#oneaday Day 495: Bullying

Inspired by, of all things, an episode of Death in Paradise that had bullying as its core motive for murder, I feel inspired to reflect on some past incidents where I have encountered bullying. Because there have been quite a few, and, honestly, I'm not sure that many of them ever ended up being resolved in a particularly satisfactory manner. (I have not, to date, committed murder.)

This might be a long one, just to warn you. I haven't written it yet, so I don't know, but I have a feeling this might be a long one. You have been warned!

I have always been a somewhat awkward individual to varying degrees. In my middle age, I now know this to be an autistic spectrum disorder, of course, but growing up (and onwards into young adulthood) I never really sort of felt like I quite fit in.

In primary school, I somehow attracted the attention of several bullies. I don't recall doing anything in particular to rouse their ire initially; I guess I was just seen as an easy target. The kid with the unfashionable hair and the big ears and the posh-sounding voice.

This started early on. Kids from the upper end of the school would pick on me, a kid considerably younger than them, mercilessly. I would be taunted for my ears, I would be insulted, I would even be beaten up. Occasionally I would lash out, and inevitably get in trouble for doing so. On multiple occasions, I recall my frustration at the sheer injustice of it all being such that I ended up deliberately provoking the bullies in question so they would do something they shouldn't have, and I would do my best to ensure it was within eyeshot of a dinner lady. But, again, I don't think anything substantial ever really got done about it.

Oh, sure, the bullies might have been put in "the yellow book" once or twice (our headmaster thought it was cute that people getting in trouble could get put in "the yellow book" or "the red book" according to the severity of the transgression, using football's yellow and red cards as an analogy) but they suffered no lasting consequences for their actions and demonstrated no remorse whatsoever.

What's worse about being bullied at school is when some people see you getting bullied, they decide to side with the bully — whether just for a quiet life or because they genuinely wanted to be seen as one of the "cool kids" — and that, on more than one occasion, included people that were supposedly my friends. On multiple occasions, I fell out with these supposed friends because they had decided to pick on me, not in that sort of silly, lighthearted way you do with your friends, but in the same way as the bullies. It really sucked, but pretty much every time I eventually forgave them, for ours was a Christian school, and forgiveness was What You Did.

As I progressed up the school and my former tormentors left, I still wasn't free. Some days people that I otherwise got along perfectly fine with would just turn on me, and I'd be left with nowhere to go, full of anger and frustration at a world that just wasn't fair. I was doing well academically — probably one reason the bullies decided to pick on me, as shameful as that might sound — so it was upsetting and frustrating that I couldn't just enjoy school. What made things worse is that there were other people in the same "top groups" for various subjects at me, and they never suffered like I did; they were "in" with the "cool kids" and thus never had to contend with this.

When I arrived at secondary school, I hoped that it would be a fresh start. And it was, to a degree. On my first day, I was sat next to a kid named Murray, who I didn't know because he had come from a different primary school. I turned around to my friend Matthew and said, with some genuine anguish, "I can't remember how to make friends," but he just shrugged and continued getting along with the person he had been sat with. I attempted to make small talk with Murray, but it didn't really go anywhere.

Some time later, Murray decided that I would be a suitable target for bullying, and he took to insulting me and physically abusing me to varying degrees. It was relentless, and all too familiar to me — and this time, it was coming from a member of my peer group, and thus someone I couldn't easily escape from.

I cracked one day. After he'd been flicking rubber bands at me all morning, I turned around, grabbed him by his collar and thumped him really hard in the face. Unfortunately, the moment I had picked to do this was exactly as our headmaster was walking around the corner, and he saw everything.

To the credit of the school's senior staff (and my parents, when they were informed), they agreed that I had been pushed too far by Murray's behaviour, and they understood why I had lashed out, but they also made it clear that what I had done in response was also unacceptable. My secondary school wasn't a Christian school like my primary school, but it still very much held the attitude that the "correct" way to respond to a bully was to "just say 'no' to them". Like that helps when you're being beaten up.

