Lead Pencils

INTRODUCTION BY STUART W. TWEMLOW, MD

Barbara Young's wisdom distilled from 92 years of aware life strikes a major cord in understanding school violence and bullying. The bullies themselves in her family experience were relatively trivial. The most central issues were the way the parental figures including teachers responded. Barbara's teacher had an extraordinary grasp of what underpinned her mistake, and gave her support for her response. Barbara's sister was not as lucky. She suffered punishment from both her father and teacher, although she was not lying. She had not chewed the pencils. The single trauma left its lifelong mark. The two children were different in their self-esteem, and the lifelong impact of a single trauma is well illustrated. Once more it points out that bullying does not have to be repetitive by a sadistic psychopath surrounded by cheerleaders. The essence of bullying is the impact of single or multiple trauma on children's lives, and the bully is not a sick child just one caught up in a regressive socioanalytic process that encourages their aggression and destructiveness.

In the Midwest in the 1920s, bullying was carried out primarily with fists or by coercion and exclusion. We children first encountered this threat to our complacency when the family moved to a small town in 1924. Our presence apparently set off a rumble of dis-ease in the status quo of the community of boys. Harvey, at nine — tall and thin, self-confident and friendly — was challenged to a fight by the leader of the pack. Arnold was his name. Though Harvey fought valiantly, he was knocked to the ground where he lay surrounded by jeering boys. He got up, nonchalantly brushed off the dirt, and started to walk away. Looking back over his shoulder straight into Arnold's eyes, he shouted: “You cheese!” That took care of that! My brothers were never bothered again.

Our father bought boxing gloves for my brothers and tried to interest them in fighting safely. I sat on the sidelines wi