Bullying
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Hardcover
When I was five years old I lived next door to a kid, Stephen Millstein (or was it Millstone?), who introduced me to life on planet earth by beating me up each day. I was a skinny guy, he was fat. I'd walk out of my apartment, look up, let the warm Los Angeles sun baste my face, inhale the aroma of freshly mowed lawns, breathe in the smoggy air, and then see Stephen leave his apartment, look up at the warm L.A. skies, inhale the smell of cut grass, get a couple of lungs full of smog, then walk over, knock me down and sit on top of me. After this had happened—oh, say, four or five hundred times—I took to avoiding Stephen.
My father heard about this situation and explained the psychology of bullies: they are basically cowards. If I stood up to Millstein (whose father was a psychiatrist, by the way) and let him know that should he try this again he was in for some serious shit (my word; my father didn't swear), he'd back down and the situation would resolve itself. So, against my better judgment—which told me to just head in the other direction, and fast—I stood up to Stephen, whence, he knocked me to the ground, got on top of me, and panted halitosis-flavored smog into my face.
I've always wondered what would have happened had I rejected my father's advice and, instead, gotten out my Lone Ranger six-gun, substituted silver bullets for caps, and ended Steve's sojourn on earth. Would I have spared dozens--hundred--of others from the Millstein treatment? Or did he grow up to be a mensch, maybe even a humanitarian? I wonder what that fat kid's sojourn on earth has been like?
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About Walter
I was born in Brooklyn, NY, grew up in Los Angeles, CA, and have lived in the San Francisco Bay Area since attending UC Berkeley (class of '68).
My most recent book is "George Gershwin: An Intimate Portrait" (University of Illinois Press, 2009).
My other...
Connections
not the 100% solution
I stood up to Stephen, whence, he knocked me
My husband at nine, lost a leg in a serious accident. When recovered and back at school, there was a bully who made fun of him and pounded on his upper arm just for fun. He and his buddies would laugh as they walked away.
A counselor advised the handicapped kid to meet the challenge, make a counter-threat. When the bully saw that he was no longer dealing with a push over--he quit. He made a crude remark and signaled to his buddies that they'd find something better to do.
I guess you can't second guess the outcome.
The solution
I think you're correct. Your husband did the right and brave thing. It probably does work 99% of the time. I guess in this one way I'm part of the one-percent.
who knows?
I guess in this one way I'm part of the one-percent.
And there is no telling ahead of time.
You do what seems best at the time.
Glad you're still here.
The world is full of Stephen
The world is full of Stephen types but karma is strange and the older one gets the fewer Stephens we happen to encounter. I think its because they all die out upon reaching twenty or so. m
Stephen-types
Maybe so. I wonder if there are any studies about what happens to bulliess as they get older.