As a result, I ended up put on "report", which meant that for a week, during lunchtimes and breaktimes, I had to report to a member of staff every five minutes and get a sheet of paper signed. As a deterrent for doing anything stupid, it was certainly effective, but it was also mortifyingly embarrassing. I recall bursting into tears in the dining hall, surrounded by my bewildered friends, at the frustration of the situation. Because it was frustrating, but in that instance, I, at least, knew that Murray had suffered a harsher punishment than I had. I believe he was suspended for a short period; he may even have ended up expelled at some point, because I actually don't remember running into him again beyond year 7 — though that may just be the haziness of the distant past talking.

At secondary school, I once again suffered those occasions when people would inexplicably turn on me without provocation. I absolutely was not a cool kid as a teenager; I had terrible hair (and no understanding of how to make it not-terrible, a trait I maintain to this day and primarily avert by shaving my head), I had teenage zits, I probably smelled bad, and I wasn't into anything cool like football. I understood early on that cliques formed, and I was fortunate enough to find myself in a little clique of my own, and those friends mostly stuck by me for the majority of secondary school. But there were still days when, for one reason or another, they'd decide to play up at my expense.

I think my least favourite incident in this regard was the time when, on attending the local county concert band, as I did on a weekly basis, I overheard a girl I thought I got along well with (and rather fancied, truth be told) talking to her compatriot from another school on Second Clarinet. She was being less than complimentary about someone, but the conversation sounded amusing and fun. So I asked her about it during the break in the rehearsal. She laughed it off and said nothing, and I knew immediately that it was about me. I don't know if she intended me to overhear, but I never quite felt the same about her after that.

On one particularly memorable occasion, a fight was organised between me and another kid also named Peter; I had no particular beef with him, so this fight being organised was more baffling to me than anything. I suspect it was the kids responsible wanting to feel like they had "power" over people, like they could make them do anything. I hope they were severely disappointed when neither of the two Peters turned up to the supposed fight time and place.

As I progressed through secondary school, bullying became less and less common, and completely non-existent by the time I reached sixth form, which is one of many reasons I look back on that period as one of the best times of my life. It was bliss to be in an environment where I could thrive, surrounded by people I got along with and liked, and not bothered by people who, for whatever twisted reason they had justified in their mind, wished me ill.

I was fortunate enough to not encounter any bullying during my time at university, either. I had a good group of friends who were very supportive, and we were a close-knit group that did a lot together. That staved off any interference from anyone who might wish any of us harm — we had one another's backs if it came down to it, but it never did, thankfully.

When I finally left university as a qualified teacher, I once again encountered bullying — not just as a teacher tasked with resolving such incidents in his class, but also as a member of staff. I felt ostracised and unwelcome among much of the staff of one of the schools I taught at, including my own head of department, and felt very unsupported. It was this, among other things, that contributed to my having a nervous breakdown on the job; I will forever be grateful to the few teachers on that staff who would give me the time of day, and who were supportive, both during that particular episode and when I just needed a good rant come 3.30 in the afternoon — the head of the English department and the head of Drama in particular.

And that wasn't the end of it. When I worked in retail, I had what appeared to be a dream job for quite some time, progressing through the positions it was possible to have at the store, and learning a lot in the process. Then one day, I learned that one of my colleagues and friends was being mistreated quite badly by management; I agreed to act as a witness in some frankly unwarranted disciplinary proceedings he was suffering, but managed to end up with a target painted on my back as a result. I ended up bullied out of that job, even going so far as to bring official grievance proceedings against the managers responsible — but of course, that went nowhere.

Management closed ranks and completely ostracised me from thereon, so I wrote them a six-page resignation letter than explained exactly why I was leaving. To my great satisfaction, this letter caused the entire management team to lock themselves in a meeting for an entire day. It didn't help my career — I had already committed to leaving, anyway, but it sure felt good.

The penultimate incident that happened is one that still genuinely causes me traumatic flashbacks to this day — and I will name and shame the company in this instance. SSE, the energy company, by far the worst place I have ever had the misfortune to work, and that includes three failing schools.

SSE's corporate culture is to obsess about safety. And I'm not joking. This is a company where you get told off and written up if you're seen not holding a handrail going up stairs; where you get a stern warning from your manager if you drop a pen under your desk and don't wear a "bump cap" to retrieve it; where the obsession with Safety is an active detriment to productivity.

