MY SCHOOL bully was the archetypal thug: obnoxious, domineering, and much, much bigger than me.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
His approach to torment was three-pronged:
■ Ridicule the target as often as possible, in front of as many people as possible;
■ Exclude the target from schoolyard activities;
■ Undermine the target's friendships.
One day I snapped and my bully and I brawled on the back sports oval.
When the dust settled, the pair of us were marched into the principal's office.
Neither of us were about to shake hands and say sorry.
That is, until we were told our parents had been contacted.
That's when my bully began sobbing.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
This boy, a gorilla on my back for the best part of two years, begged with frightened eyes for the teachers not to call his house.
What made him react that way?
A few months later, after our relations had become surprisingly civil, my ex-bully came to school with his lip split and eye swollen shut in a purple mess.
I asked him what happened.
He said it was his fault, that he deserved "a bit of a slap", and that he shouldn't have talked back.
It is undeniable that bullying behaviour can, and does, have a catastrophic impact on young people and their families.
This week alone, reports showed that more and more students are quitting class and turning to home education and eSchool because of bullying, while a petition for stricter bullying and cyberbullying legislation attracted 50,000 signatories and will be presented to Federal Parliament.
But while the people behind Chloe's Law should be commended for raising awareness and pushing for action, it is important that we do not see law and punishment as a stand-alone solution to bullying.
Sure, the threat of a criminal record might be a better deterrent than suspension, temporary isolation, or having extra-curricular privileges taken away. But will criminalising someone who bullies truly expose the root of the problem?
Mental Health Council Tasmania chief executive Darren Carr said this week that he was sceptical of anti-bullying laws, given that people who are bullies are often quite vulnerable themselves and are at risk of being further marginalised.
I was lucky to get a good result with my bully.
But threatening him with prosecution would have done nothing to address the abuse he was receiving at home, or the social issues that had developed as a result.
Sean Langberg from North Carolina Youth Justice also warns of the dangers of criminalising people for bullying behaviour.
"Beliefs that students who bully are different and must be punished rather than counselled and rehabilitated are unproductive and result in harsh, ineffective policies targeting children rather than behaviour," he says.
"Bullying is not just a victim's issue, but also one that deserves to be addressed by entire schools and communities."
In her address to the Bullying, Young People and the Law Symposium in 2013, Australian Childrens Commisioner Megan Mitchell advocated a community-wide, youth-led approach, involving teachers, parents, schools and children.
"An effective framework should involve the collaboration of governments, organisations and individuals to build best practices for dealing with and preventing bullying," she said.
"Our focus should be on tolerance, knowledge and empowerment rather than punitive measures."
So where to from here?
The push for stricter anti-bullying laws is not without merit - legislation will help define what constitutes bullying and cyberbullying behaviour, while absolutely delivering a message that it is an unacceptable scourge.
But it would be an opportunity missed if this is the focus of our action.