anti-bullying as world-building

We’ve all been teased at one point or another in our lives. In the same way, we have all probably done some teasing of our own—both bullied and bully, a relentlessly self-perpetuating cycle. One which seems to defy most attempts to stop it. What can we do to end the cruelty that frequently defines our experiences growing up, making friends, building careers, or navigating the salty waters of the internet? I’ve pondered this question for decades, attempting to articulate the profoundly personal. That which I know does not exist in a vacuum yet feels so isolated and singular. I know better, though, and seek the systemic. I seek the birdcage, as Marilyn Frye has called it, and see bullying as one of the many bars comprising its enclosure.

I recently spoke with my brother about the nature of teasing and the potential use of the bully. He is straight, cis-gendered, white, and male, with a whole heck-of-a-lot of privilege. I am a trans-masculine, non-binary, medically transitioned genderqueer with cis-passing and white privilege. Our perspectives differ, although we come from the same home, family, background, etc. Our positionality lends itself to the difference in our thoughts. From his view, the importance of the bully stems from the social or informal education one receives from one's peers. In his words, “Who’s gonna teach kids how to act right?” From my point of view, the world would do better with more empathy, compassion, and space for diversity. How better to ensure we leave it better than we found it?

We both believe in the power of an environment when rearing children and socializing youth. We both see the importance of self-expression and its impact on those around us. We also agree that children deserve the space to experiment with their identities to find themselves and their interests. However, our thoughts diverge when we try to discuss what I understand as “functional” or “healthy” and what my brother sees as “productive” or “normal.”

As far as I can tell, healthy adults come from supported and loved children. That looks like being attuned to their needs, encouraging their curiosity, and understanding their separateness from you (in other words, their autonomy). More specifically, it means putting aside your preferences for them and allowing them to make and follow their own. Ultimately, the goal is to raise a “functional” child who is independent, reliable, and capable of world-building (ideally, a better one). On this point only, my brother might agree; however, he feels the approach to achieving this adult should look more punitive.

“I know it sounds controlling…” he stammers as he attempts to justify the violence he suggests we enact on our most delicate, vulnerable, and impressionable members of society. The bullies act as the muscle, the teachers of the status quo, the enforcers of normality. Without them, he argues, the world falls into chaos and perversion.

What if, I say, instead of castigating people for not fitting in, we built something new with them? As adults, we have the luxury of choice in a way that our youth can’t understand. We carefully curate the world, and our decisions within it, and our children follow our example. We model the life, behaviors, words, and constructs taught to us and that we value to this day. So, again, I ask: what if we chose a new way of being? What if we modeled something different and taught ourselves and our children to…say, love unconditionally? Or trust more openly? Communicate more kindly? Or even express the Self more freely… what if?

The cruelty of a culture that, at worst, protects and, at best, ignores the bully is one that has no social value. Children do not need to “learn how to act right” at the hands of a bully. Doing so only perpetuates the violence that the bully uses to deliver the lesson.

Perhaps the work of changing patterns and cycles of abuse and violence is too great for this one essay to outline. The scope may be too big for this piece. I can’t pretend to have the perfect answer, but it starts here, with us and how we speak to each other, in person and online. Be thoughtful, kind, and honest with your words. Be impeccable with your intent. Deliberate and earnest. Above all, remember why we’re here, both on this platform and in this world: to build community. If we can do and remember these things, we might encourage significant change in how we engage with each other.