My problems there actually didn't stem from this side of things at all, surprisingly; it stemmed from my team leader and her team leader, both of whom one day apparently decided to take a dislike to me. I had been working well as someone who helped keep SSE's poorly organised website up to date, and I had even led up a project to completely refresh M&S Energy's website, since that was actually part of SSE. I was a productive member of the team, and, up until this point, I had thought I was getting along with everyone.

One day, I was pulled aside by these two individuals and presented with a letter saying that I was to face disciplinary action for looking at my mobile phone too often during work hours. This was back when I was big into Twitter, and thus my phone was something of a lifeline for communicating with far-off friends, particularly since the friends I saw in person on a semi-regular basis were already starting to become… less regular sights.

Also, I didn't really feel like it would be a problem, since not only was I completing all the work that had been assigned to me in a timely manner and to an excellent standard, all the other members of my team — including the one accusing me now — were on their phones all day every day, and I even caught one of them writing a fucking novel on her computer when she was supposed to be working.

Apparently, because I was still technically on my probation period, they decided to treat this complete non-issue with the severity of if I'd just fucked the photocopier and made the CEO watch or something. I was given notice of a disciplinary meeting whose outcome was clearly decided in advance, and given the opportunity to plead my case. I did so. I was fired, and because I was still on my probation period, that was that, then and there. It was abundantly clear that I had just been bullied out of a second job for no discernible reason other than two people had inexplicably decided to take issue with me. Maybe I made them look bad by getting work done more quickly and better than them. To this day, I genuinely have no idea; I just know that I hate those two individuals.

I yelled obscenities at the gathered group around the table, because I figured if I was never going to see them again, I might as well. I was fucking furious. And I still am, every time I think about this scenario. During particularly low ebbs of mental health, I find myself back in that room, surrounded by people who inexplicably hate me for no reason, and I want nothing more than to lash out more than I actually did. Flip the table. Fling a phone at someone. Beat someone with their folder of "evidence" (which, aside, was remarkably empty-looking). Go much further than yelling "fuck you" and storming out of the room, slamming the door so hard a picture fell off the wall.

That side of me scares me a bit, to be perfectly honest. It scares me that my mind conjures up such images — and it scares me that every time I feel like I've been pushed to feeling like that, it's because I've been bullied; it's been a situation that has been beyond my control.

There is a more recent example, too, that relates to my time at USgamer, and honestly I've always been hesitant to talk about it in specifics for a whole manner of reasons, but suffice to say that, too, was a very obvious instance of bullying. More than ten years later, I am still furious with the person responsible, and how they have never, ever seen any consequences for their actions — and likely never will. The most I can do is never, ever buy a book with his name on — and perhaps punch him in the balls if I am ever unfortunate enough to be in a room with him.

And this is to say nothing of the numerous minor incidents I have encountered over the years where a complete stranger will insult me and threaten me because of the way I look, and my weight. All of those are bullying, too. The most recent of those was just a couple of weeks ago.

As I say, the most frustrating thing about bullying is that, more often than not, there is no closure. There is no justice. And, if you've ever been a victim of it, that really sucks — because all you can do is pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and hope it never happens again. That this last incident, finally, will really be the last time you have to suffer.


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#oneaday Day 807: Bully for You

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Courage is fire, and bullying is smoke.

— Benjamin Disraeli

Bullying is an odious practice, awful to witness and even worse to be the target of. Yesterday — and I am going to keep details deliberately vague here — I witnessed a good friend of mine get pretty ruthlessly picked on by people who should know better. Their words were continually twisted and very selectively shared with a wider audience in order to gain support for the bullies and tear down my friend piece by piece until the point they were trying to make — which I shan't go into here but I actually agreed with — was all but lost. My friend was left ridiculed and humiliated having been called a whole storm of names from people he had, in some cases, never had contact with before. Meanwhile, the bullies were left looking like white knights who had saved the day.

It made me very angry.

Bullying is about power, insecurity and, very often, a desire for approval. This incident — which took place on Twitter — was an apt example of all of the above. The bullies had a great reach thanks to their profession and their high follower counts, giving them a large amount of power by default. The fact that they were only selectively sharing the things my friend said with their followers was a sign of insecurity and a lack of faith in their own argument. And their desire for approval speaks for itself, really — otherwise why would they have engaged in such a toxic, public argument? It was deeply unpleasant to see and, as I say, the perpetrators in question should really know better than to behave like that.

