Catholic Cords, Cuddies and Bullying - Childhood Nightmare

Be the change you want to see in the world. - Gandhi, Mahatma
I’m going on 58 years old and have a bullying experience that has stayed with me for a long long time, a childhood nightmare you might say.

Kind of hoping by writing it down it will stop having so much importance, and to remind parents, teachers, yard-duty help and anybody in a position to make a difference to stop ignoring verbal bullying, stop acting like it’s not your job to step-in, stop saying kids-will-be-kids, and have the damn courage to be the change you are expecting from others.

A little back ground info first, our family of 6 kids moved to Santa Clara from Arcadia (L.A. area) in 1957, there my 3 older brothers and I went to Catholic school, but when we moved to Santa Clara my parents switched to public school. And with 6 kids and my mom learned early to save every piece of clothing that didn’t have a 2 inch hole in it, my mom knew how to sow so small holes were no big deal – just darn-it up good as new.

With that being said here it is - I’m in the 6th grade Jefferson Junior High, I’ve been growing like a weed and hand-me-down clothing from my brothers was pretty much the norm for me. So when my mom reaches into the bottom drawer and pulls out a pair of 3 year old, belonged to my brother Bob, Catholic uniform, grey corduroy pants for me to wear I thought nothing of it. Actually I remember feeling pretty good about these pants fitting me for a change, and having no holes that have been mended. Remember now Levys were the only pants a boy worn back then.

So off to junior high I go, get to the gate a few minutes early and am waiting for the teacher to unlock it, going to hit the playground running for morning recess. Up walks a couple of kids and immediately I hear laughing, I look around to see what’s so funny and realize it’s me. Understand I still don’t get the joke, why are they laughing and pointing at me, and than I hear “catholic pant eew you have cuddies”. I try to defend myself, but like most kids that have been bully victims words don’t come quick, or sound cool, and my come-back is as dumb as the pants.

I gave some quick thoughts to running home, but the trouble I’d get into from my mom for that move would be unbearable, and besides she wouldn’t get it or let me change pants and I’d be late for school. So in my head I go to plan B – and say to myself “this is an isolated incident nobody else will even notice”. Oh God was I wrong, - that was the most miserable day. I actually had a group of kids that spent the day following me around taunting me with a continual choir of “catholic pants” and what ever name they choice at that moment. They would pick me up as I walked out of my classroom and start right in. They actually recruit other kids (rather successfully) to join them as I went out for morning recess, lunch, and 2nd recess.

When my school day ended I ran home changed into my cut-offs and hide the pants. The next day, I wore an older different pair of pants, which they immediately found something wrong with.

The damage had been done, and until they found something new to tease me about or someone else to tease that was how my day would go. I learned to hate school, and consider adults with distain because of the lack of care or concern on their part.

When it’s time adults need to step-up, step-in and say something - be the courage your expecting other people to have – it will make a difference.