THE HIDDEN COST OF BULLYING
By Anne Rambo, Ph.D. Associate Professor of Family Therapy, Nova Southeastern University Graduate School of Humanities and Social Sciences

Steven is 15. For years now, his school days have been made miserable by the teasing and taunting of his peers. Somehow, Steven has never managed to “fit in” with the crowd. He has become a target for verbal and even physical abuse. At night, Steven lays awake plotting his revenge.

If this scenario sounds familiar, it’s because we have all become sadly accustomed to frequent incidents of school violence, in which an emotionally vulnerable and unstable young person responds to the rejection of fellow students by lashing out. This is the most spectacular and visible face of school bullying, and it is a potential danger in every school. But there are other, less visible dangers as well.

Gwen is 10. Recently, she has been missing school on many weekdays. She wakes up in the morning with intense stomachaches. At first Gwen’s mother, Sylvia, tried forcing her to go to school, reasoning that the child was “faking it,” but on several occasions Gwen actually vomited at school. Sylvia became more concerned, and took Gwen to see their family doctor. The doctor told her Gwen’s symptoms were “stress related,” and could be serious, possibly even progressing to an ulcer later on. Sylvia doesn’t understand: what can a 10 year old possibly have to be stressed about? What Sylvia doesn’t know is that the other girls in Gwen’s class have formed a club - and the main function of the club is to pointedly exclude Gwen. Gwen told the doctor she would rather die than have to face another lunchtime eating alone.

The American Psychological Association estimates that 160,000 children every school day do not attend school because they are afraid - afraid of exclusion, ridicule, teasing, taunting, or physical abuse. Some of these children will develop psychosomatic symptoms, such as stomachaches, headaches, and other signs of acute stress. Often, parents and teachers are unaware of the intensity of a child’s misery. But even this does not tell us the complete cost of bullying.

Marie is 16. She has always gotten good grades, and has a special flair for mathematics. But recently, her grades have slipped. Her concerned parents have lectured her on working harder and on looking ahead to college. What they do not know is that Marie’s peers used to tease her about being a “brain” and about her “unfeminine” interest in mathematics. Marie has chosen to go along to get along - she now tries to be as much like everyone else as possible. It will be another decade before she fully realizes what this common high school decision has cost her.

The fear of ridicule and teasing creates a strong pressure to conform. Children with special talents or “different” interests, especially those with interests that go beyond traditional gender norms, often learn to “play dumb,” hide out, or otherwise conform. In the process, intelligence and talents are wasted. But we are not yet done totaling up the costs of school bullying.

Frank is 35. His school days are long past. On the surface he is a successful, personable young family man, with a good job and growing children. But his wife and his doctor both get frustrated with him. Frank is overweight and highly stressed. His doctor says he needs to exercise. Frank has even gone so far as to join a gym. But every time he puts on shorts, even to walk around the block, let alone to work out in a crowded gym, Frank remembers back to his humiliations in school. He was the awkward, uncoordinated kid who got picked on in every gym class. Now that he is grown and has escaped all that, Frank would just as soon avoid anything and everything that reminds him of those early experiences, even if it means his health suffers.

“I’m too awkward and uncoordinated to play sports.” “I can’t possibly speak in public.” “I’m not clever - my sister was the smart one, not me.” How many of us accept limiting labels from childhood, even into our adult lives? Having been bullied in school sets the seal for many adults on a lifelong negative perception of their abilities in one or more areas. The early awkwardness or delay may have long since been outgrown, but the negative label lingers.