I've been the victim of bullying on a number of occasions through my life, so I can relate to the feelings my friend has undoubtedly been suffering as a consequence of this incident. I suffered physical violence and ostracisation by my peers at primary school and, to a slightly lesser extent, at secondary school. I've been a victim of what I call "passive bullying" at one of the schools I worked at, where I was regularly left to sit by myself in the staffroom and was never invited into any friendship groups or cliques — a situation exacerbated by my own social anxiety, which was made worse by this going on.

And I've suffered outright workplace bullying, which is what I'd like to take a moment (edit: several thousand words, I apologise in advance) to talk about here, as it has relevance to the incident I described above — adults who should know better, in other words. Disclaimer: I shan't be naming specific names here, but those who know me well will likely already be familiar with the particular incidents that I'm about to describe. Those who aren't familiar with the specific instances I'm going to refer to, I hope they open your eyes a little to the fact that bullying among adults is most definitely alive and well, and it should really be unacceptable in a civilised society.

This is not an easy thing to write about, and will likely go on for some time, so I thank you in advance for indulging me and reading this.

It started with a review meeting. These were a regular occurrence at the place of employment in question, so there was nothing new there. Said employer had fairly strict policies in place to help control its public image — namely, employees were not permitted to engage in discussions relating to their job and the things they dealt with in the course of their daily work, and were not permitted to speak to the press. Not that that was ever an issue to my recollection. Given that all this was around the time that everybody and his dog was getting around to joining Twitter, it was a hot topic. I knew this, so I always took great care to never refer to my employer by name online and never to discuss the specifics of what I do.

So it was with some surprise that in my review meeting it was "suggested" to me that my target for the next review a month later should be to "stop talking about work on Twitter". At the time, I didn't think much on this until a little later, when I realised that such an "admission" — which had come from my reviewing manager, not from me — would look bad in the cold, hard light of the Policy and Procedure manual. As such, I took the opportunity to take the managers aside and politely request that my "target" be changed to something more appropriate.

My request was bluntly declined, and one of the managers even offered to go back through my tweets and highlight the ones he found particularly objectionable. I knew the ones they would be referring to — but as I said previously, I had always taken the greatest care to never share my place of employment in the public domain, and never to mention the specifics of my job. Their justification was that "people who knew me would know what I was referring to". I could see that fighting this would be an uphill struggle that I didn't need to have at this time, so I reluctantly acquiesced and the "target" stood firm on my file. I never mentioned anything even vaguely work-related from that point on.

I worked in a small department at the employer's place of business. We were understaffed and overworked, and this situation wasn't helped by the hasty dismissal of two members of our team who had been with us since "the beginning", as it were. One was dismissed for a Facebook prank gone awry, the other was dismissed following the complaint of a client. Both were disproportionately harsh penalties for the supposed misdemeanours in question — in the latter case, the client who raised the complaint was notorious among the non-management members of staff as someone who was difficult to deal with and rude as well as being someone who completely flouted the terms and conditions of her working relationship with us. The situation could also have been completely averted with managerial involvement — something which my colleague immediately sought when things got heated, but was unable to secure due to the fact that they were all locked in their office (busily dismissing another colleague, as it happened).

I sat in on the disciplinary proceedings and subsequent appeal for my colleague and friend. It was horrible to see. His arguments were fair and valid, but little heed was paid. As his nominated "second", I was able to ask questions which were to be recorded on the official notes of the proceedings, so I took great pains to think of some questions which would help clarify the situation in a way that would make my colleague look — as he was — innocent. Three questions into my list I was effectively told to shut up and stop slowing things down. It was abundantly clear at this point that no real consideration was being given to my friend's arguments and the issues I was hoping to raise — the decision had already been made before we walked into that room, and the same happened in the appeal process. It was utterly demoralising to witness.

So, two members of our team down, we struggled to keep up with the increasing demand for our services from clients. Our efforts were not helped by the introduction of a new initiative which had come down from Head Office which made life considerably more inconvenient for both us and our clients. As a team, we called an urgent meeting to discuss this initiative and how it wasn't working, and were ignored — despite the fact that written complaints from clients had come in echoing our own sentiments along with frustration at the fact that the two dismissed team members' particular, specific skill sets were no longer available.

