Are you part of the problem, or the solution?
Bullying.
It's one of the main issues on everyone's radar these days. We hear stories from our friends or our kids; feature films double as public service announcements highlighting the consequences of schoolyard or online bullying; news programs report on teenagers who have been teased and tormented to their breaking point and see no other option but to take their own lives.
We talk about the need to stand up to bullies. We are all encouraged to speak up and speak out for our peers, for those who may feel helpless or defenseless against their perpetrators. We are taught that we should be a part of the solution, or else we are part of the problem.
I believe these are all strong, powerful, and necessary messages. They challenge us all to do more and discourage us from turning a blind eye to a problem that I believe is societal, not individual, in nature.
We often hear these messages in relation to school-age bullying. As adults, we might have the tendency to think that bullying is confined to the younger generations -- something our kids go through, and something that we will hopefully be able to help them successfully conquer -- but not something with which we, as grown up, adult, mature people, need to concern ourselves...
Except for the fact that we do.
I was recently witness to an act of workplace bullying. A new employee had just started a position on my unit, and was quite blatantly made to feel unwanted and unwelcome by two other members of the team when I introduced them to her.
The new employee smiled politely. She said she was glad to meet them and that she looked forward to working with them, and then without another word we both walked away.
The incident sat with me for hours, and even days, afterward. I felt angry with my colleagues; I was ashamed and embarrassed for the way they treated a brand new, completely unsuspecting, member of our team who had done absolutely nothing to deserve the hostile welcome she received.
And then suddenly, it dawned on me:
I was angry with me.
I had done none of these things. I had not stood up for my colleague. I had not spoken out and let the bullies know that their behaviour was unacceptable. I had not become part of the solution.
I know what it's like to be bullied. I was victimized at various times through my childhood, perhaps not as badly or painfully as others who've come before or after me, but victimized nonetheless. I distinctly recall one occasion in particular, my heart pounding and my knees wobbling, as I walked toward the vice-principal's office to tell him I was being threatened by two of the "cooler", more popular girls in my grade over an article of clothing that I had been asked to hang on to and subsequently misplaced. I remember feeling afraid, not only that the bullies might find out I'd told on them, but also that maybe I was the one who was actually in the wrong. After all, I was the one who'd lost the sweater. Maybe I was over-reacting. Maybe I deserved the threats that came my way.
The wounds from this experience and others like it have long since healed, but the emotional scars remain. They show up every so often in a number of forms -- anxiety, insecurity, or the need for validation, to name a few. I can't even begin to describe how it might have felt to have someone hear that initial threat (and there were observers) and stand up for me in a moment where I felt belittled and ashamed and unable to stand up for myself.
The fact that I perpetuated such a cycle in my adult life -- a time when I should presumably know better and do better -- sits heavily in the pit of my stomach. This workplace incident was a painful reminder of the fact that bullying is not confined to the classroom or the school yard. It is not something we naturally grow out of as we grow older. We need to take a lesson from the lessons we are making every effort to instill in our youth realize that these dynamics will perpetuate well into adulthood if we do not make active, concerted efforts to change them.
A close friend of mine has taken the initiative to spearhead a project aimed toward eliminating bullying from classrooms and school yards. The project will encourage staff and students alike to become advocates for anti-bullying, so that kids who are being bullied will have people to turn to for help and support. If you remember the Block Parent program, it's a similar concept. If you're interested in learning more or in supporting the cause, check out The Blue Skies Project.
In the meantime, we would all do well to remember that bullying is not simply a childhood issue. It can affect us all, young and old, alike and we are all responsible for doing our part to break the cycle.
What will your part be?
It's one of the main issues on everyone's radar these days. We hear stories from our friends or our kids; feature films double as public service announcements highlighting the consequences of schoolyard or online bullying; news programs report on teenagers who have been teased and tormented to their breaking point and see no other option but to take their own lives.
