Let’s get to know each other a little better, shall we?!
5 Things You May Not Know About Me
1. I have ADHD.
It may not be super surprising, and yes, I’ve made this public before. Technically, it used to be called “ADD” and I have a LOT of thoughts about what it is, what it should be considered, how to leverage the raw energy of it, etc. I’m planning a post on this later. Suffice to say, it isn’t and shouldn’t be considered a big deal. If you take a look at any kiddo under the age of 3, they all seem to be have “ADD.” Why? Because they are LEARNING! In fact, all that fidgeting “ADHD kids” get in trouble for… it’s actually part of their learning experience. Movement. After all, movement is the first learning experience for babies. #JustSaying
2. I am fairly musical & have perfect pitch.
So, I started learning how to play the piano around age 4’ish? I don’t remember exactly. All I know was that I started playing Mozart stuff at an early age. I was under formal music tutelage until my junior year in high school. By then, I had my hand at the cello, trumpet, drums, percussion, guitar, bass guitar, and some other random things. All the stuff I needed to have go at being a 1-man-band. Well, I found out later in my musical experience that I have something called Perfect Pitch. I guess there are several versions of it and I never knew until I yelled at my sister during a practice duet for constantly missing a super obvious note that should go with the notes I was playing. It was obvious, wasn’t it? Apparently, it wasn’t. After a 30 minute argument, my parents finally figured out I had perfect pitch. They tested me, LOL. They actually had me identify notes they were playing while I closed my eyes to the piano. I got every single one. From then, playing music became a different deal all together. Good times.
3. I love surf fishing!
Despite how active I may seem from the past of surfing and current studies in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, I love the peace of fishing. It’s been a very long time since I’ve gone surf fishing — I definitely miss it. I miss the entire process; gathering bait early in the morning, finding a really good spot at night. Or, using left over bait and hunting down a shore with croaker holes and choice areas where fish are gathering for runs. It’s just a really nice way of letting everything unwind; to enjoy the simplicity of being in the water for a single purpose — the experience. If I catch stuff, great! If not, I’ve really enjoyed myself. I usually use light line. Eventually, I’ll spend the money to try my hand at fly fishing the surf. It’s a Southern California thing, apparently… haha. One day 😉
4. I used to stutter.
I was a terrible speaker growing up. In fact, at age 8 or 9, I would send my little sitter up to order from McDonalds and what not — all because I couldn’t finish an order without stuttering myself into complete humiliation. I think it was a combination of my ADD brain going too fast for my body to keep up with — along with the fact that I just lacked the practice. I had absolutely terrifying fears of public speaking throughout elementary and secondary school years. Somewhere in college, I started getting comfortable. It was only toward the end of grad-school round#1 (the DPT) that I began to gather myself as a speaker. Funny enough, I am now considered a fairly decent speaker, having been invited several times to speak at the level of national platforms on health and exercise. #Irony
5. In high school, I was a failure at English.
My least favorite subject in school was always English. I hated reading and writing growing up.
Ironically, I now write for a living!
The thing of it was, I always got bad grades, always disagreed with the teachers on why my grades weren’t good, and basically hated the entire subjectiveness of reading & writing. I hated that I could write up a perfect essay with excellent points, all based on logic. However, the teacher could simply disagree with my points and my would be A grade would turn into a C. Somewhere in the mix, I finally figured out that writing for a teacher is very different than writing for an audience. A teacher has their own agenda. However, an audience wants content they can relate to, connect with, and invest their emotions in. Writing is about turning letters on a page into a timeless experience.
So, this post gets a bit more serious and even more raw. Feeling down isn’t something to be ashamed of, nor is it something to be avoided. Failure is the mother of success. Being bullied — well, I feel it has made me stronger. It still isn’t an easy thing to be open about. However, I’ve learned that by being open, I will help many others.
This one… is a difficult share.
In fact, it’s taken me almost a year for me to finish this post & work up the nerve to share it. You’ll likely feel put off, angry or even offended. And, that’s okay. Everyone should feel the same way when hearing about someone getting bullied.
I’ll definitely share some specific stories; but, I won’t turn this into a book long sob story. Really, all I want to share is some perspective.
Bullying is a huge deal these days. And, I’m glad that it is. It’s being covered on many media outlets. And, it was even covered (with an amazing production, I might add) in one of my family’s favorite shows Girl Meets World. Yes… I’m an unabashed Disney fan.
I’m going to share just a little bit about my experiences being bullied. As this is a sensitive topic, I want to first say that anyone’s experience being bullied is unique. No one experience is the same. Just because one person perceives something one way does not invalidate or discriminate against someone else’s experience.
I’m merely offering my perspective, growing up bullied.
Growing Up Bullied
My earliest memory of being treated ill was when I was just before 3 years of age. I was trying to climb up to this one area of the playground and I didn’t have the upper body strength to do so. Now, you have to appreciate that this was an “old” style playground. Mostly made from wood and not exactly safe by any means. I was trying to reach this 3rd platform where it was created to be a type of watch tower. The 2nd level was where the slide was. And, the 1st level under it was basically a sandbox play area.