One manager in particular had started watching us — and particularly me, for some reason — like a hawk. When we weren't dealing directly with clients, we were supposed to have time to train and improve our own skills so as to be able to provide a better service. It was a system that had worked well in the past and had allowed all of us to learn a lot both independently and from each other. By this point, though, any training session we held proceeded with the manager in question breathing down our necks, regularly asking what we were doing in an accusatory manner and frequently sending passive-aggressive emails about all the things we were supposedly doing wrong.

By this point, I had come to the conclusion that I did not trust the managers, particularly after witnessing the way they had treated my former colleagues. As such, to avoid hassle and confrontation, I made a point to stay out of their way, keep my head down and just get on with my job. My clients appreciated what I did for them (I'm aware this makes me sound like a prostitute but I'm being deliberately vague in all this!) and frequently sent in glowing letters of praise, and my colleagues appreciated it when I helped them using my own specialist knowledge. In short, I was doing just fine by myself.

One day, I was pulled aside by another of the managers and asked why I wasn't talking to them any more. I was accused of blanking them on the way into work — patent nonsense, I might add — and threatened with "behavioural conduct" proceedings if I didn't change my ways. I wasn't clear at all on what I had supposedly done wrong in their eyes, however — since I had had no need to speak to them except when seeking permission to perform specific tasks, I simply hadn't. A "keep out of my way, I'll keep out of yours" situation, if you will. It worked fine for me, but I wasn't specifically blanking them or anything, nor was I "resisting" any suggestions or feedback on the rare occasions when it was provided.

The latter incident, however, convinced me that it was probably time to move on. To prevent awkwardness, I spoke to one of the managers — not the one who had raised the "behavioural conduct" issues, but the one who had been watching over our shoulders while we trained, as it happens — and explained that I wasn't happy, I wasn't satisfied with my career progression (I couldn't see a clear onward path from my position at that point) and that I was considering moving on. I explained that I wanted to be open and honest about the whole thing, and that I did not want it to be the cause of any ill will or bad blood.

It was at around this point that the opportunity arose for me to do some "work experience" of sorts with a friend in the local area. Said work experience would provide me with the opportunity to move sideways into a different career that I was qualified for, and it would be a good opportunity to get some references for job hunting, since I already knew that my then-current employer's references were nothing more than stock letters that confirmed start and end dates. I explained to the manager that this was a possibility, but that I did not yet know the dates for when it would be happening as my friend had to clear it with her employer. I also explained that I would simply book holiday for the time in which I would be undergoing this (unpaid) work experience, as I still had the vast majority of my holiday allowance available.

As it happened, the week for this work experience eventually fell a week after a week-long holiday I had already booked months in advance to go and visit some friends abroad. I followed procedure to the letter, booking the extra week well ahead of time and going to the extra trouble to include a letter explaining the situation — that I understood it would be inconvenient for me to be away for two weeks instead of one, but that I had booked it as early as I could and that the unfortunate timing wasn't really up to me. I even offered to compromise by working some extra shifts in the couple of days I had between the two holiday periods. I got no response at the time, and when I checked in the system just before I left for faraway lands, my second request was marked as "approved".

While I was away, I received an email from the manager in question explaining that they were supposedly still considering my second week of holiday, and that I should go in to discuss it with them upon my return. It had already been approved, remember, so upon getting back home I printed out proof of this approval, took it to my meeting, expected to show it to the manager in question and that be the end of the matter.

It wasn't. Suddenly there was a whole ton of conditions attached to this week of unpaid work experience, the reasons for which I had been completely transparent about. Suddenly I needed a letter from the place I was going to confirming that they were going to offer me a job (I'd never said any such thing was a possibility). Suddenly there were all these hoops to jump through for a week of "holiday" that was, let's not forget, already approved.

I'm afraid to say that I lost it at this point. I was frustrated, tired, upset and angry, so I lost my cool and demanded to know why the manager was seemingly going out of their way to make my life difficult. It was a mistake to get upset — I knew that at the time, and I regret it — but while I was stood there talking about it there felt like no other way to express the frustration that had been building up inside me, the culmination of what had been by this point months of harsh treatment, mistrust, passive-aggressive messages and a complete refusal to listen to the team.

