Dealing with Bullies the Old School Way
By: Tina L. Smith
Tags: Growing Up, Relationships, Philosophy, Bullying, Self

“Tina’s a bucktooth beaver!”

The words were hurled by fellow seventh-grader Bobby M., a short, portly kid with high spirits, as he passed me in the hall. I tucked my teeth into my lips, looked intently at the floor, and walked to class, cheeks burning.

I knew how mean kids could be… even at a Baptist school. Maybe especially at a Baptist school, where some naive parents sent their oddball kids, thinking it would be a kinder place than public school. My locker was located next to David S., a lanky boy who wore oversized glasses with dark frames, greasy hair, and high-waisted pants that were too short. He had the added disadvantage of being seen eating beans for lunch. Once. In fifth grade. Forevermore, he was known by classmates as Beano.

(Our school was situated over Detroit’s extensive salt mines. Some afternoons, we could feel blasts in the mines below us. On cue, the class would turn to David and say, “Beeeeeeano!!!!” We were relentless.)

I learned early on to stick my foot in my locker the second I opened it because, in their zeal to slam Beano’s locker shut, the fine Christian boys in our class would accidentally shut mine, too. I was late to class only a few times before I learned the foot trick. Poor David. He never learned it. He was late to class a lot.

I was determined not to be victimized like David.

Hiding the obvious

I became aware of my overbite in fourth grade when the young, pretty music teacher met with my parents and me at a routine conference. Our class had recently chosen which musical instruments we wanted to play, and I was thrilled about learning the flute.

“I’m not sure the flute is the right instrument for her,” she said, shifting her eyes from paper to desk and back again. “You know… because of the overbite.”

What? I had an overbite? For me, my front teeth were right where they were supposed to me. Was that bad? Miss Lund seemed to think so.

After that meeting, I became acutely aware that my teeth weren’t like others’. I also became more determined than ever to play the flute and to play it well. I couldn’t wait to prove my beloved teacher wrong.

I discovered that having bad teeth is hard to hide unless you don’t smile or talk. Already shy, I retracted and tried to keep my ugly teeth hidden. I cupped my hand over my mouth when I laughed and pulled my long hair as far forward as I could.

Then, when my adult teeth came in, things went from bad to worse. Thanks to crowding, the teeth overlapped, causing one front tooth to push forward.

Braces were out of the question. Our family struggled to get by. Private school tuition was already straining my parents’ finances, but they were committed to religious education for my brother, sister, and me.

My older brother, trying to help, showed me how to tuck my top teeth behind my bottom teeth. He advised me to do that throughout the day to fix my teeth. He said that he’d done it and it worked for him. I tried his technique, but my overbite was too pronounced, and my jaw would ache at night from the strain.

The turning point

I think we can all agree that the middle school years are pretty hellish. Mine were no worse than other kids’. I just didn’t have any idea that other kids were miserable… other than David, maybe. We don’t learn until later that everyone — even the “cool” kids — felt awkward, weird, and socially irredeemable in those 12 to 14 years.

Every time an adult told me I reminded them of Laura on the Little House on the Prairie (which was a lot), I heard, “Oh, you have bad teeth, just like that girl on TV!” When my dad told me I had a beautiful smile, I heard, “I need to make Tina feel better about her teeth.” When the music teacher told me to tighten up my embrochure, I heard, “I’m not sure flute is the right instrument for you.”

With daily teasing from Bobby at school, the tension was building. I started to avoid the spot in the hallway where I would cross paths with him. Turning the other cheek was the goal, but it was hard. It was a small school, and there weren’t many other ways to get to Room 10 for 4th hour. Shrinking worked no better.

Then one day, I snapped. We all have a breaking point, and I’d reached mine.

“Tina’s a bucktooth beaver!” Bobby taunted and made toothy faces as I scurried mouselike to Room 10. I was done. I whirled around, feeling blood rush to my face and my pulse racing.

“Is that right, CHUBBY?!” I seethed, gaining strength and power as I walked toward him, pointing at his belly. “Look at Bobby! He’s a big… fat… tub of lard!!”

Students stopped. The hallway grew quiet. My spirit may have left my body momentarily, as I could see 360 degrees and became hyperaware of everything around me. Bobby’s smarmy face melted into shock as he backed away and disappeared into the crowd.

I was immediately ashamed. What a mean, horrible, ugly thing to say. I ducked my head down and hurried to class.

I assumed things would get worse. Fighting fire with fire just makes a bigger bonfire (doesn’t it?), and I didn’t feel equipped to fight anymore. In fact, I really wanted to apologize to him.

(Lack of) consequences

I wasn’t at all prepared for what happened. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I didn’t get called to the principal’s office. No one mentioned the incident. And, most significantly, Bobby didn’t tease me. Not the next day. Not ever again.

Not one protocol recommended by today’s anti-bullying experts was followed.

Fighting fire with fire had worked. It’s not supposed to. Two wrongs don’t make a right. A soft answer turneth away wrath. Love is stronger than hate. Only kindness can win over cruelty.

And now, I was no longer tormented by him, and no one else took up the tormenting.

Though confused, I became more confident after that. My teeth remained unaligned until much, much later in life, but the experience of fighting back made me realize I didn’t need to be a victim. I stopped hiding behind my hand and hair. I still smiled with my mouth closed, but eventually grew to (mostly) accept my teeth. I even went on to win some blue ribbons at Solo & Ensemble competitions with my flute. (Take that, Miss Lund!)