We talk about the need to stand up to bullies. We are all encouraged to speak up and speak out for our peers, for those who may feel helpless or defenseless against their perpetrators. We are taught that we should be a part of the solution, or else we are part of the problem.
I believe these are all strong, powerful, and necessary messages. They challenge us all to do more and discourage us from turning a blind eye to a problem that I believe is societal, not individual, in nature.
We often hear these messages in relation to school-age bullying. As adults, we might have the tendency to think that bullying is confined to the younger generations -- something our kids go through, and something that we will hopefully be able to help them successfully conquer -- but not something with which we, as grown up, adult, mature people, need to concern ourselves...
Except for the fact that we do.
I was recently witness to an act of workplace bullying. A new employee had just started a position on my unit, and was quite blatantly made to feel unwanted and unwelcome by two other members of the team when I introduced them to her.
The new employee smiled politely. She said she was glad to meet them and that she looked forward to working with them, and then without another word we both walked away.
The incident sat with me for hours, and even days, afterward. I felt angry with my colleagues; I was ashamed and embarrassed for the way they treated a brand new, completely unsuspecting, member of our team who had done absolutely nothing to deserve the hostile welcome she received.
And then suddenly, it dawned on me:
Stand up to bullies.
Speak up and speak out for your peers.
Be a part of the solution, not the problem.
I was angry with me.
I had done none of these things. I had not stood up for my colleague. I had not spoken out and let the bullies know that their behaviour was unacceptable. I had not become part of the solution.
I know what it's like to be bullied. I was victimized at various times through my childhood, perhaps not as badly or painfully as others who've come before or after me, but victimized nonetheless. I distinctly recall one occasion in particular, my heart pounding and my knees wobbling, as I walked toward the vice-principal's office to tell him I was being threatened by two of the "cooler", more popular girls in my grade over an article of clothing that I had been asked to hang on to and subsequently misplaced. I remember feeling afraid, not only that the bullies might find out I'd told on them, but also that maybe I was the one who was actually in the wrong. After all, I was the one who'd lost the sweater. Maybe I was over-reacting. Maybe I deserved the threats that came my way.
The wounds from this experience and others like it have long since healed, but the emotional scars remain. They show up every so often in a number of forms -- anxiety, insecurity, or the need for validation, to name a few. I can't even begin to describe how it might have felt to have someone hear that initial threat (and there were observers) and stand up for me in a moment where I felt belittled and ashamed and unable to stand up for myself.
The fact that I perpetuated such a cycle in my adult life -- a time when I should presumably know better and do better -- sits heavily in the pit of my stomach. This workplace incident was a painful reminder of the fact that bullying is not confined to the classroom or the school yard. It is not something we naturally grow out of as we grow older. We need to take a lesson from the lessons we are making every effort to instill in our youth realize that these dynamics will perpetuate well into adulthood if we do not make active, concerted efforts to change them.
A close friend of mine has taken the initiative to spearhead a project aimed toward eliminating bullying from classrooms and school yards. The project will encourage staff and students alike to become advocates for anti-bullying, so that kids who are being bullied will have people to turn to for help and support. If you remember the Block Parent program, it's a similar concept. If you're interested in learning more or in supporting the cause, check out The Blue Skies Project.
In the meantime, we would all do well to remember that bullying is not simply a childhood issue. It can affect us all, young and old, alike and we are all responsible for doing our part to break the cycle.
What will your part be?
I love this post!
ReplyDeleteIt reminded me of a time at uni...doing a POSTgrad course in PSYCHOTHERAPY that one of the students was bullied in this way and humiliated. None of us stood up for her and I guess ultimately it was because we didn't want to turn into the next victim. I'm so ashamed that I didn't do anything publicly but did go and speak to her in private, which I'm sure she appreciated but I can't help feeling she would have appreciated it more in public.
I think the way your new colleague responded to them was brilliant - it let them know that their hostility won't get at her and they'll probably be unlikely to do it again.
What a shame that in working in therapeutic arenas, those that are meant to be "safe places", this kind of behaviour still goes on.