The Power of the Laugh

I had a bully in the fifth grade that loved to pick on me. On more than one occasion I came home from school in a bad mood, falling to the couch, arms folded with a scowl on my face. “What’s wrong with you?” My mother had a way of not making a big deal out of anything. But she had a real pension for getting back at anyone that might dish out something she felt she didn’t deserve. And her revenge mode trickled down to her children and I could see her wheels turning.

“Ben won’t leave me alone and I didn’t do anything to him.” I don’t know what I expected her to say. Bullies weren’t that big of a deal back then. I watched as her face narrowed in on me and her eyes squeezed into a glare. I suppose she was tired of hearing about Ben and his hateful ways. How he liked to say mean things to me. I don’t know exactly why he chose me. I was a quiet kid with a handful of friends and we kept to ourselves. Truth be told, there were others in my group that fit the bill for attracting a bully more than I did. But no, Ben had chosen me. And every day I got to hear all about his dislike of me.

My mother walked across the room and sat next to me, half perched on the edge of the couch. “Tomorrow, when Ben says something to you, I want you to repeat these words.” I waited as she took a dramatic pause. “Say, ‘I’ll be glad when I’m as perfect as you think you are.’” Now, this sounds like a great comeback. I’ll give it that. But what fifth-grader is going to actually come up with that on their own? But, I agreed to try and she seemed pleased.

The next day, I yawned in class and it was just my luck that he turned around at that very moment. I’m not sure if it’s just me or if it happens to others but my eyes water when I yawn. Of course, this was Ben’s cue to say quite loudly, “Rene’ is crying!” No, I wasn’t. I rolled my eyes at him and set him to ignore. Ignoring Ben never worked by the way. Thankfully, the science teacher told him to turn around and face the front. I had thought about using my mother’s line but the teacher had messed that up. Most likely, I would have been the one to get in trouble. So I decided that this wasn’t the right time. I would wait.

Walking home from the bus stop, Ben was on the opposite side of the street. We were matched in pace on our separate sidewalks. I can’t even remember what he said this time but I turned to him, squaring my shoulders, and shouted, “I’ll be glad when I’m as perfect as you are.” I immediately knew that I had messed up my mother’s words. I had wanted to use them so badly that I forced them out. Because the day was almost over and I knew she would ask if I had told him what she had suggested.

He stopped suddenly and turned to look at me. “I agree,” he laughed, “I am perfect.” And with this failure, I allowed my shoulders to fall. I softly shook my head and realized that even the smallest of tasks laid out perfectly at my feet by my mother had been destroyed by me. I felt at that moment that I couldn’t even properly repeat a simple snarky remark. I was in the fifth grade when I realized that I was destined to fail. Ben would torment me for the rest of my days.

Or was it something else? Had some divine hand slipped through and twisted my words? Was someone shouting at me to simply be myself? Would I do better in this life by being kind? And so, humbled, I looked at the boy who had given me so much grief and I shrugged. And I laughed. I laughed at myself. And I saw something happen to him as his armor fell away. He gave up.

After that day, he never bothered me again. In fact, he faded into the background of my memories for the rest of my school days. I think about this time in my life a lot and now realize that by laughing at myself, I had stripped him of anything more he could dish out. And if only laughter could solve all of the problems all of the time. If only laughter could always make a bully walk away. But life isn’t like that, is it? Too many times they are relentless...but once in a while, a little bit of laughter just might work.

Don’t be afraid to laugh at yourself. We are, after all, only human. And just maybe, someone will see a new side of you. A side that they find too endearing to bully.