It had the desired effect, at least. The manager was stunned into silence, but unfortunately their next move was to phone up our overall manager who happened to be on holiday at the time. By all accounts, our overall manager was a rather weak, ineffective sort of leader, so I didn't expect him to achieve much. I lost my patience and simply left. Reasonable discourse was obviously out of the window on both our parts. Eventually, I simply left on my work experience week and heard nothing more about it until when I returned, at which point I was summoned into the office and invited to discuss the incident in a "recorded conversation" typed up by one of the other managers. I was totally misrepresented in the course of this meeting and made out to be the aggressor rather than someone simply frustrated by being continually stonewalled, and I was not allowed to leave until I had signed this document which contained numerous inaccuracies that would undoubtedly not look good on my file. Panicking and upset, I signed the document and left, not sure what to do next. I spent the remainder of the day regretting that I had signed the incriminating document, wishing I had torn it up instead.

To cut an already-long story slightly shorter, over the course of the next few weeks, the managers in question were even tougher on me. I found myself accused of various "misdemeanours" when in fact there were legitimate reasons for all of them — lest this sound like "she doth protest too much", let me give you a rather vague example: one client had a question about a particular service, I happened to be in a position to answer a question and demonstrate a solution about said service using my own personal account so I did so. The client left satisfied and happy, but this was ignored in favour of the fact that I supposedly shouldn't have been using said personal account during work.

This feeling of constant surveillance and being pulled up on even the tiniest things was getting to be too much. I was starting to feel the tell-tale signs of stress and depression tugging at my brainstrings, so I knew it was time to get out before I had another nervous breakdown. I tried to bring an official grievance against the management team regarding their treatment of me and the team — specifically regarding the holiday incident — but was unsuccessful. The justification? That I was bitter I had been passed over for a promotion and was thus simply causing a fuss. This was utter nonsense, as I knew the person who did get the promotion (one of my two colleagues who were dismissed, as it happens) was infinitely more qualified for the position than me, and had said so at the time. Thoughts of promotion had not even crossed my mind since I had tried for that position.

That was the last straw. I penned a very lengthy resignation letter and handed it in to our ineffectual wet-lettuce of an overall manager as I left one day. The following day, no staff members saw a single manager outside of the office. At the end of that day, I was summoned to the office and my notice was accepted, but rather than working it — something which I had said I was more than happy to do in my letter as I knew clients appreciated my services, knowledge and manner — I was told to leave and not come back. I was forced to say goodbye to my friends "under guard", as it were, and was specifically directed not to say goodbye to those who were around (not directly engaged with) clients and potential clients. I was escorted from the premises, and it was made very clear that I would not be welcome back. It was the final humiliation in a long line of belittlement, chipping away at self-esteem and insecure exertion of power.

I just hung around the city for a few hours. I remember sitting on a park bench and crying, then going home and crying some more. I was devastated. A job which I had once described as the most positive, supportive environment I had ever worked in had become a toxic, mean and deeply unpleasant place to spend time, and I had been hastily ushered out of the door before I had a chance to say a proper farewell, presumably out of fear that I would sow the seeds of discontent among the staff. They were already there, though; they didn't need any encouragement from me. In fact, a number of colleagues came to me after the fact noting how much they respected me for standing up to the bullying of management, and wishing they had the balls to do the same. It made me feel a bit better, but I was still crushed inside.

I don't normally hold grudges and am a very forgiving sort of person. But I have never forgiven those few people who took an amazing job that I adored and poisoned it beyond all recognition, leaving it a withered husk of its former self. I still remember that last day vividly, and it still upsets me to think about. I can't remember ever feeling so belittled and humiliated, or so frustrated at the fact that so little justice would be done to the people who had made me — and others — feel this way.

If what it takes to get ahead in business is to be a bully who tramples on the self-confidence of others to compensate for their own insecurities, then I'm quite happy toiling as I do in relative obscurity for an employer I like and respect a great deal. I am eternally grateful to the awesome people I have worked with and for ever since the awful times described above.

May you never have to suffer a similar fate.