41/365 - Bullies from the past

Eliza in 2009

“Her name was Claudia and she lived on the fourth floor. Her job was to sit by the building’s entrance, look at us, make nasty comments and chase us. She didn’t get paid - she did it for free! Her favourite thing to say to a group of kids ages six to nine was: “You’re not going to play with this today, because I said so!”.

She had a problem in one of her legs, not sure if it was by birth or an accident, but she couldn’t run too fast and that was our only advantage. I don’t remember how old she was at the time, maybe early 20’s, but she truly was very messed up. I remember being scared to go into the building to go home and having to wait for her to go away, because she was constantly there. She hit me on several occasions and many neighbours argued with her, but no one could stop her.

One time I went up crying and told mum what she did, I must have been around 6 years old. Mum had enough, she got so angry that she didn’t even care to look at what she was wearing (a very short shirt, that one would normally use to sleep in) and went to the ground floor. A big fight ensued. Claudia pulled mum's shirt and ripped it, but mum didn’t stop, very few neighbours tried to intervene, most of them just went by. Not sure who won the fight, but Claudia didn’t stop with the bullying for years to come, at one point either she matured or we grew up and she felt overpowered.

I heard she got married at one point, but didn't care to find out more. She had a sister and both parents were there when she was bullying us, not sure what they thought about it. For me they were scary by association, but I can’t say I really knew them.”

Today I wanted to share a fragment from a little something I wrote a while ago in my private journal, before this whole challenge thing. Fair disclosure - I would do the same as mum did, I think she was brave and she looked like a hero to me then.

Soon I will tell you the story of the biggest bully in my childhood - my primary school teacher, because it's hard not to draw parallels between how we grew up and how kids are raised these days.

There were many great things about growing up in the 90's, but some were awful and not even condemned. When “demons” from our past come to haunt us it can make us overprotective. It has probably made me.

Not all my stories are unique, but I hope one day we will be able to talk more openly about things that really matter. We behave the way we do because of the “luggage”, right? Or is that another name for generational trauma?

These days I teach my kids that fighting is the last resort for self defence, but we are privileged, most of the world is not. And as much as we hope for the rest of the world to catch up we have been proven over and over again that humanity doesn't only move forward.

We just have to keep on trying, it will get better! We got this!