Shameful Memories, a retrospective by L. Paul Schneider

Many people have avoided our class reunions. I often wonder why, but also in my heart know why for some. School days were not pleasant for some kids. As a Clinical Psychologist, I have heard many of the stories of folks whose lives as kids were hell. Today, we hear

L. Paul Schneider

these stories on the internet and mainstream media every day. But back in our school days, those things were not talked about.

How many of our classmates were beaten regularly by a parent? How many were sexually abused by family or friends? How many were told how worthless, ugly, stupid they were? How many were neglected?

My shame comes in when I recall kids that were bullied, called names, taunted. I tried not to participate; but I did not intervene, either. Those kids have never shown up for a reunion. And as I have learned, often the bullies were themselves abused at home. Many of those kids have not shown up, either. Yeah, I can rationalize that we were “just kids”, that I was a scrawny runt, that it was “none of my business”, and that I, too, had been bullied. But that regret, guilt, and shame for that lack of courage in not standing up for those oppressed kids does haunt me.

My dad and mom had a strong value for our family of “Do the right thing.” I did let them down at times. But I also have devoted my adult life to trying to do the right thing, standing up for the oppressed, the down-trodden, the poor, the mentally ill. In many ways, I am trying to make up for my cowardice as a kid. ( Hopefully, that will reduce my sentence in Purgatory!)

If any of you who were targets of the bullying in school read this, my sincerest regrets and apologies. I do remember you, and pray for you. If you can find it in your hearts to forgive those of us who bullied or were complicit in it, I would be most grateful.

And, I would encourage you to engage in our reunions and dialogues, such as this medium. I did talk to one of my bullies at one of our reunions, not in anger, but simply brought it up. That person sincerely apologized, heartfelt. That was very healing to me, and holds a special place in my memory today. Having put closure to that dark period, I can smile now when I think of him.

As a final note on this gloomy subject, I encourage all of you to stand up for those who don’t seem to matter. The invisible ones. The persecuted ones. The helpless ones. Those without a voice, or little voice. The marginalized ones. As Edmund Burke said, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”