Jeremy Feist isn’t proud of himself for having beat someone up, but he is proud of refusing to be the victim of a bully.
Originally appeared at JeremyFeist.com
I’m not a violent person, I swear. The closest I come is when I do a BDSM scene with my boyfriend, and even then, he’s the dom and I’m the sub. I make for an excellent pain sponge, but that’s it.
That being said, don’t mistake my unwillingness to fight as an inability to do so. When you grow up with three brothers with Irish blood (read: Beer) in their veins, you kind of need to figure out how to defend yourself so that your face doesn’t turn into a shapeless meat-form that resembles undercooked roast beef. That means that you need to figure out how to take a punch and how to deliver one right back. If someone cried, Mom or Dad would magically appear with an ice pack and a heaping helping of screamed guilt. And then it would start again the next day.
The training helped toughen me up a bit, which helped balance out my more fey and delicate attributes. Yes, I baked cookies and I couldn’t throw a football for shit, but I could also take a right hook to the jaw without breaking down and hold my own in a fight. It was a useful skill to have, albeit one I didn’t plan on using all that often, not that I was given many opportunities to do so.
This is the story of the one time I had to use it.
In grade school, I fell in with the weirdos and geeks, which really shouldn’t surprise you in any way. It was me, Warren, Rylee, Ryan R., and Marco F. We would all one day grow up to be writers, artists and pyrotechnicians, but at the time, we were just a bunch of kids who liked playing Gamecube and watching Marco F. find new and exciting ways to blow up anything we could find using fireworks he stole from his Dad.
One day, we were at Ryan’s house, busy sculpting dinosaurs out of plasticine so that Marco could stick a firecracker up its ass and blow it right back into extinction. We’d huddle around the tiny clay monster, standing mid-rampage in his driveway with the fuse of a cherrybomb sticking out of its ass, before a loud CRACK would turn it into clay shrapnel. We were prepping the next blast victim, a poorly-crafted stegosaurus who looked like thalidomide pinata, when Joey R. came up to us.
Oh Joey R. What a fucking choad that guy was. Joey went to another school, but due to his proximity to Ryan’s house, he would still zero in on me. What can I say? I was an easy target. Between my hand-me-down clothes and the sissier qualities imbued upon me by my latent gayness, I might as well have painted a target on my head while wearing a shirt that said “Ask me about my oh-so punchable face!” I had enough bruises, cuts and bumps from him to last me for a looooooong time. Actually, if you look closely at the left-side of my forehead, you can still see a very tiny scar he left me with.
That day, Joey decided to announce his arrival by smacking his stick against the road as he approached, flanked by his nameless toadies. I’m not sure if they even had names. If they were characters in a movie, they would have been billed as “bully kid #1″ and “bully kid #2″. They were classic 80′s movie bullies, right down to their preppy-haircuts and suburban-punk clothes, and they too came packing heat with their hockey sticks and a bag of paintballs.
“Hey gay faggots, what are you doing? Being gay?” he said, his taunting arsenal built entirely around various permutations of “faggot”.
“Shut up, Joey. We’re playing Dinosaur-Killing Meteors,” said Ryan, trying to brush off the trio of dicks.
“We’re playing gay Dinosaur-Killing fag Meteors!” mimicked back Joey, in a high-pitched tone.
“Go away Joey, no one here even likes you,” I said trying to move them along as quickly as I could.
“Whatever queer, you’re a gay fag anyway.”
This wasn’t the response I was looking for. “Go away, or else we’ll tell Ryan’s Mom on you,” I said. Yeah, I know. Real scary threat.
Having exhausted his supply of “fag” synonyms, Joey decided to move on to the next phase of his genius plan. Bully kid #1 handed Joey his bag of paintballs, and Joey preceded to grab a handful and slam them into the side of my head.
The force of the paintballs against my head must have knocked a part of my brain lose, or triggered something primal deep inside of my id, because in the instant between when my eyes instinctively closed for the blow, and when they finally opened again, I somehow managed to pry the hockey stick out of Joey’s hands, wrestle him to the ground, force the shaft of the stick against his throat, and deliver blow after blow to his head.
“JEREMY!” came a shrill, angry voice behind me. I turned around to see my mother, stepping out of her sedan and marching towards me. How the hell had I forgotten I had asked her to pick me up? Of course, the one time I would get into a fight with someone other than my brothers, she’d still find a way to track me down and scold me for fighting.
