{"id":1842,"date":"2013-09-21T04:34:30","date_gmt":"2013-09-21T04:34:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/?p=1842"},"modified":"2013-10-11T15:45:22","modified_gmt":"2013-10-11T15:45:22","slug":"middle-somewhere-eye-opening-experience-real-life-bullying","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/2013\/09\/middle-somewhere-eye-opening-experience-real-life-bullying\/","title":{"rendered":"To the Middle of Somewhere: An eye opening experience with real life bullying"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"David<\/a>
David Fishman hiking with outward bound.
Photo courtesy of ncobs.org.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

My parents decided it was time for a change — for two weeks, anyway. Playing video games, surfing the web most of the night and sitting on my butt were out. I was going to the wild. No phone, no technology. It\u2019d be tough, but I could handle it.<\/p>\n

You all remember our Outward Bound trip in 9th grade, right? We explored New York City, rode subways, and lived in basements. Some people liked it, others did not. Well forget everything you think you know about OB.<\/p>\n

I signed up for a hiking\/canoeing trip in the Appalachian mountains of North Carolina. It had all the elements of an ordinary summer trip \u2013 climbing, swimming, exploring the wilderness, etc. And sure, the physical hardships were tough \u2013 walking miles in the rain and eating baked beans \u2013 but most grueling were the unexpected psychological challenges that I had to face.<\/p>\n

When we arrived in North Carolina, I met up with the trip leaders and started chatting with the other kids. These were not New York City private school kids. No, these were rural Southern students. I guess what I\u2019m trying to say is that we didn\u2019t have a ton in common.\u00a0 Where they might get in their car and go out to McDonalds, I would take a subway downtown to a Japanese restaurant with my friends. What\u2019s the problem? We would all be in the wilderness anyway, probably foraging for our food in a few hours. With introductions out of the way we hopped on a bus to base camp and collectively cringed as our cell phone service got weaker and weaker and ultimately petered out.<\/p>\n

“The morals and teachings that I\u2019d picked up back at home were truly unique. “<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

As you know, in any group of 12 teenage boys spending 24\/7 together, a social hierarchy will undoubtedly be established. Certain kids will group together and become friends, while others will schmooze with counselors and\/or pour over the trail maps. Most of us got along well, but there was one kid who simply wasn\u2019t going to fit in. Not because our interests were different. The thing was: Steve* was gay. Not the \u201cthat kid\u2019s so gay\u201d kind of gay. He was openly and confidently gay.<\/p>\n

To you and me that last detail is insignificant. We\u2019re Fieldston kids, and we often take the values we\u2019re taught for granted. But when I was out in the wilderness surrounded by violently anti-gay kids, I realized that the morals and teachings that I\u2019d picked up back at home were truly unique.<\/p>\n

It was like I was transported to a different planet. The intolerance and downright bullying hit me like it did in one of those typical high school movies. Except this was real life. This was a real kid, and these were real bullies. Sure, we\u2019ve all sat through Ms. Dow\u2019s ethics classes and heard about openness and standing up for the right thing from Ms. Merriweather. But out there in the cold, dark Appalachian Mountains, I was all by myself. I had no allies. Shrouded in darkness, I watched as the others sat idly and eerily quiet on the sidelines and witnessed some of the cruelest things I\u2019ve ever seen boys do to one another.<\/p>\n

At one meeting, to intimidate and scare Steve, some of the kids recounted stories of what they would do to \u201cfaggots\u201d in their local towns. \u201cWe\u2019d go to their houses at night, knock down their doors, and beat the shit out of them,\u201d one particularly passionate boy proudly declared. \u201cI hate them, they should die,\u201d another said. So \u2013 as I\u2019m sure you\u2019re wondering \u2013 what did I do? The only thing I could do, defend.<\/p>\n

