This is not your imagination.
I'm fascinated by how our brains work, particularly the difference between how they really work and how we think they work/how we expect them to work. (I was telling my cousin Patrick the other day how I thought they should amend the laws on hit-and-run accidents that involve only property damage. The urge to run when you've hit a tree or a
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I felt this lesson wholly at an early age, about second grade or so, when a mob of young kids from my class teased a girl because she was heavy. I saw the mob and wandered over. I was only about seven or eight, so you must excuse my confusion at the time, but I was caught up in it, and I yelled along with them. Afterward, I was so very ashamed that I almost couldn't breathe. No one else seemed to be, but my empathy was playing overtime. After school, I walked to the girl's house where I have never been before (the opposite direction from home) and knocked on the door. Remember, I'm little, and only about seven or eight. I did this all by myself. Her mom answered. I asked to see the girl. Her mom hesitated, saying her daughter didn't want to see anyone. I insisted. I was allowed to enter the home and go into the living room where the girl was sitting on the couch slumped and dejected and depressed, watching TV. She did not even look up. I walked up to her and told her, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I hope you can forgive me." She said nothing. I did not get forgiveness. But I still stood there for awhile watching her, feeling so awful that there was nothing I could do to fix it at all. Not ever. Finally, I walked out and walked home. I confessed to my mom. She told me I did the "right thing" but I was so mortified at myself. I realized we all have that nastiness inside ourselves but I had a choice to act or not act on the feeling. Needless to say, I never again teased another schoolmate. I'm not saying I'm perfect or that I don't say things I regret in anger, but I am not nor have I ever been a bully.
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When I was in the 5th grade there were a couple of boys who picked on me all year. I'd just gotten braces, etc., etc.
Later on, when we were in high school (different ones), my parents and I used to go to his parents' restaurant, a cafeteria. He sometimes worked the serving line, and one night when we were there, he apologized for having been mean to me.
It had been years, and he was hardly the worst offender in my line, so forgiving him was easy.
And I'd be willing to bet that your schoolmate remembers your brave apology, and probably wishes she'd done something different.
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I think a little bit of fighting and name-calling as kids is somewhat normal...we all go through a "growing up" process and learning to deal with heavy insecurities and emotions. My brother and I fought a lot with each other until we turned about 13 (he's a year younger) and suddenly it stopped. We became good friends. (He's the Andy Rathbone who writes the Windows for Dummies books and is a millionaire because of it...the twerp. He's also a Terranova type...thick black hair, pale blue eyes, olive skin and 6'2" with natural leanness. We all hate him.)
Self-awareness is also conscience. Boy did I have one hell of a conscience at an early age. And we weren't religious so it wasn't because of that. It was just me (and reinforcements from mom who put up with no bs.)
Also, at 13, I became a "Trekkie" and that was a very unpopular thing to be in the 70s. It was considered very "uncool." Not like today. My solution? Form a Star Trek club. Which I did with my friend Kym and the help of a really cool teacher. Kids came out of the woodwork to join. I made friendships that have lasted to this day. We all had bullies who picked on us, but as a group we hung out and ate lunch together (there were usually a minimum of ten of us at all times) and it's very hard for bullies to accomplish anything against ten kids who have become more secure because of a sudden, good social support system and just laugh back at them for their antics. The bullies used to throw wild berries at us at lunch. We would just frown at them and shake our heads and after doing that about twice they seemed to realize how pathetic they were against us and left us alone.
To this day, I credit Star Trek with saving me in my awkward, insecure teen years. Everyone needs a passion. Instead of turning to shoplifting, smoking, drinking, drugs, this one turned out to be intellectually and socially healthy.
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