wasn't me. Mostly, I just felt a deep black rage.

I realize now that the hell I was living at home was more than I could contain. That it likely seeped out of my eyes and person in such a way as to ward off any novice asshole that would have thought to mess with me. What do you do when the bully lives in your home? The things that went on there dwarfed anything my classmates could come up with. It was an excruciating exercise in perspective. I learned to project menace to keep people away from me and, by 7th Grade, I had a reputation as a witch and a dangerous oddity. This seemed to provide me additional shelter but didn't serve just to keep bullies away. Potential friends and friendly adults were also kept at arm's length.

One day during my 7th grade year, my brother slapped me so hard on my thigh that it left a hand print for three days and then bruised. The gym shorts we wore were not long enough and people (including a teacher) saw the mark on my leg and asked me about it. I don't know if a phone call was made to my parents, but I do know that my father screamed at my brother and told him that if he ever touched me again he'd be out on the street. This didn't stop the abuse, my brother just tried harder not to leave marks that could be seen.

I turned my feelings inward, I stopped being the sweet and dream-filled child I had been. I despised my brother, especially because he was popular and an athlete and had so many friends that thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. He'd come up to me in the hall at school and put his arm around me and tell his friend "this is my little sister" and I'd have the choice between looking like a bitch if I rejected him or have to smile and pretend he was just as great as they thought he was. I acted out, ran away, fought back, threw punches and objects. I started to do things intentionally to aggravate him. I'd break his stuff and go in his room when he wasn't home. I wished that he would smash my face in or break my arm so that, finally, someone would stop him or get rid of him. The day he left for college was the happiest of my life.

It's taken me many years and the help of wonderful counselors to understand that I didn't deserve to be treated that way. I had some great friends that I confided in and others that knew that my brother's public persona was not all it seemed. I hope that I will be able to truly forgive him one day. I hope that other kids in similar situations have some outlet, help, support. I know that I couldn't have survived without art and writing. I kept believing there was a better place for me, that the darkness would eventually recede. Those beliefs saved me.

Hello, my name is Mike , a 15 year-old boy that lives in Greece. Im kinda chubby and really short. I remember getting bullied at 13 when I first joined Junior High School (after primary school). Many of the people that are taller with bigger body, started making fun of me because of my appearance. Firstly, that didnt bother me at all, but things got worse when these people called me names , laughed at me and also they even spread the hate to their friends. I tried to seem unbothered. After one year , they stopped callin' me fat or short, but they made up new ideas to make me sad and acomplish their objective. They attempted to point out my behaviour was looking "gay". I didnt get offended by it because I support homosexuallity. After some time , even my "friends" started calling me "faggot" and "gay". At first, I thought they were just teasing me for fun, but they continued. The worst thing, wasn't that I got like "insulted", but it was that I really had a different sexual preference (bisexual). I felt so uncomfortable that i started cutting. Fortunately, i stopped because i realised it didnt offer me something good, just pain.  At this point, i wanted to shout to everybody, "I'm myself and you can't stop me", but I was too weak. After one year,  it was happening the same, but I decided to talk to my best friends. They all seemed to respect my choise, but some of them were treating me differentely... I dont wanna tell them to stop, or complain to them. Well, I have talked with psychologists and they say that I lose myself on a tiny error. Please tell me your opinion about it :) I will really appreciate it :)