It felt like the big game day after years of practice. Adrenaline rushed through my blood, as I took the plunge. \u201cBut why?\u201d I asked. \u201cWhy do you hate them?\u201d \u201cBecause they\u2019re faggots,\u201d was the response. What was that supposed to mean? How could I respond to such an illogical statement like that? \u201cThere\u2019s a kid on our trip who\u2019s gay, and what you\u2019re saying probably makes him feel terrible.\u201d \u201cGood.\u201d \u201cYour words hurt,\u201d I tried in vain to explain. \u201cWell then he\u2019s a pussy.\u201d I told them that their jabs and threats were one of the main catalysts resulting in suicide among kids our age. \u201cWell then, they\u2019re weak.\u201d I clutched my pocketknife tightly to my side, as my new \u2018friends\u2019 yelled curse after curse at me.<\/p>\n

I call them friends, because they were and are my friends. We laughed on the trails, helped each other out with the heavy packs, and even shared personal stories. But when it came to this point in our \u2018journey\u2019, my \u2018friends,\u2019 became deadly assailants. Words became weapons, and I was close to tears. No one came to my aid. Our guides, who were told to \u201cfacilitate\u201d rather than intrude, sat and silently listened while the bullying persisted.<\/p>\n

In a desperate attempt to direct the negative attention away from me, I asked the target of all these insults how he felt. \u201cHow does it make you feel, hearing these things?\u201d \u201cTerrible. I feel awful, and I don\u2019t understand why,\u201d he replied. The group looked at him. This was the first time Steve had really voiced his feelings, and it seemed to be making an impact. He continued, and by the time he was done there was a noticeable mood shift in the group. Hearing a real live gay kid tell you to your face how he feels when you whisper about him behind his back, appeared to do the trick.<\/p>\n

“Inevitably, the teasing resumed the next day and the next day, and the next.”<\/p>\n<\/div><\/em><\/p>\n

The next morning we woke up and ate an awkward, quiet breakfast. I wondered if things would be different, and they were \u2013 for the day. Steve was included in more activities and whispered about less. But, inevitably, the teasing resumed the next day and the next day, and the next.<\/p>\n

There\u2019s no heroic or happy ending to my trip. I wish I could tell you after that eventful night everyone\u2019s minds were changed. I wish I could say those kids went back to their small rural towns, and preached acceptance at their schools. But alas, dreams are really just dreams. One of the kids bullying Steve was kicked off for aggressive behavior and rude language. The other bullies kept it up, but managed to escape any consequences.<\/p>\n

Once the trip ended one of the participants created a Facebook group to stay in touch, which of course Steve was not a part of. In fact the group is used to this day to further humiliate Steve, with comments like, \u201cI found out what Steve likes more than boys\u2019 butts and Minecraft. Choking on fat fucking cock.\u201d So, if I wasn\u2019t able to change these kids\u2019 minds, what did I get out of my Outward Bound trip? As it turns out, I was exposed to a slice of the world beyond Fieldston. I finally, seriously got out of the sweet, carefree bubble that is our school. I experienced another world. Not the hypothetical situations we discuss in class, or the trips we take to Europe with \u2018teen tours,\u2019 or even the community service in Peru.<\/p>\n

Fieldston — at the same time as shielding us — is also training us for battle. Training us to get up and stand behind what we believe in. So, if you\u2019re thinking about heading \u2018outward bound,\u2019 I say go for it. You may just find out that when you return, the hard part won\u2019t have been the physical survival, or not bathing for days at a time, or the 48 hour solo stint with only water. Part of you might still want to clutch onto that pocketknife, but you\u2019ll be a lot surer on the inside about who you are, and what you believe in. That\u2019s what those two weeks did for me. I\u2019m content when I look at my dirty hiking boots and my \u2018Certificate of Accomplishment,\u2019 but I\u2019m also sure I won\u2019t forget Steve and the lessons he taught me on my adventure to the middle of somewhere anytime soon.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My parents decided it was time for a change — for two weeks, anyway. Playing video games, surfing the web most of the night and sitting on my butt were out. I was going to the wild. No phone, no technology. It\u2019d be tough, but I could handle it. You all remember our Outward Bound trip in 9th grade, right? We explored New York City, rode subways, and lived in basements. Some people liked it,<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":53,"featured_media":1876,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[58],"tags":[],"coauthors":[45],"class_list":["post-1842","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-slider"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/09\/Bullying-Cover.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1842","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/53"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1842"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1842\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1847,"href":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1842\/revisions\/1847"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1876"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1842"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1842"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1842"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fieldstonnews.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=1842"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}