I got up off of the shaking, beaten hulk that was Joey and made my way over to my Mom’s car, where my first instinct was to look in her side mirror to make sure my hair was all right. Yes, even when I was in total shit and my knuckles were covered in the snot and blood of the bully whose ass I just kicked, my primary concern was whether or not my hair looked good. Joey and his lackies retreated back to his house, while Ryan and my friends sequestered themselves back into Ryan’s place.
“It’s not my fault, Mom! He was bullying me!” I said, trying to lessen the time I’d eventually have to do for this one.
“Just get in the car,” she said, whisking me back home away from the scene of my little crime.
Back home, my parents sat me down in the lecture chair for what I could only assume would be a long talking-to, followed by heaping helpings of guilt, shame and grounding. My Dad sighed, looked at my mother, then back to me. “You understand that what you did was wrong, right?”
“Yes,” I said, bracing myself for what was going to come next.
“Good,” said my mother. “Okay, you’re free to go.”
And that was it. “What?”
“Just take it and go,” said my Dad.
“Okay,” I said, running down to the basement to play Mario Party 4.
Yeah, go figure. My parents caught me in the act of completely beating the shit out of a kid, and all I got for it was a reassurance that my moral compass didn’t need to be recalibrated. How the hell did that happen?
Looking back on it now, I think part of the reason I was given a pass was because my parents recognized that there was a difference between my defending myself and Joey bullying me. Kids these days are being given two competing messages: That they will be victimized by bullies, and that fighting back is wrong.
Bullshit.
Here’s the thing: Whenever Joey would punch me in the nose or kick my ass or beat me up, he was trying to tell me that I was powerless and that he was stronger than me. When I finally snapped and kicked Joey’s ass for a change, what I was saying was “no I’m not, now stop punching me you dick.” He tried countless times to get his message across and failed. I gave him my message once, and guess what? It went through. I stood up for myself, and do you know how many times he beat me up after I showed him I wasn’t a push-over?
Zero. Never again. I stood up to a bully, and he never tried to fuck with me again.
Let’s get this straight: I’m not proud of myself for beating someone up. Absolutely not. I am however very proud that I stood up for myself and, because of that, I never got beat up again. I’m not going to advocate mindless violence for the sake of making yourself feel bigger at someone else’s expense, but hell, if you’re only two options are “Punch this bully in the face once” or “accept that you’re a victim and internalize your pain until it implodes on you”, guess what? I will plant my fist so hard into a bully’s face, his kids’ heads will be concave.
It gets better. That being said, sometimes you’re gonna have to get your hands dirty to make it better.
Photo courtesy of Noel Feans
About Jeremy Feist
I had a similar experience when I was in 2nd grade except my bully was a big 6th grade girl.. every day a push or shove, then a punch or two… then she graduated to kicking me in the balls, and she was tought that by the school as a means of “defense” against men…thanks school….. she got one well placed kick in one day, never again I swore to myself. I kept to myself and avoided her stomping grounds, then a couple of weeks later, she comes at me again… I moved to the left and landed a nice right handed jab to her face.. the look on her face was priceless..” you cant hit me” she said…” your not suppose to hit girls” was the next blurb form her swelling face.. victory was mine and that girl never messed with me again. This was 1973/74 and on the playground it was war.
I don’t get why most men are so against hitting girls in self-defense. Punching someone for no reason is wrong, but if someone’s attacking you, you better protect yourself and I don’t think it matters what gender the person attacking you is.
“I don’t get why most men are so against hitting girls in self-defense.”
It’s a cultural thing. Boys are taught that they aren’t supposed to hit girls. Similarly a lot of girls are taught that they’re not supposed to hit anyone…though I know plenty of girls ignore that. When I was bullied, for example, I was always pretty sure that if I got physical I’d get in trouble, no matter what the bullies were doing to me.
I’m all about teaching kids not to use violence to solve problems. However, I think we sometimes take it too far and by saying that violence is never an option, we end up teaching them not to stand up for themselves.
