
In 1970 (yes, I said 1970), I was a kindergartner, a quiet kid who was a joy to my teachers. Having grown up in the south, everyone had a nickname, it usually had to do with whatever unusual characteristics you possessed. For example; if you had large teeth you would be called “Buck Tooth John”, large feet, “Big Foot Robert”, etc. I was named after my father, so fortunately, I was only called “Junior.”
I was the youngest in my home at the time, with older siblings Deborah, Brenda and Donald (RIP). There was a Bully at my school, “Fat Anthony.” Everyday, he would terrorize me. I would find myself running home as soon as we were let out of school. One day, on the last day of school, Fat Anthony was out the door before me. I remember, this was the moment I had feared. It was raining slightly, I had my metal Spider-Man lunchbox in hand and was wearing my yellow rain coat. Everyone was around waiting, watching, ready to see the big fight. No fight from me. I was totally afraid of the intimidation of Fat Anthony. As I stood there, he grabbed my lunch box out of my hand and then pushed me into a bed of fire ants! While being bitten over and over, I picked up my lunch box and ran all the way home. When I got there, my brother looked at me and said, “Why are you crying?” He saw the bite marks all over my body and asked, “What happened?” After I told him, my brother became angry. Not at Fat Anthony, but at me! He gave me this lecture about not being afraid and standing my ground. He told me that I was more than capable of defending myself. I wasn’t hearing it, I was afraid. Then my brother surprised me… he punched me over and over! He then asked me, “How does that feel?!” I cried and cried, but he didn’t stop. After each blow he would ask the same question, “How does it feel?!” “It hurts!!!”, I said. He told me the next time I met Fat Anthony, if I didn’t fight back he would punch me too! Summer passed and first grade came. On that day, guess who was in my class? Fat Anthony! He was taller and fatter than ever! And the bulling started once again. It was around 9 am, when he announced to the class, he was going to fight me after school. My heart was pounding and it seemed as if only 10 minutes went by when the school bell rang. Fat Anthony and onlookers were waiting for me on the steps of the elevated landing at school. There was no escape. The kids chanted to Fat Anthony, “Hit him, hit him”, as I stood in fear. As he swung, I remembered what my big brother told me. If I didn’t fight back, he would punch me again! I began to swing. I wasn’t a Muhammad Ali, but I kept swinging and somehow one of my blows connected, sending Fat Anthony falling down the stairs! Everyone was shocked (even I), as Fat Anthony jumped up, grabbing his arm, crying. He ran home and so did I. The next day, I walked unknowingly and fearfully into school. Kids were looking and staring. They moved out of my way as if in fear. That’s when I saw Fat Anthony. He had broken his collar bone and looked at me with fear in his eyes. He, as well as others, thought my swings caused the break. Fat Anthony became humbled.
The next day I walked into school with a swagger. I was the man because I overcame my fears and fought back. My brother taught me that sometimes in life you will get bullied. You can take it and suffer daily or you can stand your ground and start swinging. Been diagnosed with cancer? SWING! Mistreated in a relationship? SWING! Told you will never be or amount to anything? SWING! Health or mental state in disarray? SWING! SWING! SWING!
Your fight doesn’t have to be pretty. You don’t need special training or boxing skills. If you want out of your situation, swing and fight back! Fight dirty, claw with your nails, kick, poke, do whatever it takes and stop being bullied by your demons.
As a batter steps up to the plate, they don’t just stand there and let the pitcher throw the ball past them. Sometimes the pitcher (the sickness, the demons of depression or anxiety) pitches the ball close, as to strike the batter. This technique is used to cause fear in the batter. But the batter must stand their ground. Even if you swing and strike, you still must swing. 0 and 2, swing. Because if you swing, if you make contact, you will knock that ball, that sickness, those lies people tell you to hold you back. If you swing, you may make contact and send that thing that is overwhelming you out of the park. Swing and round the bases of life and walk across home plate with a swagger!
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