Constable: Bullying knows no bounds
Bullying is one of those experiences that stays with you - even if you weren't the victim or the bully. I still harbor the coward's pain of being one of the boys standing silently during one grade school recess as our class bully, Bradley, chased an older boy with Down syndrome around the playground. Showing off his new cowboy boots, Bradley uttered a hurtful slur over and over, accompanied by a kick to Ricky's rear.
I suspect that Bradley and Ricky might remember that moment, too.
We read stories of boys and girls who kill themselves rather than face one more day of bullying as a child or teenager facing miserable days at school. But bullying doesn't stop there, which is why National Bullying Prevention Month in October doesn't have any age restrictions.
"It's the same thing with adults. They can get bullied," says Wytress Richardson, 50, a behavioral scientist and associate professor of social and behavioral sciences at National Louis University, which has campuses in Elgin, Wheeling, Lisle, Skokie and Chicago. "It goes across the spectrum. It's human nature to want to be included. It runs the gamut. Feelings of irritability, anger and isolation can come out in anybody."
In a recent discussion with friends about our college days, people recalled stories of sticking knitting needles in a weird college woman's prized stuffed animal, using racially charged music to pester annoying people across the dorm hall or engaging in the widespread bullying once accepted as fraternity hazing. The upcoming presidential election spawns plenty of social media bullying. Workplaces can be rife with similar behaviors, some fueled by sexism, racism or religion. Senior citizens have been known to complain about bullying from nursing home peers, staff or even visiting loved ones.
"I think it's human nature for all of us to want to be liked. When we go to work, we want to feel that we're part of the team," Richardson says. "It's really no different from kids, because we learn how to handle our feelings and emotions as kids."
The bullying of one of her two daughters during middle school inspired Richardson to start the Girls of Grace Youth Center, a not-for-profit charity that operates in two Chicago neighborhoods and offers advice that works in any community. Richardson recently wrote about signs that a clique is making a girl miserable. Irritability, bursts of anger, isolation, changes in behavior, new friends and a new wardrobe can be signals that a girl is becoming part of a negative clique or is the victim of girls in a clique, Richardson says.
The keys to preventing damage require parents to get involved, ask questions, meet a child's friends, meet the parents of her friends and talk about the problems before they become bigger problems, Richardson says. Communication is key for adult bullies and victims, too.
It can be difficult for an adult to say, "Hey, I'm feeling bullied" in the workplace, Richardson acknowledges. But employers, same as parents or teachers, have a moral, and often, a legal obligation to offer help, she says.
"We're so busy with life that we're forgetting about the people," Richardson says, adding that once people in power realize the problems, they can take steps to fix them. "It's key for leaders to create safe spaces and ask, 'What kind of community are we creating?'"