The Bully

Posted On January 14, 2026

When I was a young boy growing up, due to my father’s career, our family moved a great deal. The Mayflower moving van people knew us by name. By the time I began fifth grade in Saranac Lake, we had moved ten times. I’d been the new kid in school five different times. One year I changed school districts twice.

I’d started kindergarten at age 4. (As a survivor’s side note, a move I’d caution against for parents, especially those of a boy). So I was always the youngest kid in my class, as well as the smallest, which for a boy, is a curse all its own. But in addition to being the new kid in school every year, as well as the youngest and smallest, I was also always the smartest kid in my class, which, absent any other “ests” made me a target for bullies right from the getgo.

But alas, it got worse from there. Not only was I the new kid, the youngest, smallest, the smartest kid in every new school my parents enrolled me in. No, on top of everything else, I showed up at school like I was dressed up for church. While all of the other kids went to school wearing normal kid clothes; Plaid flannel shirts, polos, blue jeans, sneakers, etc., I showed up wearing dress shirt, dress pants, dress shoes, hand knit sweater and often a necktie to boot, also hand knit. And speaking of boots, when it rained, I was sent to school wearing galoshes.

As a result of all this, as anyone with any awareness at all of how schoolyard politics works might imagine, I showed up at my new school every year knowing that I was going to be the playground target of bullies.

As I look back on it now, I can still feel my heart begin to race, my hands start to sweat. I had to evolve my own set of E&E(escape & evade) skills at a very young age. I scouted the boy’s bathroom to make sure it was empty before entering. I did my business quickly in there, because the boy’s bathroom was deadly. The same thing was true of the gym locker room, the lunch room, the playground, the walker’s route to and from school. And God forbid I go anywhere NEAR the places where all the “smoker kids” stood. Because in the school jungle, it’s every man for himself, survival of the fittest. My heart is racing right now.

In Northville, it was a big kid named Ira. He regularly pushed me down on the playground while his friends stood by and laughed. In Lake Placid, an older girl spit in my face in the hallway. In Saranac Lake one day, a gang of kids chased me across town, finally cornered and surounded me, knocked my hat off my head, and then took my bike. But those are just a few in my laundry list of bullied kid highlights.

Of all of my bullying experiences, one nemesis, above all others, stood out. He was my nightmare for years, so much so that I choose to leave him unnamed even now. He would chase me home after school, beat me up after boy scout meetings, threaten me, harass me on my paper route. It got so I was afraid to walk anywhere in town by myself. This went on from the day I started fifth grade in Saranac Lake until well into high school.

Then one day, I think it was during my sophomore year, an incident occurred that forever changed everything. I was in the high school gymnasiuum on my lunch hour, playing pick-up team half court basketball. My nemesis spotted me and quickly joined the opposing team. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. I was facing yet another lunch hour about to be ruined.

My nemesis was taunting me, calling me names, threatening to “be waiting for me after school”. At some point he got his hands on the ball, began driving to the hoop, shoulders lowered for impact, barrelling right towards me with a full head of steam.

Something inside me at that moment snapped. I decided right then and there that I’d had enough. I remember that feeling of resolve that sprang up inside me clearly to this day. I deliberately set me feet, lowered my shoulder, braced myself for impact.

I’m not sure who was more surprised at what happened next, me or my nemesis, but as he came barrelling full bore into me with the ball, he hit my shoulder and suddenly found himself sprawled on his back, spread eagle on the gym floor. I just stood there staring down at him for a moment as the ball bounced away. I can remember another guy on my team, a kid a year ahead of me who I looked up to a bit, giving me an approving glance and a smile. My nemesis laid there for a moment, then quietly got up, quit the game, and left the gymnasium. He never bothered me again. Ever.

Not a word was exchanged in that moment, not a single fist thrown. But I learned an important lesson that day. There is only one way to deal with a bully.

Set your feet.

Lower your shoulder.

Stand your ground.

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Until Our Trails Cross Again:

ADKO