BROCK’S BANTER: Purple Haze

October 1, 2014 · 0 Comments

By Brock Weir

When I first walked into the gymnasium at Aurora High School on Monday afternoon, I was struck instantly by two things. The first was a sea of purple as everyone donned the uniform of the day for the launch of the #yeswewill campaign. The second was the palpable energy in the air.
A cynic might want to think the general buzz stemmed from the fact students were allowed – and actually encouraged – to whip out their iPhones, BlackBerrys, and other devices during school hours without fear of reprisal.
However, I think was much more than that. I chalk it up to a sense of empowerment, a sense of being able to make a real difference not just in their own lives, but in the lives of others – and all without breaking a sweat. After all, it doesn’t take too much energy to send out a tweet. In this day and age, when the amount of followers you can accumulate seems to be a badge of honour, a well-executed tweet can take on a life of its own.
It was encouraging to see students take such a proactive stance against cyberbullying earlier this week, and I think part of the enthusiasm stems from the fact that, whether we like it or not, there have been times when we have been bullied. The “cyber” phenomenon simply adds an extra layer of immediacy and hurt.
“Bullying is not what it used to be when I was a kid,” said Superintendent Carolyn Bishop at Monday’s launch, before pausing for comedic effect. “And that was a long time ago – thank you for not pointing that out.”
It was a pregnant pause as the Superintendent waited for the laugh, and I personally used that moment as a bit of reflection on my own.
I’m not sure who I am trying to kid. It doesn’t seem like all that long ago I would have been sitting in those very same bleachers (well, technically I went to Newmarket High School, but you get the idea), listening to that presentation. But then it hit me, if this presentation was happening when I was at school it would have been a very different one altogether.
I graduated from Newmarket High School eleven years ago, and in that moment it amazed me how much that landscape has changed in that relatively narrow window. The concept of cyberbullying was a relatively foreign one outside, perhaps, of online chatrooms and discussion forums, which were at that point already hovering in that grey area between novelty and anachronism.
Facebook, one assumes, was still being hammered out by Mark Zuckerberg and the Winklevii, Twitter was barely a glint in its founder’s eye, and the idea of turning an electronic version of a corkboard and pushpins into a social media hub would have seen you laughed out of your keyboarding class.
We had to make due with ICQ, which was already nearing the end of its shelf life, AOL Instant Messenger, and the ubiquitous “MSN” service, which is still hanging on today in what I am sure is simply a fit of nostalgia.
Although a certain CTV television movie depicted my particular school as a hotbed of gangs and bullying, the reality, in my experience, was much different. Things were a little bit rough for us making that all-important transition in Grade 9, grappling with the new society we were thrust into.
There was a bit of bullying here and there as people felt the need to jockey for position, make their mark, and maybe even attempt to assert a weird sense of authority, but people largely got lives by the end of the year and it was relatively smooth sailing from there on out.
Today, I simply can’t imagine what that initial bullying might have been like today had it spilled over into the cybersphere. If a particular bully (or even just an idiot in general) started to feel their oats after school and took their arsenal of hurtful words to ICQ, AOL or MSN, we had the luxury of simply blocking the user and getting on with our lives.
This is not the case today. Texting has added an unavoidable layer of bullying and risk. Those looking for a creative outlet online, such as putting their voice or talent out there for people to appreciate, are now subject to abuse hurled from all directions, all sent from the comfort of anonymity, to do their damage – sometimes leading to fatal consequences.
For those of us who were given a rough time when we were in high school it was much easier to tune out and refocus on the people, places and things that were, and are, worthy of one’s time and energy. Now, that is becoming increasingly difficult and I feel for these students.
It seems, however, these students are increasingly recognizing the problem. While the #yeswewill campaign might not achieve its goals overnight, the enthusiasm displayed on Monday gives me hope that it will stir that all-important dialogue to lay the foundation for ongoing efforts to make cyberbullying as distant a memory as ICQ and Myspace.

ROSE-COLOURED GLASSES
I have to admit to looking at this bullying situation through somewhat tinted glasses.
The intervening years from those school days have provided much needed perspective. They say with age comes wisdom. That may be so, but in this case age comes with a degree of unease.
I’m the first to admit that when it came to the social hierarchy in elementary and secondary school, I was a relatively low man on the totem pole. Grades didn’t rate. What I thought was my own sparkling wit failed to dazzle the masses. What was important, apparently, was my weight, the fact my name vaguely sounded like a vegetable and, if you said my name fast enough, these clever folk discovered it sounded a hell of a lot like “Bra Queer”. Ah, well. In hindsight, that last one might have been worth a chuckle or two, but it didn’t seem like it at the time.
As I get older, however, the more I realise that I was not in any way above the crowd, particularly in elementary school. If anyone came along that the majority determined ranked a notch or two below my positon on the pole, I was just as quick to pounce. Did it make me feel good? Directly, not in the least, but indirectly there was a certain high from being a part of “the other”, even for a fleeting moment.
At the end of the day, I was no better and, in retrospect, it is an awful feeling.
This summer, while dealing with a very minor medical issue, I saw one of the two people I was abominable to while he was working in this particular doctor’s office. We exchanged glances. I didn’t detect a flicker of recognition on his part, but I knew who he was right away. I felt a burning need to apologise right then and there, but hesitated in case it brought up old wounds.
While York Region high school students do battle with their #yeswewill campaign, maybe it’s simply time to bite the bullet on my part, turn that into a #yesIcan and right a past wrong.