I was jarred by an Associated Press headline: “12-year-old was arrested in death of a classmate who was hit in the head by a metal water bottle.” It brought back difficult memories when I was that age and repeatedly attacked by bullies who would not stop.

In the case of this juvenile who lived in Los Angeles, Khimberly was helping her sister in the middle school hallway (her sister was also being bullied) when she was struck in the head.

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She was taken for emergency brain surgery that was unsuccessful. The family said the sisters had been harassed and beaten for months; the authorities notified, nothing done. They are exploring legal action against the school authorities for their failure to protect her.

In my time, in seventh grade in Phoenix, I was beaten daily. I went to the principal. His response was “You can stop it if you want to.” I said, “You think I like being beaten? I don’t know how to stop it.”

After a particularly brutal beatdown at the school bus stop when school was let out early for a teacher conference, I banged on the front doors, begging to be let in. The principal’s secretary opened the door, let me in, then pushed me back out to the wolves. That was a bad day. I could have become a newspaper fatality headline.

I sent my guardian, my Uncle Boots, to meet with the principal. How often does the kid demand the adults in his house go to a school principal? My main bully would be paddled, but that brought little relief.

On the last week of school, the bullies sported brass knuckles, saying, “Your last day of school, your last day on Earth.” I was scared but outsmarted and managed to escape them.

There was one teacher in my time, only one. My shop teacher, who showed awareness and protected me, one day he saw me being chased during lunch. He brought me inside his room and sent the thugs away.

I was so grateful to sit quietly, safe from abuse, in his empty room as he graded papers. That was a good hour. I would get in touch with him when I graduated from college years later, thanking him for what he meant to me.

Months later in eighth grade I wondered if I should meet with the family attorney about the failure of the school system to protect me. I didn’t follow up on that thought.

The lesson here is the necessity for observant individual attention by teachers and administrators when they know aggressive beating is happening.

Do something. Don’t treat the victim like the criminal. Use your observational skills and draw rational conclusions. Put the innocent first. We don’t all look alike.

Mike Shelton, a former Yuma City Council member and retired public affairs professional and educator, is a writer, keynote speaker and published playwright and author. To reach Shelton, email mikshelt@msn.com.

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