Remembering the bullies

Today I was laughing with Zela at some of the silly things that kids will pick on one another about.  Last week she wore a pair of blingy blue jeans that apparently are missing a couple of studs or rhinestones off of the back pockets.  Some girls were pointing it out to other kids on the playground during recess and laughing about it, and one of the kids came back to tell Zela about the drama.

Now, I wish that Zela would have just laughed it off in a silly way and not really said anything at all, but that's not what she did.  Instead she confronted the girls and told them something sassy about fashion sense. 

*sigh* 

While I'm thankful that she didn't insult them that day, I wish she would have just done a little booty shake dance and asked them to count the rest of the rhinestones so that she could be sure to know if any more come up missing.  Either that or just ignored this ridiculousness all together. 

I wasn't teased much as a kid, and I really believe it was probably related to things just not appearing to bother me much.  I was silly and laughed almost anything off, so either it didn't stick in my memory, or it didn't happen much.  Either that or I was just too naïve and oblivious to notice, which is also a very distinct possibility.  They didn't call me spacey Stacey for nothing! 

I do have one vivid memory of a bullying situation in junior high, though.  The reason I remember it wasn't for what the silly bullies said or did, but for what someone did for me in that moment of weakness.  That memory is forever etched on my heart, and I only hope that I am raising children who will react to ugliness in the world in a similar manner.

My dad had just started his firm in the Shreveport/Bossier area, and those first couple of years were slim pickin's financially.  We had just moved, and that meant a new school for seventh grade.  Luckily I had built -- okay my parents had built for me a pretty acceptable wardrobe in the years prior, but unfortunately my feet didn't get the memo that they should maybe not grow any while my dad was investing in and building his business.  The time soon came that I needed some gym shoes, and there was no way to get around it.  I was pretty aware of how lean times were for us, and my mom was desperately trying to find a shoe that wouldn't break the non-existent budget and also wouldn't embarrass me. 

I saw a pair of high-tops in a store flyer that I thought would be okay.  They weren't name brand, but they weren't as hideous as many of the other cheap tennis shoes I had seen, so I asked her to please get them whenever she could.

I wore them to school, and I actually felt mostly okay about them.  They didn't look quite as cool as they did in the ad, but no terrible either.  As the day went on, I thought I may have heard some kids snickering and talking, but I wasn't completely certain they were laughing at me and my shoes.  But oh, what a difference a day makes.  The next day?  That day I was certain that my shoes and I were the butt of all of their jokes.  One of the kids brought in the store flyer that I had first seen the high tops in -- the Family Dollar flyer.  I felt like the entire school did nothing that day but pass around that flyer while pointing and laughing at my feet.  I went from feeling like the shoes were acceptable to feeling like *I* was unacceptable because of a stupid pair of tennis shoes for P.E. that my mom got for me on sale at Family Dollar.

I tried to brush it off, but boy was it was tough to keep wearing those shoes.  I held my head high and smiled and laughed about them, but inside every joke was chipping away at my already weakened self-confidence.  Then an amazing thing happened.  I had a friend who saw what was happening, and decided to actually do something about it.  She had always been kind, funny, bubbly, and outgoing.  She was one of the first friends I made at Doyline Jr High, and although we may not be close now, she left an indelible mark on me.  All of these years later, her single act of kindness in seventh grade is what I think of any time I see pictures of her or her daughter on facebook -- or when I see a kid with hole-y tennis shoes or even shoes that are not name brand. 

Haley saw what the "bullies" were saying about my shoes.  She saw how it made each day that I had to wear those shoes even more humiliating than the last.  It must have moved her in some way, because I remember her telling me to ignore them.  I remember laughing at that notion, as though it were impossible to do.  She tried to convince me that the shoes were not that bad, and definitely nothing to be embarrassed of.  Do you know what she did to prove her point? 

SHE TRADED SHOES WITH ME. 

That's right, folks.  She took my Family Dollar "fitness" brand high tops with pink piping and a picture of a pine tree on the side and traded me for her name brand shoes.  Not only did she let me wear her shoes stamped with the socially acceptable label, but she actually wore my shoes and laughed at those who had laughed at me.  She acted like she liked them -- heck, maybe she really did, but I don't think that was the point.  She practically dared anyone to laugh at her with her confident friendliness and demeanor.  She may have never told the bullies to stand down and she may have never verbally stood up for me, but that girl had my back in a way that no one ever had before.  In that one small gesture, she changed my life.  I still love telling this story, and I hope she doesn't mind that I shared with my small slice of cyber-world. 
I'm not sure why I haven't shared this story with Zela yet, but that's on my agenda for tomorrow.  There's a lot of darkness in this world; Haley's light was one that never got put out.  For that I am thankful, and now I have something with which to encourage my own daughter.  Thank you, Haley, and all of you others out there who continue to let your light shine.  The world needs more people like you.