Talking About Bullies

My six-year-old and I had a long conversation the other morning about bullying. The conversation arose from events I heard from my bed as a conflict between the six-year-old and his little brother escalated. The older brother was telling the younger how a game was going to be played and what he was expected to do. The elder's voice got loud and then, as I was about to intervene, the unmistakable hollow thud of the fist of one striking the chest of other. Now fully awake and involved the six-year-old quickly attempted to hug his brother and say that he was sorry. That, I explained, was not enough.


As we processed what had happened I introduced him to the concept of bully. "A bully," I explained, "is a big kid who is mean to little kids in order to control them." To bring the idea home I leaned on his current fascination with Spider Man. "Peter Parker," I continued, "uses his powers to help those without powers. He does not use them to get his own way. That is why he sometimes says, 'with great power comes great responsibility.'"

I was a little surprised at the impact the conversation had on him. "Bully" has become a new word in his vocabulary. It is a good thing that it has. They, and those who would be, will always be with him.

I have long taken issue with the stream of liberal thought which in the process of favoring some victims over others legitimizes the violence of preferred movements while denouncing that of incorrect movements. Chang-Kai-Shek is vilified while Mao is justified. Castro is hero of resistance. Batista was an oppressor. The crimes of the Shah must be publicized. The tendency of the mullahs to execute rape victims for adultery or homosexuals for existing is overlooked or, at worse, construed as justifiable response to the excess of the Shah (and the CIA).

Stepping aside from the ideological ax sharpening of the right or left we should acknowledge that bullies come from all walks of life, from all nations and movements, and from all political inclinations. The temptation to tyranny is present in the human soul, as evidenced in the tyrannical attempt of my oldest son that morning. If we are to be moral, we must guard ourselves. If we are to be free, we must resist it in others.

Aristotle taught us that we become brave people by acting bravely. Likewise we become the kind of people who stand up to bullies by standing up to bullies. Only if we are individually practiced in this virtue in the challenges we face in the microcosm of our everyday lives can we hope to become a people who practice such resistance when faced with societal challenges whether they be foreign or domestic or come from the right or the left of the political spectrum.

Bullies will call us un-American for being imminently American. Bullies will accuse you of being racist for seeking accountability. Bullies will threaten to withhold economic cooperation for speaking out against human-rights abuses. Bullies will threaten to kill unless we prioritize their piety over our right to be profane. If the key philosophical problem facing the race is the problem of suffering, the most important pragmatic concern is the resistance of the tyrannical.

Contemporary pedagogy has focused on the inherent righteousness of the individual (if only we protect and nurture them properly) to such an extent that it must deny the inherent flaws within us all. Instead of training men and women to resist the school yard bully we equate the assertiveness of resistance with the aggression of tyranny. Young women are not taught to stand up to the "mean girls" and young men are not instilled with the self-confidence to emotionally resist the taunts of the strong boy or click.

I am not advocating a return to the schoolyard scuffle (though I do not fear it) but am attempting to emphasize the importance of its internal corollary: the willingness and the ability to say "No" in the face of physical or emotional blackmail or threat. In dictating a "zero tolerance" disapproval of violence that makes no distinction between victim and bully, between tyrant and freedom fighter, we are undermining the training ground for the virtues upon which the best of Western Civilization stands or falls.

The presence of children committing suicide in response to bullying is a personal tragedy but should also serve as a social warning. We are not building young people with the resilience to face-down their tormentors. We do not need to teach them to kick their opponents in the knee. We do need to train them in the confidence to say "No" without fear of the consequences because they will then grow into adults able to say "No" to the oppressors that will come later in life. To say “No” to those who would enslave the populace to anything other than our national covenant to respect the rights of one another. That training begins in our homes and families. We need to foster it in our schools. We need to honor it in our public space. We need to confess when it is we who are guilty of acting the tyrant in our home, nation or world.