My name is kaitlyn. I'm 15 and I'm in 10th. I remember getting bullied since 5th grade. That's when it got worse. From kindergarten to fifth people would make fun of how short I am. They would also make fun of my weight. Then when I went into middle school things went downhill from there. I started getting hit for no reason. I got pushed down the stairs. I was told I didn't belong because I was an outcast. Which was true. I'm not like all the other kids. I'm not a people person and I don't like coming out of my room. That continued on throughout the year. Then 7th grade came along. I went to a different school with a bunch of people I knew. I didn't have very many friends that were girls. I like hanging out with guys cause they were less drama at the time. So it was fine until about halfway through the year. I remember being in class and getting hit in the back of the head. I turned around and nobody was behind me. So I ignored it. Then when I looked forward I saw a piece of cardboard flying towards my face. It hit me right below my left eye. The only thing I remember is how could this get any worse. Everybody was laughing at me. Then I got on the bus to go home and just as I was getting off a textbook got thrown at my head. I remember running home crying. It was literally the worst day ever. So then eighth grade came along and everything was okay. Except I kept getting called fat and stopped eating. This year when I was in 9th grade, everything got worse. I've been told I'm stupid. I'm worthless. I've been told to kill myself. I try to ignore it but sometimes it gets worse. This year I had a friend that wasn't such a great one. Towards the end of the year she started bullying me. I didn't tell anybody because I tried to handle it myself. It went on for weeks. I finally told my mom. She came up to the school and got me because I didn't feel safe being there and I was in tears. I had to talk to the freshman principle. He kept saying he was going to do something about it but never did. Finally my dad found out cause my mom told him. He wasn't happy. I had to talk to the principle and had to explain what was going on. She excused me from my classes and let me go home. The school year finally ended. I couldn't remember being this happy in a long time. It had been a month of fun and no crying. Then yesterday ruined it all. I got bullied again. I thought why can't people just leave me alone. But what I realized is that no, it might not ever stop, but I won't give up. I have good friends and a good family. Try your best to stay strong. You are beautiful in every way. Don't let people bring you down, because it shows them it's bothering you.

When I was bullied I was very unhappy. I was picked on a lot in school, girls was calling me names and I was crying. I didn't know what to do at the time. People that would pick on me was mostly girls, and the reason why girls we're picking on me was because, they were jealous of something that I had and they wish to have it to. How many of you all has ever been bullied before, and it's okay to speak up if you all have you all are not the only one. Just like I say I've been bullied a lot in school. I want to give you all information on bulling, we all need to speak up and tell everybody that bullying can be a serious and dangerous thing. For an example, kids in high school has been bullied and they are afraid to speak up, this girl name Phoebe was picked on a lot in school and she came home one day and went in her room. Her mother was cooking dinner for her and was calling her to come down and eat. No respond, so her mom came into her room and found her daughter in her room. Her daughter had hung herself, her mom wanted to know why she had done it. The reason,  why she had done it was because she was been bullied so bad that she couldn't take it no more. So remember you all are not alone we need to speak up and give the people our peace of mind on why these people are bullying us. For more information visited stopbullying.org or visited me on my mother page it's [email protected]. Thanks again for letting me talk to you all and I hope you all have a wonderful day. Hope you all learned a lot and remember you all are not alone.

Haliwa-Saponi Princess Tiera Lynch 2014-2015

hi

"Go back to your own country. You don't belong here."

 

We've all been there. Being called names for various reasons.

My reason for having abuse directed towards me was my ethnicity. A few couldn't even understand how I had the 'shamelessness' to walk around with so much confidence, and why I was treading on 'someone else's land'. 

---

 

There was one night when my parents and I were taking an evening stroll around our block. We'd usually only walk close to our house, but for some reason, that night they suggested we venture out a bit further. 

So we did; we walked onto a new street that we had only ever driven past in our car before.

The road was a wide one, with three lanes and little shops on either side of it. Pizza Hut was still open, and people were going in and out of the door with pizza boxes in their hands. The smell of melted cheese and pizza dough filled our nostrils as we walked past the shop, with electrical lights guiding our footsteps from both the windows and up above from the streetlamps. It was in no way a secluded street enshrouded in darkness; there were a lot of people nearby that could have stood witness to what was about to happen.

As we rounded the corner to a new row of shops and a parking lot, a car honked somewhere behind us, making me jump out of fright and look back at the source of the noise. The honker sat safely in his old and worn car, accompanied by three others who all sat with a bottle of alcohol in their hands, smiling with amusement at the surprise on our faces.

"Hey man, do you know where xxx street is? We're new around the area."

 

Aged 11, my tensed muscles immediately loosened up at his words. They're just lost, my innocence reassured me, they're not bad people - they just need some help.

But beside me, my mother only held on tighter to my hand. "Don't trust them," she said in rapid Chinese, "pretend we don't know English."

However, being the helpful and prideful man he was, my step father refused to feign ignorance and walked up casually to the car, smiling as he bent down slightly to talk to the driver who had honked. "What street did you say it was?" he asked politely in heavily accented English, "sorry, I didn't catch the name."

