My bullying story is from eighth grade, when I was thirteen years old. I grew up in a very small town, and I had always known and gone to school with the same kids. My town, my school, my friends - this was my world. My school divided classes into sections by a rough measure of academic prowess, and there were about a dozen girls in my section. We had all our classes together, ate lunch together, and were the best of friends. One day, everything changed, and I had no idea why. Suddenly, no one spoke to me. I was shunned everywhere. I was an outcast with nowhere to turn, and no one would even talk to me to tell my why they “hated” me. I was beyond miserable. I was terrified. And I was trapped. I spent a lot of time soul-searching, trying to figure out what I could have done, but I had no idea. Months later, the girl who had been the ringleader apologized to me and told me it was because of a conversation she and I had had in which I impulsively asked her to be my best friend. Since she was best friends with another girl, this made her mad, and she rallied the other girls to punish me for it. There were, thank goodness, some girls who stepped up to help, most notably a girl who lived across the street from the ringleader. She came out of her way to walk to school with me, tried to intercede for me with the bullies, and gave me friendship and someone to talk to. I still had to face the classrooms alone every day, since we weren’t in the same section and didn’t have classes together, but it was the salvation of my soul in every other way.
I can trace the onset of my lifelong problem with anxiety attacks to this months-long bullying episode. I also made some very important life choices based on my fears and anxiety from what happened to me then. I will never be the same person I was before. I will never trust friendship the way I did before. I will always see those girls – even post-apology – as people who were capable of that kind of cruelty. I eagerly forgave them at the time, desperate for my life to return to normal, and I maintain relationships with them through social media even now. (Some live nearby, but I see them only when we run into each other in public, as you so often do with old friends.)
Letters to a Bullied Girl begins with the story of Olivia Gardner, bullied by her classmates because of her epilepsy. Sisters Emily and Sarah Buder heard about her and organized a letter-writing campaign in which people could write to Olivia and express support and offer help. Adults, children, even whole classrooms responded, and this book is a compilation of some of those letters.
I admire Emily and Sarah for their compassion for Olivia. I admire Olivia’s strength and resilience. I understand the comments of those who say “what good is this?” but I can only point to my friend Beth whose single compassionate presence gave me hope. You never know how much kindness like that means until you really need it. I hope the letters helped to give Olivia hope, and I hope that this book gives other kids hope.