Not everyone is going to agree with your message, they’ll say you’re promoting violence or some other BS. But I’ll quickly share my experience. I moved around A LOT after my parents divorced, right up until my father was sent to jail for another drug offense. Shortly after I moved in with my mother, we then moved AGAIN. Being the new kid is never easy! Not even for someone who was 4″ taller and 50 lbs heavier than his classmates. An older boy on the bus teased, taunted, and eventually resorted to hitting me when he realized his words didnt phase me. One sunny afternoon a good portion of the student body on the bus joined in and were egging on his behavior. At some point, he challenged me to get off at his bus stop and fight. In a moment of insanity, I got off the bus after him and many of the other kids followed. As the bus pulled away, he turned around in amazement that I’d taken him up on the challenge and tried to get in a quick sucker punch. With sheer surprise and acting on the adrenaline that had built up in my nervousness, I dodged and quickly landed a left hook, pinning him to a parked car with such delight that he immediately called out for me to stop… and I did. He didnt bother anyone else on our bus. And from there on, I never let anyone put me or my friends down. I stood up for others as well, because not everyone had my size or strength to defend themselves. Bullies have a lack of respect for other people. I believe its something they learn from family experiences, but I dont know for certain. Violence should NOT be the way we have to teach respect, but sometimes, that last resort will have to do!
Why the heck did you not go to MY school? I would have shadowed you non-stop. I was teased, bullied non-stop, but I had a paralyzing fear, like the one you see in a deer with floodlights on it. It wasn’t until in my early 30′s when my brain chemicals changed drastically from the pent-up frustration that I was in a constant state of aggressiveness that was a danger to myself and others.
Definitely, a wisely dosed aggression in the correct time and place is way better than out of control psychopathy later.
Would you like to be my mentor?
Right on! It’s like Malcolm X said, “I don’t even call it violence when it’s in self defense; I call it intelligence.”
I wish I’d fought MY bullies when I was a kid!
I like this article. It’s only too bad that I feel most people would dislike it, because it does seem like boys are encouraged to avoid violence, even when they’re acting in self-defense. It’s a big part of the demonization of masculinity that boys are told to just ignore bullies when they should stand up for themselves instead.
That doesn’t mean go looking for a fight, nor does it mean throw preemptive punches. But if someone’s talking smack, talk it right back. If they attack you, defend yourself.
I suffered a lot of anti-Semitic bullying as a kid, and because I defended myself I consequently got kicked out of a lot of schools. Like, every school in my district. But it was worth it, because I felt better knowing I didn’t let others just do whatever they wanted to me. That said, I have an intense dislike and aversion to violence that continues to this day. I won’t fight unless I really believe I have no other choice.
Hopefully someday the lessons we’ve learned in dealing with bullies will find a more receptive audience than it does today.
How is this a demonization of masculinity? What does fighting have to do with masculinity?
Fighting and aggression ARE a part of the aftermath of the average male’s brain, not just a social construction. Should it be this way? Nature doesn’t really care for what is socially acceptable or politically correct.
This is not what happens to all males, it does happen to some women, and sexual orientation is not determinant to this happening or not.
A higher level of testosterone in blood has been linked to higher levels of aggression, may it be physical or social, also.
I want to like this article, but it’s difficult.
The problem has to do with escalation: what if Joey R. had a gun?
What he did was wrong, no question, and in an ideal world, we should be able to stand up for ourselves.
Unfortunately, I lived in a bad part of a major city for years. I know that sometimes the bullies, at VERY young ages, have firearms.
People should be allowed to defend themselves, but sometimes it’s just not that simple.
It’s generally good advice, but everyone knows not to hit a lunatic back don’t they?
I’d take it one step further, Mike L.
What if Joey R. had back up or lackeys just as big and strong as him? What if Joey R. said he learned his lesson but then came back with lackeys just as big and strong as him to continue the torment?
Plus, I have major problem with this whole “Give him or her a good thwack and they’ll leave you alone”.
Not all kids are built for self-defense or to deal the kind of damage needed for a bully to leave you alone. Of course, there’s lifting weights, martial arts, etc.
But here’s the thing: Every child has the basic right to a supportive, safe environment. And an education. Telling them that they’ll have to throw a punch in order to earn it isn’t exactly supportive since, like I said, not everyone is built for physical retaliation. So they have to spend a lot of precious moments of childhood or youth pumping iron and taking martial arts lessons, time which would be rather used towards the things they have a basic right to.
I’m not saying don’t give them these options anymore. Some work, some don’t. I’m just adding some perspective here because whenever the topic of bullying comes up, we get people who always think beating the bully up will solve things and that alienates a lot of people like me who is a survivor of bullying and not physically built to deal adequate damage nor possess any fighting skills whatsoever for adequate self-defense at the time then. All I wanted was a safe environment and people to turn to for help.