"Shut the f**k up, you ugly motherf**ker!" the man sitting next to the driver suddenly hissed, "go back to your f**king country!"

"What did you just say to me?" my step father demanded angrily, "say it again, you immature brat."

He had been a chemistry teacher back in China, so the natural instinct to lecture and control was slowly taking over him as the group in the car all joined in to throw insults and jeer loudly at him. His hands moved to his pockets, pulling out his cellphone in preparation to call the police.

My mother, who had been a civil engineer all her life working on building structures and grounded foundations, only cowered away from the spiteful men who were now throwing sidelong glances at me - the easy prey. "Hide behind me," my mother whispered, never taking her eyes off of the men, "don't say anything. Don't do anything."

Feeling powerless and threatened, I simply did as I was told, rotating myself around her body until I was almost completely invisible from the car's angle. The drunken teenage men had now begun to spit at my step father's feet. My mother, feeling indignant and unrestrained now that she felt I was safely out of the picture, opened her mouth to throw insults back at the men, expressing her own anger in her native tongue. But whatever she said to them, they only laughed and parroted it back at her - understanding that they were inflicting more damage upon her than she was to them. Because she understood their language and culture, but they didn't understand her's at all.

Eventually, the curious onlookers who had begun to exit the shops urged the drunken men to drive away into the night laughing loudly.

My step father had been humiliated beyond his own comprehension - you could see it from the shameful redness on his face. Never before had he been so disrespected. Never before had he experienced such insult from mindless individuals he would have attempted to educate in his old job. But he soon recovered, turning away from the road where the men had driven off into the night. He thrust his hands into his pockets and said to my mum, "Let's go home."

 

That night, I had truly understood the fact that I was different and unwanted in the country I now called home. Not that I had never felt alienated before; but abuse like this has never been so extreme. I always understood that people were different - but whereas I felt differences were in the mind before, I had witnessed the fact that some people believe differences were only skin deep.

I buried my face into my pillow and cried before falling asleep; no one came in to comfort me or reassure me. Such was the harsh realities of the world, and it had been my very first taste of its ugly bitterness.

---

 

In terms of racism, I did feel scared; I still am.

When cars drive past my family and I past 7 o'clock in the evening, I still glance around nervously to see whether anyone was going to throw something at us or shout abuse. When I'm walking alone I still try to remain inconspicuous and humble in hiding my existence.

But I have long since discovered that racism isn't something that can be countered by simply hiding and acting harmless. People who feel like they have more power over you won't simply go away because you aren't doing anything wrong to them; their intention is to wrong you.

So since the day I turned 16, I lifted my chin, and told myself that I am as much of a legal young adult as those men who had thrown abuse at us. In truth, it shouldn't have mattered whether I was 16 or 13 or younger. The only thing I regret now is that I had not been strong enough to stand up earlier. I have as much power to abuse others as those men had. But I also have the same amount of power to stop abuse.

Being a a socially responsible human being, I chose the latter. Not because I am higher and mightier than thou, but because everyone is capable of standing up for themselves and encouraging others to do the same. 

I wanted to spread love instead of the hate that acted as injustice's nutritional income.

 

When I think back now, I realize that the bystanders who had done nothing when they realised a family were being verbally assaulted for their ethnicity scared me more than the perpetrators themselves. I am afraid of the dark - not because of the fact that there may be shadows lurking in the depths of it, but because I will be alone and helpless if something were to try and harm me.

So the most important thing that I tell myself now when I see stand witness to bullying or abuse in any shape or form, is that the victim could very well be me. But instead of cowering away in fear due to the understanding that I would be abused too - I want to stop it altogether in order to ensure that the threat doesn't carry on to myself, people I care about, and the next generation. Even if I could never been on the receiving end of the abuse; I should not try to ignore it and simply revel in my own ignorance.

Ignorance may seem like it is harmless because you are not directly taking action in expressing your opinions. It may seem like you're innocent and not involved, but in truth - you have been involved against your will since the very first split-second when your eyes landed on the scene of injustice.

Ignorance gives silent confirmation and makes those who are doing wrong to think that they are not alone in what they think and do.

Ignorance fuels injustice and crime.

You are not innocent.