Zach Stands Up

It’s not easy to admit it, but when I was younger, I bullied another kid in my parochial grade school while out on the playground.

I remember that Bobby’s clothes were wrinkled and often too small. He was awkward playing sports and was in the lowest reading and math groups. I also remember that he came from a large family, and there were rumors that his father was an alcoholic, or perhaps something even worse. Looking back now as a therapist, it is clear that Bobby’s family system had some kind of dysfunction—perhaps trauma, poverty, or addiction—and perhaps Bobby had an undiagnosed learning disability. Whatever was going on back then, I thought I was better than him. After all, I was in higher math and reading groups, I was a good athlete and a popular kid, and my parents were willingly involved in my school. Writing these words makes me cringe with guilt and embarrassment, but as far as I saw, Bobby was an easy mark.

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