Fighting back is not about having big muscles or knowing how to fight, it’s being willing to fight. Not everyone can fight back, and most people aren’t built for it, me included, but I think the point the article is trying to get across is that you can’t show fear in the face of adversity. There are a lot of ways to retaliate, a fist certainly isn’t the only one.
Sometimes, it’s not the actual hitting that does the trick but the ritualization. To some bullies, just knowing that the bullied stands up for his own, gives them a different perspective. Others will not stop at that, they do want to inflict physical pain, and can carry that feeling on.
Periodically, it is necessary to go to war. That’s just the way it is amongst humans. There’s no getting around this fact, whether it is the playground or the world stage.
That’s just the way it is. The hand wringers sometimes don’t seem to appreciate this fact. Nor do they seem to appreciate the fact that when war comes, it’s best not to fight with one hand tied behind one’s back.
As for the school yard, well… Teachers are supposed to be the agents of peace and order on the schoolyard. Teachers can’t be everywhere, and in some places (not in my country thankfully, but definitely elsewhere), teacher’s don’t pack enough heat to be credible enforcers. Life really is like that too. Look at Iraq. Who was going to protect them from the depradations of others? Also Kuwait in the earlier war?
Even if you can’t defeat the bully, it is necessary and laudable to make the bullies think twice by fighting back. Sooner or later the bully will learn their lesson, because someone bigger and stronger always comes along eventually.
But I’ll stop here before I embarrass myself.
The Wet One
That’s dangerous logic if you carry it to politics. Physical confrontation is something we grow out of after we (hopefully) learn to deal with bullies, and bullies (hopefully) realize that you can feel good about yourself without trying to make someone else feel bad about themselves. When we grow up we learn to fight with words, not with fists, and sometimes (though rarely) we learn to have discussions to work out our differences as adults. There’s no reason we shouldn’t carry that principle over into the political world.
I agree completely.
I was taught not to be violent, instead I internalised my rage. Then it all came out in one go, and I strangled a bully until he passed out, then the ambulance had to be called to resuscitate him.
People should defend themselves if attacked. Bullies look for the weakest kid and attack him. Violence is acceptable in self defence.
…and I strangled a bully until he passed out, then the ambulance had to be called to resuscitate him.
multiple likes
The Wet One: “Periodically, it is necessary to go to war. That’s just the way it is amongst humans. There’s no getting around this fact, whether it is the playground or the world stage.”
War should be a last resort. Not something that should be neccessary.
The Wet One: “Look at Iraq. Who was going to protect them from the depradations of others?”
You’re kidding yourself if you think the Iraq war was neccessary in the first place or started on good intentions in my opinion.
The Wet One: “As for the school yard, well… Teachers are supposed to be the agents of peace and order on the schoolyard. Teachers can’t be everywhere, and in some places (not in my country thankfully, but definitely elsewhere), teacher’s don’t pack enough heat to be credible enforcers.”
It’s true, yes, but does it have to be this way all the time?
The Wet One: “Even if you can’t defeat the bully, it is necessary and laudable to make the bullies think twice by fighting back. Sooner or later the bully will learn their lesson, because someone bigger and stronger always comes along eventually.”
LIke I said, it doesn’t always work out that way. In the case of myself, there were a lot of bullies. What was I supposed to do? Clean all their clocks, rearrange their faces? DId anyone seriously expect someone like me, not built chiseled or intimidating, to take every single one of them on to earn the safe and trusting environment I needed to function on a balanced level?
That’s what I hate about being expected to “Punch them out”. It puts too much onus on the victim to take care of things all by themselves. And we’re talking about children of all people. Do they have to pay a price for a safe and trusting environment? That’s the issue here.
I agree with all that you have to say. However, then there is the real world which just isn’t fair or ideal. As a result, violence is sometimes necessary. It won’t always works, but to expect it not to be a tool to be used to deal with some situations is unreasonable. It always has been a tool and always will be a tool to deal with certain situations. Used wisely, it’s can be an effective tool.
That’s just the way it is here amidst the humans.
The Wet One: “However, then there is the real world which just isn’t fair or ideal. As a result, violence is sometimes necessary.”
In the real world, if the kind of physical violence involved in bullying were to occur there would be police and law suits to contend with as adults.
The Wet One: “It won’t always works, but to expect it not to be a tool to be used to deal with some situations is unreasonable.”
Only as a last resort when all other options have failed. You’re right, it’s a tool. That I agree with.
The Wet One: “That’s just the way it is here amidst humans”
Too bad it is. Sick world.