We seem to have normalized cruelty in this country, but instead of calling it what it is, bullying, we disguise it as “masculine energy” and celebrate and elect those who allegedly embody these traits. While I appreciate that some may feel the need to act this way to compensate for a serious lack of self-esteem, I am concerned about its negative effects on our youth because it teaches them that exhibiting unkind and aggressive behavior toward others is acceptable. 

Research indicates that most school shootings were committed by someone who was a victim of bullying, and according to the World Health Organization, suicide is the third leading cause of death among young people, with rates “high among vulnerable groups who experience discrimination,” such as those in the LGBTQ+ community.  

While Democrats and Republicans agree that mental health care is important and that everyone should have access to resources, we fail to acknowledge our role in contributing to the circumstances driving people to seek such care. Roughly 77 million Americans in this country decided that mocking others, silencing fellow Americans with lawsuits or other forms of financial ruin, and passing legislation taking away the fundamental human rights of our neighbors is not only acceptable but downright “patriotic.” And what’s worse, is while those same individuals support mental health care, they seem unconcerned that not everyone can afford it. 

And if you think that our behavior does not affect our children, then you are mistaken. As a middle school teacher for more than 25 years, I have seen it play out in my classroom, particularly in the past decade. I watched as the system protected the bullies instead of those who were bullied, or the parents of bullies intimidated administrators into submitting to their demands while the parents of victims had no rights at all, as in the case of Flora Martinez, who died by suicide in Las Vegas on May 7, 2024. 

I loved being an educator but was fed up with no longer being able to protect my students from the bullies and their parents. While that was not the only reason I decided to retire early, it heavily influenced my decision to leave the profession. And frankly, it was personal for me because not only do I understand what it feels like to be bullied, but that bullying changed the trajectory of my life. 

What I am about to share puts me in a vulnerable position, and, even at 51, I am still embarrassed to talk about it because I can anticipate the criticism that will follow. However, I think my story highlights the devastating impact bullying has on people, no matter how insignificant it may seem to others. 

I spent every day of my junior high school years being unmercifully made fun of because the hair on my arms was darker and thicker than most and I had a bump on my nose. I was also bigger than average because I developed early. A particular group of boys harassed me about my appearance for nearly two years, calling me a fat ugly dog, neanderthal and dick nose, just to name a few. 

I went home from school crying almost every single day. But it was the 1980s, and we chalked up bullying as just part of growing up, saying “Sticks and stones will break your bones but names will never hurt you.” Well, when you are tormented daily for merely existing it becomes difficult to shake off. 

Even though my parents adored me and always told me I was beautiful, it wasn’t enough. At 13 years old, I didn't have the life experience or emotional intelligence to know what to do and the adults in my life meant well but were no help because we did not address mental health in those days. In my mind, something was fundamentally wrong with me for reasons I could not control. 

I began spiraling into a deep depression, even going so far as to contemplate taking my own life. But as a Catholic, I was taught to believe that suicide was a sin so while I didn’t go through with it, I did take other drastic measures to stay safe by coming up with ways to control how others saw me, including starving myself so they would stop calling me fat.

Well, it worked, but I became too skinny, stopped getting my periods and my hair started falling out. I was eventually diagnosed with anorexia during my sophomore year of high school. As might be expected, my self-esteem was terrible. It is no surprise that my lack of self-worth in those days combined with no mental health care landed me in an abusive marriage in my early 20s. 

I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that kids today have it much worse than I did because at least we didn’t have social media in 1987. And if nonstop name-calling had that effect on me, I can’t imagine what it must be like to see ads on television or have legislation passed that demonized my existence. I can’t fathom the fear of being pulled over because of the color of my skin or the anxiety of having to participate in regular active shooter drills because adults care more about banning 34 trans athletes from competing in sports, rather than passing legislation protecting the 12 children who die from gun violence each day in America. 

No wonder the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention is reporting that people of all ages are suffering from heightened symptoms of anxiety and depression, with young people having a 52 percent increased rate of suicide since the year 2000. 

The issues are rarely black and white, but every issue boils down to this: Our decisions affect someone else’s lived experience. If we choose to ignore this fact, I fear the mental health crisis in the United States will only get worse, especially during the next four years, given the way our leadership and those who support them choose to treat others. We may not be able to prevent all of the causes of this epidemic, but we certainly can prevent our children from being bullied to death. 

Children are our mirrors and will model the behavior they see at home and among the influential adults in their lives, so we must lead by example and elect lawmakers who do the same. We owe it to our young people to be kinder and more compassionate, and we must hold each other more accountable for doing so because the world we create today is the one they’ll inherit tomorrow. 

“There are only three ways to teach a child. The first is by example, the second is by example, the third is by example.” — Albert Schweitzer (Nobel Peace Prize winner and humanitarian) 

Kelly Edgar taught in the fifth largest school district in the country, Clark County, for 25 years, holds bachelor’s and master’s degrees in music education, and is a National Board Certified Vocal Music Teacher. She has also served as a mentor and cooperating teacher for preservice choral music teachers and was the task force chairperson for middle school choral music from 2010-2023.

The Nevada Independent welcomes informed, cogent rebuttals to opinion pieces such as this. Send them to [email protected].