A game of darts that got out of hand...

Conflict between young boys typically ends in a bit of a brawl, but in the experience of many is over and done with as boys tend to move on or at least get other these things in a more timely way than girls.  The following true story was written by Ken Wright about a childhood experience involving his cousin.  We all a good laugh over it.

My cousin Scott and I really never got along. He was several years older than I and was bigger and tougher. Actually, he was a big bully. I didn’t see him often, but when I did, he was trouble. I never knew why he picked on me, but he surely did.

One Sunday when I was about 12 years, old my parents and I went to visit Scott and his family. After we greeted each other and the parents were talking in the living room, Scott and I went to play in the basement play room.

We played darts and Scott would keep hitting me and annoying me when I tried to throw my darts.

Oh, did I mention that he would cheat at everything?

Finally, I had had it. Scott and I were fighting for the darts on the dartboard, when I grabbed a dart and stuck it through his hand, pinning it to the board. He screamed, yanked the dart out of his hand and ran upstairs crying to his mother.

He never bullied me again, and I learned that when you are bullied, fight back. Hard. Bullies really are cowards!

Female friend or Foe?

The following story illustrates the age old problem of so many young girls as they struggle with that one other girl they are often competing against.  Typically they have similar interests and could be friends, however when one wins and the other loses jealously, anger, and hurt feelings ensue.  Thus enters what we today call, the "Tiger Mother"  to come in and defend her hurt cub.  I was fascinated by Joan's story from a different generation with this timeless theme.
  
When I was in High School there was a girl in my class named Lauren.  In extra curricular activities we had the same interests, namely piano, drama club and majorettes in the High School Band.

Lauren and I both tried out for majorette leader and both of us did very well at tryouts.  I was the chosen person and this created a very upset Lauren, but mostly her mother.  She called the principal of the school and demanded a meeting at the school that evening with the principal, my mother, myself, Lauren and her mother challenging my win over her daughter.

The principal stated that we girls were very close, however my academic record exceeded Laurens so I was the more qualified candidate.  He explained that there would be many times when it would be necessary for me to cut classes at various times to go to teach six, seven and eighth grade baton lessons in preparation for their experience to join the band when they were selected.

Needless to say there could be no argument so all went home.  The next day at school she would not speak to me and there was obvious resolution to the problem at this point in time.  However, she continued her challenge at every opportunity she could, but I also continued to perform to the best of my ability and I succeeded.

by Joan Clelan

Character and Conflict

The following story was written by Olive Padden 

     Small, and a year younger than her classmates she waited on the parochial school ground waiting for acceptance.  How was she to gain it from those bigger, older, wiser kids?
     She desparately wanted to be accepted so she decided to offer to do something that they all talked about but no one acted on.  It had to do with Sister Mary Martin's turned up shoe.
      Sister limped a bit when walking around the classroom in her heavy black nun shoes.
     One of the stories whispered among her classmates was that Sister had been married and in an accident where a train had sliced off the toes on her left foot.  That would explain the upward bend of her clunky black nun shoe, but no one knew how to kind out the truth.  What would happen if by poking around you brought on punishment, retaliation, even suspension.
     The stakes were high - finally acceptance or continual rejection.  Her thoughts were not obvious, so when she suddenly burst our, "I'll do it!"  The whole group listened while she told her plan.  Lollie, a teachers pet, would stay after school to help clean erasers and while there she'd find a way to step  on that curling left shoe.
     The group liked it.  They had their sacrificial lamb.  They could gain knowledge with no exposure.
     And now, classes were over.  Everyone gone but Lollie and sister.  She planned her route carefully.  Walk over to the blackboard, pick up an eraser in each hand, stagger a little, and land on that twisted left shoe ...would there be a reaction.
     Her heart in her throat, holding her breathe a little, she took the necessary steps down and down she came, as hard as she could on the ugly shoe.  No sound, not a facial grimace, or an ouch.  Sister merely cautioned to beat the erasers hard.
     When she stomped on the leather shoe it squished down flat.  The answer now she could make her report to the playground group.  Finishing up the erasers she quickly went to the waiting group to win her acceptance.
     "No toes."  She whispered.  The temporary mantle of acceptance fell on her small shoulder.  The spy had made her report.