Rector’s Blog, Just Words - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

When I was a bully, I didn't think of myself as a bully. I was just a kid. I was not tall or physically imposing. I did not threaten the boy in any traditional sense. I did not touch his things or steal from him, gaslight or hit him. I was just mean. He showed up to my school in 7th grade and we were together for two years and I was just pointlessly, relentlessly unkind. I was 12 and I didn't like him. And I could tell you that I was trying to survive the disintegration of my parents' marriage, the sale of my childhood home, an alcoholic family system, and my own adolescent hormones and feelings. And all those things would be true. But it didn't change the fact that I wasn't kind. That I made some other kid's life immeasurably worse instead of better.I was a good kid too, by almost anyone's standards. I didn't break rules, smoke, drink, or do drugs. I was on Student Council and Honor Roll. I went to church every Sunday, and was deeply involved in Youth Group. I told jokes and had friends and got along with my teachers - most of whom I genuinely liked. I was honest. If you asked me if I was unkind, I wouldn't have denied it. I would've said, well yeah to people who deserve it - but I'm not hurting anyone, just putting them in their place, knocking 'em down a peg. Plus if it's a joke and people are laughing, everyone should just lighten up, right? So I would say withering, mean things to some kid I didn't like and I would say them directly to his face and people would laugh and I would think it was justified and that I wasn't really hurting him because it was just words. Just words!