I was reading some of the responses to my long story yesterday about being bullied. It is a very lonely feeling when I was one of 9 kids and felt completely alone. I kept my pain inside and never shared it with anyone until many years later when I told one of my sisters. I doubt most of the family knows the entire story.
But the story of Tommy Smith makes me hurt so much for him, too. I was so lost in my own world of pain that I really can’t remember how long he went to our school. I just remember him being there in 6th grade. Every year, the 6th grade class took a weekend camping trip to Wyalusing State Park as their field trip. It was a fairly long drive – must be a couple hours, so we filled the time with car games (I Spy) and singing. A bunch of kids at the back of the bus started singing “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” and everyone in the bus joined in. After singing the 3 or 4 regular verses, they started singing the names of all the kids in the bus. They started with the kids in the back of the bus and sang each name in turn, going up one aisle of the bus and down the other. Some of the kids ducked down in their seats trying to avoid being seen so we would not sing their names. Of course, there is no hiding on a bus full of kids, so we sang their names anyway. But as we got to Tommy Smith, he sat tall and proud in his seat, waiting for us to sing his name. I did and I saw at least one other girl did, but the kids at the back outsang us as they skipped him and went to the next kid. I will never forget the look on his face when they passed over him. As they got to me, I half expected and even half hoped they’d pass my name too, just to help Tommy feel better, but they sang my name. They even did the teacher chaperones and bus driver. Tommy alone was left out. But as bad as he felt, he sang the song to the end, singing everyone else’s name. That hurt me more than all the hurts inflicted on me over the previous years. I so wanted to stand up and sing his name in a verse whether anyone else joined me or not (and being the person I grew into, I would have done just that and I’d have told them off for being such nasty, insensitive JERKS. But back then, I was too shy. Plus, I was afraid that if I did that, it would put BOTH of us in danger of worse teasing than ever (and not just the Becky and Tommy sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-s-i-n-g kind of teasing, but much worse stuff. And when we got to the park, I wanted to find him and tel him how sorry I was that the kids on the bus hurt him that way. But I never saw him (boys and girls didn’t get together much). But Tommy was probably a very sweet boy. He never did anything to hurt any of us. I have no idea why he was the target of such abuse – not just that day, but every day. All he wanted was a friend. But he had no friends at all. I imagine the day of that bus trip, he cried alone in his bunk at night. I wish I could find a way to tell him how sorry I am what happened, even though it was way back in 1967 0r ‘68. I wonder where he is and what he is doing. I hope he’s happy and having a great life. I prayed for him often after that day, hoping his life would be so wonderful when he grew up that it would put those mean kids to shame.
Sorry this is so long – just wanted to send out good wishes to Tommy (he probably goes by Tom now) in the only way I know how.
I was reading some of the responses to my long story yesterday about being bullied. It is a very lonely feeling when I was one of 9 kids and felt completely alone. I kept my pain inside and never shared it with anyone until many years later when I told one of my sisters. I doubt most of the family knows the entire story.
But the story of Tommy Smith makes me hurt so much for him, too. I was so lost in my own world of pain that I really can’t remember how long he went to our school. I just remember him being there in 6th grade. Every year, the 6th grade class took a weekend camping trip to Wyalusing State Park as their field trip. It was a fairly long drive – must be a couple hours, so we filled the time with car games (I Spy) and singing. A bunch of kids at the back of the bus started singing “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” and everyone in the bus joined in. After singing the 3 or 4 regular verses, they started singing the names of all the kids in the bus. They started with the kids in the back of the bus and sang each name in turn, going up one aisle of the bus and down the other. Some of the kids ducked down in their seats trying to avoid being seen so we would not sing their names. Of course, there is no hiding on a bus full of kids, so we sang their names anyway. But as we got to Tommy Smith, he sat tall and proud in his seat, waiting for us to sing his name. I did and I saw at least one other girl did, but the kids at the back outsang us as they skipped him and went to the next kid. I will never forget the look on his face when they passed over him. As they got to me, I half expected and even half hoped they’d pass my name too, just to help Tommy feel better, but they sang my name. They even did the teacher chaperones and bus driver. Tommy alone was left out. But as bad as he felt, he sang the song to the end, singing everyone else’s name. That hurt me more than all the hurts inflicted on me over the previous years. I so wanted to stand up and sing his name in a verse whether anyone else joined me or not (and being the person I grew into, I would have done just that and I’d have told them off for being such nasty, insensitive JERKS. But back then, I was too shy. Plus, I was afraid that if I did that, it would put BOTH of us in danger of worse teasing than ever (and not just the Becky and Tommy sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-s-i-n-g kind of teasing, but much worse stuff. And when we got to the park, I wanted to find him and tel him how sorry I was that the kids on the bus hurt him that way. But I never saw him (boys and girls didn’t get together much). But Tommy was probably a very sweet boy. He never did anything to hurt any of us. I have no idea why he was the target of such abuse – not just that day, but every day. All he wanted was a friend. But he had no friends at all. I imagine the day of that bus trip, he cried alone in his bunk at night. I wish I could find a way to tell him how sorry I am what happened, even though it was way back in 1967 0r ‘68. I wonder where he is and what he is doing. I hope he’s happy and having a great life. I prayed for him often after that day, hoping his life would be so wonderful when he grew up that it would put those mean kids to shame.
Sorry this is so long – just wanted to send out good wishes to Tommy (he probably goes by Tom now) in the only way I know how.