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Violence & Safety

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For some kids, the high school hallways can be like going through a physical and emotional hell. Pushed, punched, slandered or slurred, each particular type of torture can leave physical and psychological scars. Do you recognize your hallway here?

NEW! My sophomore year I would go to school with guys that lived down the street. Well, one day they parked in a gas station, and the driver went to go get sodas. While he was in there, the two boys in the seats next to me started grabbing my boobs and putting their hands up my skirt. Well, when we got to school, everything seemed fine but at lunch a girl would walk by me and my friend and say stuff like, “That’s her” or “There’s the slut.” I didn’t know what they were talking about.
Then my other friend, Lisa, came up to me telling me that people were saying that I f***ed all four of the guys that were in the car. Later that day, the driver’s girlfriend came to me and asked me about it. I broke down crying and told her what the guys in the back seat had done. (She was my friend.) She hugged me and told me that I had to tell Craig, her boyfriend, what happened. I did, and those boys, still today, walk to school.
—Sabrina, 16

As I walk down the halls of my high school everyday just listening, observing everyone’s every move; I hear students snicker, whisper, laugh, and glare at others. These innocent people try and rush and make it seem like it does not bother them, but deep down you can see it in their eyes that they are crying out.
—Carey, 17

“An eye for an eye” leaves everyone blind.
—Martin Luther King, Jr.

I see it happening in my head, I see it over and over again. I just remember being called ugly and a slut every day, every time I was in the hallway. It was always the same girls. In the hallways, people pretty much go to their place right before they have to go to class. They have like hangout places; you knew pretty much where everyone was gonna be after that period and, yeah, everyone is always all together. I never really got how they got to class with all their friends with them.
The hallways were not friendly places to be. Everyone was with their stupid friends being dramatic. There was drama about anything they could start a fight about. Like if you were this girl who thought I liked her boyfriend and I came up to her in a mature way and said it wasn’t me who called him and then she decided to snap at me and say you can f***ing have him and I don’t care what you or he does. There were a lot of people accusing me of going after their boyfriends.
In the cafeteria, you had your table and your seat, the same people everywhere all the time and dramatic there also. No one can ever mind their own business about anything. Girls get mad at guys and pour milk over their heads. These were the good kids, kids who played sports or got good grades. Nobody would touch them. If I was in any study halls with them I just wouldn’t go. When I tried to tell the teachers what was going on, I either got no response or they said they would take care of it or they lied and said it never happened. I was depressed and had panic attacks.
I am most angry with the school because they watched it all happened and didn’t do anything about it and they blamed me for everything. I dropped out and got my GED. I got a lot of shit for it too. I was harassed by bitches. I had so much anxiety that it made me drop out of high school.
—Meghan, 17

It wasn’t the really different or odd kid who got picked on. The Goth kids weren’t bothered. It was the weak, shy, vulnerable kids who were the biggest target. Kids who were the least vulnerable were those who knew themselves most and had confidence.
—Danielle, 22

There are too many kids on the buses. Kids need their space. People come into less conflict when they’re not so crowded. We should probably have cameras on the buses, and people should actually look at them. I witness a lot of harassment on the bus.*

There was a Gym instructor, Mr. Boyle, who was an okay kind of a guy. He was short and stocky, and someone to be respected. Hard to believe, I know, but true! He was a nice, friendly, non-judgmental kind of a guy. As long as you tried, he was happy. Unfortunately, I never had him as an instructor. I knew about him because there were several gym classes going on simultaneously in the gymnasium.
One day, one of the thugs that I had the misfortune of having classes with, Dan, was harassing one of the other students, Dave. Like me, Dave was a bit overweight, and lacking in self-confidence. Dan enjoyed preying on people like us for fun. He was pushing Dave around, and poking him with his finger and just generally saying nasty things to him.
I saw a red streak fly through the air. It was super Mr. Boyle, flying through the air with the greatest of ease. He did a mid-air tackle and he and Danny were on the floor! Danny was totally freaked out. Super Mr. Boyle was more pissed than I have ever seen. He had a hold on old Danny boy, and was yelling in his ear, trying to get Danny’s attention, and point out that that type of behavior was not acceptable in school or society in general.
All of us were ecstatic! Finally, justice had been done to one of the bullies in school! They usually got away with murder, or at most a slap on the wrist. We were hoping Mr. Boyle would kill Danny, but, alas, no such luck. Danny had detention for several days and that was about it. But I never saw him hassling Dave again. And he was always quite sheepish when around Mr. Boyle.
It’s unfortunate that not all bullies were disciplined, and the ones that were, only a few times. I used to puzzle over this, and I think that most of the teachers enjoyed watching this happen. I think quite a few teachers in high school dislike the majority of the students.
—Jon

Most conflicts start on the weekends or out of school and finish as a fight in school.*

I don’t think you can make it safer. Metal detectors would make it worse, I think, because students and parents would just feel less safe.*

I grew up knowing that everybody faces death at some point in their life. However, it wasn’t easy to accept what happened. My friend Jimmy was stabbed to death 4 months ago in a six story apartment building. Seven young gang members made a decision that will affect many of us for the rest of our lives. They stabbed Jimmy near the heart and he died on the front steps of that apartment building. When I heard about it from a close friend, I just couldn’t believe it. I shook it off as a joke, but it was reality. I was in denial for a couple days, until the funeral. I couldn’t attend because of the distance but I knew it was real. My friends helped to comfort me. We shared tears and memories of Jimmy.
—Ana, 17

I feel endangered when I arrive in the morning. Kids are getting beat left and right. I wonder if I am next.*

*indicates material that was submitted anonymously

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