When I was a young boy, I think around 12 or 13 years of age, there was a set of brothers in my school, one my age the other a year or two older, that used to harass me for reasons I never understood. I don’t remember their names, but I do recall the younger one always blatantly taking my things, pencils, pens, and notebooks while his older brother would push me around as if I were out of line for not cooperating with his younger punk sibling. I was a pretty easy going kid and tried to ignore them, but after enduring continuous harassment and the loss of property, over time, I became frustrated and angry.
My dad, my hero, the Commander, noticed a change in my demeanor and asked what was bothering me. After much cajoling on his part, I broke down and explained through teary eyes what was going on at school with the punk ass bullies brothers. Much to my surprise, my dad, my hero, the Commander, patiently shared some advice with me that has stuck to this day.
Resting his strong hand on my shoulder, he reassuringly said to me, “Son, it’s OK to be upset and frustrated and angry, these boys aren’t playing by the rules and that’s confusing to those who do.”
Looking up into his piercing yet compassionate eyes, feeling the weight of his hand on my shoulder and the power of his words in my ears, I found calm and listened.
“We’re taught that patience is a virtue,” he said, “And I’m proud of the patience you’ve demonstrated son. It takes a strong man to put up with the bunk you’ve put up with.”
I love the way my dad uses the word ‘bunk.’
Squeezing my shoulder a little tighter he went on, “But there comes a time son when you have to draw a line in the sand.”
A confused look crossed my face, “a line in the sand?”
Pausing to think, my dad went on to explain, “Son, there comes a point in dealing with others when you might have to say, ‘If you try to take my pencil again, I’m gonna punch you in the nose.’”
I was taken back a bit by this pearl of wisdom.
“What about that bothers you son?” he asked noticing my reaction.
After a moment of hesitation I replied, “It’s just that I don’t have many friends dad, and these punks brothers do, and if I punch one of them in the nose, nobody will like me then.”
“Son,” he said, “This isn’t about having friends. This is about principal. You draw that line in the sand and you make it clear that those who cross it will face consequences, like getting punched in the nose, you follow through with that promise, and you’ll have all the friends that you’ll ever need in life.”
Two days later, punk the younger the younger brother pushed me away from my desk and grabbed my pencils as if they were his. Out of the blue, I grabbed his shoulder, turned him around to face me and said, “those are my pencils asshole, put them back.”
In the middle of his condescending laugh I socked him in the gut with all my strength, knocking the air out of his lungs and surprising the shit out of him. He dropped my pencils.
Later that afternoon, punk the older the older brother approached me in the hallway, pushing me up against a set of orange wall-lockers, he threatened to end my life if I didn’t apologize to punk the younger his little brother.
“Let go of me and don’t ever touch me again,” I said through clinched teeth.
Letting me go he said, “And what’re you going to do about it wimp?” pushing his index finger into my chest and holding it there.
Without saying a word, I swung my left arm across and down knocking his finger from my chest and followed by punching him square in the nose with my right fist. I recall him repeating feebly, “You broke my nose, you broke my nose,” as he rushed down the hallway holding said nose in his bloody hands.
The punk brothers never bothered me again and I found that I had neither lost or gained friends, but that line in the sand seemed to follow me for years to come and nobody ever crossed it. Sgt Hook out.
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This post is filed under: GWOT & Know thy Enemy
