In Junior High School there was this unwritten code when challenging someone to a fight that had to be followed. First there had to be a reason to fight. Fights just did not start randomly. Then there must be a witness to the “Calling Out” to make it valid. Once the “Calling Out” was agreed to, a location and time is established for the fight, usually right after school that way you can get it over with quickly.
After my recent experience, I had become somewhat angry inside and was easily coerced into doing things that I really did not want to do. While I was cautious now in trusting adults, I was more gullible to influence from my friends. And this is not a good thing.
One day in gym class there was this boy who had a last name that was easily changed to be an insult. Several of my friends kept encouraging me to call him by the insult name. And I obediently obliged them. I did this multiple times while we were changing. He finally got so upset he stood up and came over to me. We were face to face.
Everyone in the locker room in our row was stunned except for my friends. They were still pushing me to continue.
He looked at me and told me to shut up. I felt his angry breath whisp across my nose. My friends kept edging me on. I called him with that insulting name again while we were face to face. He then called me out and everyone became silent.
There was a feeling of disbelief about what just happened. I proudly accepted. I did not want my friends to think that I was “Chicken.” This had to be one of the dumbest things that I did all year.
Once a “Call Out” has been issued and witnessed, we then set the terms of the fight. We agreed to meet in the desert across the street from school after the final bell. I was now scared and began to think I really did not want to fight.
As the day progressed, I felt anxious and began to plan how I would escape school before the fight. I didn’t care if I was called a chicken or other derogatory names. I really didn’t want to fight. And I was scared.
But my friends were now glued to me everywhere I went. They wanted to see a fight. They were determined to make it happen.
As the last class was nearing the bell for release, my stomach was churning, and I felt sick. I did not want to go to the desert even though it is the desert I cross to go home from school.
The bell rang and my friend group gathered around me. They were going to escort me to the desert. And the boy who I insulted had his friend group with him. The atmosphere around us was circus like; and we were the performers.
What amazed me is how word of the call out and upcoming fight spread so quickly around the school. As our two groups walked across the street to the desert, I looked behind me to see a sea of students. To this day I still think that a good third of the student population followed us that day to the desert.
We arrived at a spot that had this mostly clear round space of desert sand with some tumbleweeds scattered at the edge. Everyone who came to watch the fight wrapped around us forming a circle. He and I were in the circle surrounded by friends and classmates. And there was a large group of popular cute girls who came to watch as well.
And then came the endless chanting: “Fight, Fight, Fight, Fight, Fight”
I think we were both scared. I looked at him again and he looked and me, and then I hit him in the face. I don’t know why I started the fight, but I did. And he came back at me and his fist connected with my face. It was a good hit. We both grabbed each other and fell into the desert sand while crushing some tumbleweeds into our bodies. I knew they were tumbleweeds because of the tearing of some skin on my face and arms.
I would say the fight lasted all of two minutes, maybe three minutes, before several teachers rushed in to break up the fight. How did these teachers know what was going on. I would later learn that the buses couldn’t leave because almost half of the students who take the buses attended the fight.
Additional teachers followed the first two teachers. Amazingly there were no bloody noses. We did end up with some bruises, and I did get a black eye. He was a pretty good fighter. And I will say that I was good too.
After the fight, while walking home with some of my neighborhood friends, I felt pretty bad about this incident. And I know that my friends initiated this fight. I became angry with them for promoting this fight to happen. This is when I realized that maybe my friends were not the kind of friends I should have.
I kept thinking about how bad and mean I was to the other boy. Especially after what I had just been through. I was in the wrong. And I needed to make things right.
When my mom got home from work, she saw my now blackening eye and asked me what happened. I told her and she became angry with me. And then the lecture started. I won’t go into the details, but it did confirm that my feelings were right. I needed to apologize.
The next day I approached him and asked him if I could come over to his house on Saturday. We were in gym and were standing together because the coach put us in the same group. I told him that I wanted to talk to him about what happened and to let him know how sorry I was. He agreed and gave me his address.
On Saturday I rode my bike to his house. Once again, I was scared but this is something that I needed to do. I knocked on the door and he opened it. I saw his bruised cheek, and he saw my black eye up close for the first time. I told him that I was very sorry for what I called him and for the fight. He invited me in and we went to his bedroom.
We sat and talked for a bit. He knew how bad I was feeling, and he let me know that he was wrong too. He said that both of us were manipulated into something that we would not normally do. I then confided to him what had happened to me in the summer. He was the only person that knew my secret and it would stay that way for decades to come.
He then suggested that we should ride our bikes over to the Showboat Bowling Lanes and get a soda. I had never been there, and it sounded interesting.
On this day, the two of us became good friends. Our other friends were surprised at this turn of events. But they were not really the friends I thought they were. They had become bullies who taunted others. And I fell into that trap.
I promised myself that I would not make that mistake again. Even through the litany of influences in my ear at that age, I needed to become a stronger person and not to be easily coerced into doing things that are wrong and against my better judgement. I will not become a bully.
A new goal…
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