In light of the recent spate of bullying stories, Charles M. Blow, the New York Times op-ed columnist, recounts his harrowing story of being bullied alternately by classmates and extended family.
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I have watched with a heavy heart these last few years as one child after another has committed suicide because he or she was bullied.
I know that pain. I, too, was bullied as a child. And I, too, considered taking my life. I was 8 years old.
It happened one night on a trip to the local skating rink. I had a pounding headache, but, still, I wanted to go. After all, a trip to the skating rink was a rare treat. So I grabbed a bottle of aspirin, put it in my pocket and jumped into the car.
Inside the rink, the mass of skaters propelled themselves with synchronized lunges, dipping and swaying to the rhythm of disco tracks blaring from giant speakers. They lapped the rink in unison, like a dog chasing its tail and with the same mesmerizing delirium — laughing and dancing. Lovers held hands. Learners held on.
Read Charles M. Blow’s entire column at the New York Times.
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