Should You Teach Your Kids To Fight Back Against Bullies? My Story of Bullying

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In high school for maybe the first two years, I was bullied. It, fortunately, wasn't bullying all of the way through to year 12, but those first two years were not great for me.

I had friends but didn't sit in the cool group by any means. I was an easy target because I was short and skinny. Even then, I remember we were taught at school that you don't fight back and to report bullying to the teachers.

I was in grade 8 all the way back in 2001, and bullying was a bit of a problem. It wasn't a hot topic like it is now, but even so, I would report the bullying to teachers and it would in most cases make things worse for me.

I wasn't the only person being bullied, I knew of others being bullied, some worse than I was. I think by bullying standards, I was luckier than others.

This is the problem with bullying and a problem that still exists: the repercussions of bullying are not great enough. Even if it is only verbal bullying, it still affects you.

I come from a large family of six (I have five sisters) and I am the oldest. So, my parents struggled financially at times, especially when my dad unexpectedly lost his job and it really affected us. My uniforms were never new, my parents would always buy my uniforms second hand from the uniform shop or online. This also made me a target for bullies, I was poor.

For a while, I didn't tell my parents what was going on, neither did the school surprisingly. It wasn't until one bullying incident that my parents found out and they were furious.

One day I was at my locker getting out books for a mathematics class and a bully by the name of Brad was giving me a hard time. He was one of the two main bullies would give me a hard time.

I can't remember exactly what he said, but it was something about my family and how I was really poor. It really hurt me, so I said something back to him, which he didn't like.

We got into a fight, he put me into a headlock and started dragging me around. This guy was way taller and bigger than me. People watched, nobody helped. He then extended his leg out and pushed me into some lockers and I split my head open. Blood was pouring out everywhere, it was like a nightmare scene.

Someone ran into the mathematics block panicking, Brad seemed shocked at what just happened (surprised his act of violence resulted in this). A teacher rushed out and picked me up, then carried me to the office.

They called an ambulance, I was sitting in the sick bay as staff kept asking me if I was okay. Firm pressure was being applied to my head, I kept being asked if I felt dizzy or tired.

The ambulance arrived and I was taken to the hospital. They did a brain scan to make sure I was okay and gave me some stitches. I had a large cut in my head, but no concussion or head damage (fortunately).

My parents rushed up the hospital and they were quite upset at what had happened. My uniform was covered in blood from my head. A few hours later after observation, I was sent home and my parents asked what happened.

I explained I have been bullied at school, but it had never been this bad. My mum was talking about suing the school and Brad for the attack, my dad calmed her down and they never, fortunately, did that.

Then my dad asked me, "Why didn't you fight back?" - I explained that Brad was bigger than me and I didn't know how to fight back. I also explained that we're told not to fight back and report bullies or we could get in trouble.

"I am going to teach you to fight and I am going to ask your uncle Steven to help", uncle Steven is my dads older brother by five years. My dad is a warm gentle soul, but his brother is considered a bit of a local hero where he lives because he used to be quite a good boxer and ran a little boxing gym on his property where he lived.

As a child, my cousins and I grew up thinking uncle Steven was awesome. He was a really good boxer, he had done a stint of eight years in prison for attempting to rob a post office at gunpoint when he was younger. He was a troubled guy who after jail found solace in boxing, and it kept him out of trouble.

So what happened next is I was sent to stay at my uncle Steven's house for two weeks. I was pulled out of school because my dad wanted me to learn to defend myself. Picture a scrawny 14-year-old kid learning to box. My uncle was a bit of a tough guy, but kind.

"Mate, we are going to teach you how to fuck these little bastards up. When we're finished, you're going to know how to throw a punch, take a punch and stand up for yourself", said my uncle Steven. "I love it when the underdog prevails", he continued.

For those two weeks, we trained every single day. I would wake up at 5 am and we would be outside training. He would make me punch a hard bag until I had no energy left to punch it anymore. Then he would get the hand pads out and make me hit them until I couldn't hit anymore.

We would go from 5 am through to 1-2pm. As a 14-year-old kid, I was energetic but not strong, so it was really difficult. After about a week, I started to get used to the training and somewhat enjoy it.

I remember after the first week my uncle said, "Now you're going to hit me, as hard as you can" - so I would chase him around this concrete slab he had placed outside and try hitting him as hard as I could. This was the fun part. I had gone from hitting pads and bags, to actually getting to take a shot at my uncle.

After the two weeks were up, I had a renewed sense of confidence. My uncles parting words to me are still memorable to this day, "Don't be afraid to hit back and never take the first shot. You only fight back if someone else hits you first or you're the bully"

The head incident must have spooked Brad because he didn't really talk to me or go near me. The fact the police were called and Brad was threatened with expulsion and my parents were asked if they wanted to press charges against him (they didn't because they didn't want to ruin a young child's life, even if they bullied their son).

People would joke about how I got bashed and for the first week back, my school shirt still had faint bloodstains in it from the incident. People thought that was hilarious, "He's still got the bloodstains in his shirt" my mum tried to remove them, but couldn't. My parents couldn't afford to get me a new shirt until the next week.

About 2 months had passed since the incident and another bully by the name of Trent who was of similar size to me, but hung out in the cool group was bothering me in my woodworking class.

Trent was flicking my ears and harassing me. So, I kept telling him to "leave me alone" and eventually I said to him, "leave me alone you fucking bully" and he replied, "I'll see you after class"

After class we all left and I went in a separate direction. I thought Trent hadn't bothered to "see me after class" until I turned a corner and Trent and two of his friends were waiting for me. He didn't say a word and before I could assess the situation, he punched me right in the face landing on my nose.

So, with my father's voice in my head and my uncle Steven telling me to fight back, I put my training into practice. I landed a barrage of punches at Trent, I managed to maybe hit him three times I got him in the nose and a couple on the face.

Before the incident could progress, a teacher came and we were all dragged down to the office. I had a little redness on my face, but Trent didn't make me bleed. He, on the other hand, his nose was leaking out blood like a tap and his lip was swollen.

Even though I was defending myself and the school knew Trent threw the first punch, we were both suspended from school for three days for fighting. The school punished me for defending myself and gave the same punishment to Trent who was the one who hit me first and started it all.

After I returned to school, it was a completely new experience. This act of defending myself resulted in the bullying stopping completely. Trent stayed away from me, and as for Brad, oddly enough we became friends.

We lost contact a couple of years out from high school, he started hanging out with a bad crowd and got into drugs. But for about 5 years we were pretty good friends and he expressed remorse for bullying and hurting me. I actually discovered when we became friends, his family were not wealthy either and we were more alike in more ways than one.

Should you teach your kids to fight back?

That's my story of bullying, learning to defend myself was one of the best things to happen to me. The only language bullies speak is harassment and violence and when you take that away from them, they have nothing.

As a father of a son who is three, I have similar fears that he will be bullied as well. So, yes, I think fighting back is something all kids should learn. Bullies seek out vulnerable people they can push around, take away that power and they've got nothing.

I don't believe violence is the answer, but when faced with a bully who won't let you walk away from a situation, sometimes defending yourself is the only option that you have. I acknowledge bullying is more complex these days, much of it done online through social media, but the physical bullying still exists.

I will be teaching my son when he is older to fight back. Who knows, maybe even in his old age, uncle Steven will take my son up to his house for a couple of weeks and teach him to fight as well (he's still doing boxing training).