The Missing Introduction

I had planned to be brave tonight, but the opportunity to say these words was not given to me due to decisions made beyond my control.  So, here is a slightly edited version of what I had hoped you would learn earlier tonight:

I made a promise to myself when I was in college.  I made a promise that if I was ever in a position to keep even just one child from experiencing what I went through in school, that I would take that opportunity without reservation.  To explain that promise, I need to tell you something about myself that I don't usually talk about. 

When I was 14, I attempted suicide.

It's not a secret.  Many of my friends know.  I'm comfortable talking about it... but it's just not a topic that comes up in casual conversation over bagels and schmear at shul.

All throughout my years in school, I was "teased" and "picked on".  No one ever used the word "bullied" back then.  Looking back, I would personally use the word "abused".  Anyone who knows me is very much aware that I march to the beat of my own drummer (sometimes literally).  I always have.  But, when I was a kid, I payed dearly for it. 

I was verbally and physically assaulted daily by my peers.   In the beginning I asked for help.  I soon learned to stop talking about it, because it was either my fault for being different and not working to fit in, or any punishment my tormentors received would make them attack me more often and with a greater vengeance.  It was easier to just deal with it myself than to trust in an adult.  Bumps and bruises, stolen and damaged property - I was clumsy and forgetful enough that it was easy to pass them off as accidents. 

After a while, I found the physical attacks easy to deal with.  I got good at defending myself, and my status as a teacher's pet meant that I never got in trouble for finishing a fight.  The verbal attacks were a different animal.  They called me everything.  I was fat, ugly, stupid, but also a braniac, too tall, and then too short, I didn't have the right clothes, not enough money, I was disgusting, unlovable, and worthless.  When they ran out of the run-of-the-mill insults, they came up with the worst label they could throw at me.  I must be a lesbian.  I was not only worthless, but now a deviant and a pervert, because I had no interest in chasing after my idiotic male classmates.  I was told everyone would be better off if I never existed.

And I believed them.

Obviously I'm still here.  I managed to survive because I realized that ending my pain would hurt my family more than living could hurt me.  Eventually I went off to college, where I found out I was quite normal and perfectly lovable, even the weird parts of me...  I am still proud of the fact that I was voted in the top 25 members of my college class for homecoming court.  I didn't win, but I didn't have to.  For the first time ever, I was a contender in a popularity contest.  (Ha!)

And so this is why I am telling you my story.

No one should have to experience what I went through in school.  My teachers tried to help, but had no support to make the broad cultural changes needed to keep me safe.  School leaders felt that teasing was a normal part of growing up, and that it even builds character.  Parents felt that children should conform in order to avoid being singled out, because it's "normal behavior" for children to pick on people who are different.

And there was a time in the not so distant past when that was also considered normal behavior for adults...