A Teacher's Journal 43: Marty Berry

That's why I was totally jazzed when Marty Berry*, one of the biggest freakers in the school, warmed up to me in English class one day. "Hey Billy Bob," he said as he sat down on my desk, "What's shakin'?" Trying to play it cool, I shot the breeze with him for ten minutes before class started. By the time Mr. Marong showed up and told us to dig out our textbooks, he'd offered me a spot at his lunch table.

The next week was a blur. I found myself following Marty and his pals wherever I could, but I never quite felt comfortable. It would have been easy for anyone to figure out that I didn't belong in the freaker crowd -- they were fighters, drug users, and poor students while I was neatly dressed, wouldn't think of using drugs and had never been late for a class. To me though, even an awkward peer group was better than none. At least I finally had a place to "be" in the hallways between classes.

What I couldn't see was that Marty and the boys were only using me for entertainment. What could be more fun than having a geek hanging around! It's even more fun when the geek has no clue that you're laughing at him each time he walks away, right?

The fun for me ended quicker than I had planned. Marty came to English class one day with a can of "body odor" spray he'd picked up at a gag store hidden under his shirt. Twenty minutes into class, I was soaked with the foulest odor imaginable and the class was in stitches. I'd gone from being on the fringes of popularity to being a laughingstock in front of an entire room of my peers. It was nothing short of humiliating.

But my pain didn't end there. Word spread through the ninth grade as fast as the stink. Girls turned up their noses, pretending to be completely offended by my hygiene habits and guys celebrated what they thought was one of the best pranks of the year. The worst was walking past Marty and his gang in the hallway. They were merciless and I had never felt more alone.

It would be easy to argue that the pain of that event hasn't ever ended for me. After all, Marty is still on my mind nearly twenty years later. While physically I was never threatened by his actions, the sense of betrayal was equally damaging and has never been forgotten. His is a story that I share with my students every year. I want them to realize that the moments of meanness that happen between students in schools every day are hurtful and that they have a responsibility to stand up to the Martys of the world.

As parents and teachers, we share that responsibility. By working to raise awareness of bullying and to support safe schools, we can ensure that fewer children experience the meanness that in many ways shaped my high school experience.

*Name has been changed by the author.