Reader\'s Digest Australia - 08.2019

(やまだぃちぅ) #1
taller than me, which made the
whole experience so intimidating. I
felt ashamed and became increasing-
ly withdrawn. When I tried to stick
up for myself, every part of my body
would tingle and my mouth would go
dry. “Sssstopit! Llleave me alone,” I’d
stammer.
Well, one of two things can hap-
pen when you stand up for yourself:
either the bullies get the message and
leave you alone – or the bullying gets
worse. In my case, it got worse.
At 9am the next day, as soon as I
walked through the school gates, it
started.
“Hey, Pumpkin Head!”
The name Pumpkin Head was
gaining more and more traction.
Even though I wasn’t one to stand up
for myself, my instinct for self-preser-
vation kicked in every now and then

and I’d bite back.
I don’t remember his name, as
keeping track of all my tormentors
wasn’t easy, but I can picture him:
bright orange hair, buck teeth, and
ruddy skin covered in freckles. We’d
just arrived at our woodwork class
and taken our positions at the work-
benches dotted around the room.
The teacher was yet to arrive. Quietly,


I set about doing my work and ‘f lying
under the radar’.
Then this kid piped up. “Hey,
Pumpkin Head!” The voice came
from the other side of the classroom
and I recognised it.
Without looking up, I shot back,
“What, Carrot Top?”

GOODBYE PUMPKIN HEAD
Resilience is a popular word these
days. Throughout most of my teen
years, I had zero resilience. Mostly I
felt worthless and ugly. Or just numb.
All those bigoted nasty comments
behind my back seemed right. I was
convinced I was a pathetic wretch
from a seriously dysfunctional fam-
ily and nothing was ever likely to
change. But then, miraculously, in
Grade 10, things finally did change.
It was a Saturday morning. A car

and trailer had pulled into the drive-
way of one of the f lats across the road.
Through my front window, I watched
as a group of people unloaded the
contents of a trailer.I know him,I
thought, spotting a boy.
Stan was a kid in my year at school
who’d never given me any grief. Like
me, Stan kept to himself. However,
unlike me, Stan was a big, powerful,

I WANTED TO SCREAMBUT REFUSED TO GIVE
THE BULLIES THE SATISFACTION OF KNOWING
HOW MUCH I WAS HURTING INSIDE

122 Augus t 2019


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