Member-only story
Scrawny Ronnie
I was bullied; I was a bully.
SCRAW-NEE RON-NEE, SCRAW-NEE RON-NEE. Ronnie was a boy in my school. He was darker than the rest of us white kids. He had really curly hair. He spoke English with an accent.
SCRAW-NEE RON-NEE, SCRAW-NEE RON-NEE. Ronnie wasn’t very smart. He could not read well. He could not do simple arithmetic.
SCRAW-NEE RON-NEE, SCRAW-NEE RON-NEE. Ronnie tried hard, but he was a terrible soccer player. Same with football and baseball. He couldn’t run fast and he ran in a silly way.
SCRAW-NEE RON-NEE, SCRAW-NEE RON-NEE. He was a terrible fighter, so it was easy to pick on him.
SCRAW-NEE RON-NEE, SCRAW-NEE RON-NEE. We could make him cry! It made us feel good.
The leader of our playground was a boy who shall be called “Bully.” Bully was very smart and could control us. He had about five boys in his inner circle, his best friends. I wanted to be in that circle, but my family went to the wrong church and I was small. So I was often a target of Bully’s attacks. Sometimes I could be part of that circle and be a bully; sometimes the circle bullied me. But I never got bullied as bad as Ronnie.
One winter day, the custodian of our school made a pile of snow in the middle of the playground. This allowed us to play “King of the Castle.” One…
