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“Many people think, incorrectly, that ‘apocalypse’ means ‘the end of the world.’ The Greek word apokalypsis–from which it is translated–means ‘a revelation,’ ‘a disclosure’, or ‘an unveiling.’ In an apocalypse, as it is commonly understood, a world is destroyed violently. But more important, an apocalypse means an era of false living is over. An apocalypse gives us the ability to see things as they really are.”
– Collete Shade, Y2K: How the 2000s Became Everything
As I wind down and begin to decide how to wrap up this column before my summer break, I am perplexed as to how I did it. For the third time, even!
I think it all started in sixth grade.
After transferring schools, I was mercilessly bullied. I was an outsider, a fat kid whose head was constantly in a book. Those other students had been there since pre-K and it was their job to let me know it. I was not a member of the “original class,” and I never would be.
My first strategy was to try to fit in. Each item of clothing I bought or show of interest in something they thought was cool just led to more punishment. I was a poser from Dundalk. Who was I to think I could walk among these elite of Arbutus/Halethorpe and put on such airs?
One day, it hit me like a lightning bolt, like the moment when “Don’t Need it” slams into “Attitude” on the Bad Brains ROIR cassette.
None of this mattered. Some kid in a schoolroom in ancient Rome was bullied, too. That kid thought the world he lived in and how it ran would last forever. It would not and does not. My era of false living was over. I saw things as they really were. I did not have to buy what they were selling.
I then dedicated myself to sticking to that truth. This bothered people. They continued to bully me, but they could tell I saw through it or that it didn’t hurt me the way it once did. I wasn’t pretending it didn’t hurt. It no longer hurt because it no longer mattered.
Although I still have very strong reactions to others being bullied, I surprised myself by not seeking revenge on those who bullied me. People who engage so viciously in this behavior are in pain, and I guess understanding that was part of the realization. I watched each tormentor grow up and fall apart, the same deep unhappiness that kept them lashing out at me keeping them from finding any peace or happiness in life. I am not pleased with that outcome for them, but it does reinforce my own life choices. I have played my hand with the cards I have been dealt.
Each week, from Labor Day to Memorial Day, I do my best to write something that is true. The world right now seems on the brink of that there above “a-word”, everywhere I look. I try, through my actions, to build the world I want to live in. It is not easy. It is, in fact, painful. But I know a better world is possible if we keep fighting for it.
One more to go. I’ll keep going if you keep going. See you then!