To get to the 3rd level, you had to do a pull up and then throw your legs over the edge to climb up. For a toddler, that wasn’t easy. For someone who was 4-5 years old, it was a piece of cake. That’s when I got this nice bit of input after failing to climb several times.
YOU can’t come up here! Up here is only for the big kids.
Haha. It’s not like its scarring or anything. But, it was then that I realized people can actually treat you in a manner that isn’t so much kind.
Well, when I finally got into 1st grade, that was when the trouble really began. I was the only Asian kid in my class and I think one of 3 Asians in the entire school. This was my first experience of racial bullying. Typically, it was language stuff like talking to me in “ching chong” words. Other times, kids would come up to me, play with their eyes and slant them asking me if I was “Chinese, Japanese, or Korean?” Specifically, Chinese was slanted up. Japanese was slanted down. And, Korean was one eye slanted up, the other slanted down.
And, it didn’t stop there.
Physical bullying became a problem. I had my lunch smacked down from my hand. Balls thrown at my face. I was tripped. Chased around. Beat down. As I can recall it, 1st and 2nd grade was rather tame. It was 3rd grade that was the worst of it.
The school spanned more grades with pretty rough kids. There were also territories of the playground I wasn’t exactly aware of. I was thoroughly taught the importance of it. It was also this year that I befriended an African American kid by the name of Phillip. While I was one of two Asians in the school. He was the only “black kid.” Strength in numbers, right? We stuck together pretty often on the playground. It was the only way to feel safe. We were both scrawny kids for our age so our best bet was actually to blend in with kids younger than us. And, to get back to our classroom as early as possible.
Emotionally, the name calling, fear generating, threats and what not was probably the worst. Whoever came up with the phrase “sticks and stones” put on a strong face. We all know words hurt. When we get older, more mature, develop thicker skin — sure, we can hold true to that. But, as a small child? There’s just no way.
The biggest tragedy of growing up bullied was that I felt disliked. I was people didn’t like me. And, what was even worse than that: I didn’t like me.
I became my biggest victim. Sure, I ended up picking up martial arts and what not. That was good for me in part. Still my biggest remedy was hiding. Martial arts only helped so much. When groups of kids singled me out and we got into a fight — I guess these days we call it an “altercation” — I’d eventually get the better of them. But, I’d be the one to be sent to the principal’s office because I “won” the fight.
If I turned the other cheek, I’d just get a beating or at the very least a scampering. If I “told on” any of the bullies, they’d just deny it. After all, they have their group of friends to back them up. I’m just the weird, Asian kid who is making up random accusations.
It probably wasn’t until the end of middle school that I started realizing ways to deal with bullies. It was also around that time that I finally broke out of my shell. In retrospect, I probably invited a little bit of negative attention as a late bloomer. It still holds no excuse to be targeted or to be bullied. Eventually, it just clicked for me. I knew what I needed to do. I left my school and went to high school somewhere else.
A fresh start.
If we fast forward all this, it was ironic in that when I went back visit to my old middle school where bullying basically progressively got better and even stopped; I went back, hoping to prove to whoever was left that I was worth my while. Ben Fung came back victorious! From a different school, now, as a “cool kid.”
Ironies of ironies, I found out that I was always cool.
Yup. during a senior comeback tour, I visited my old middle school just to see who would still be there as seniors in high school. Apparently, I was upon my return (and, apparently was always) as popular as ever. EVERYONE on campus basically found a way to jet out of class to come say “Hi” to me.
I never knew! And, as I’m typing, I wonder how much of this negative taint actually was a spawn of me not liking me, from a very early age. That I interpreted all my post-3rd grade experiences through such a negative lens, a negative view of myself?
Fast forward again another 10-15 years, I’ve recently gotten word that in other social circles which I’ve long been absent from, they apparently still talk about me. And, not only do they talk about me, they reference me with fondness, respect, and a bit of… legend? As if I was some great character of the past, a once and still welcome social presence who brought goodness into their lives.
Who knew? I certainly didn’t.
I guess what I’m trying to say is this. Growing up bullied, the biggest tragedy was my mind. I felt worse about everything in life. I felt worse about me. And, everything I thought of fell into and darker, depressed place.
I did learn some things, though:
If you don’t stand up for yourself, no one else will.
People who dislike you will always fight dirty, lie, cheat, and stab you in the back.
I rather fight and get beat up, than get teased on a daily basis. Self-Victimized.
If you fight for someone else, be ready to take the fall for it. Especially if you win.
Sometimes, the only victory is change. Changing the environment. Changing oneself. Changing for better opportunities.
If you expected a happy ending to this post, I’m sorry I don’t have one to give. Bullying sucks. Growing up bullied, my wife has told me it still affects me from time to time. It’s not that I’m crippled because of it. It’s simply that I still see certain things in life with that lens… that I’m unwanted… a target.
If there is ANYTHING you take away from this post, it is this: If there is bullying going on, it’s on YOU to stop it. You, the person being bullied. You, the bully, who needs to stop and apologize with the rest of your life. And, you, the observer who should be intervening. If there is bullying going on; parents, you need to step in with a mannerism that doesn’t allow for bullies to get away with things. Merely talking to the teacher only makes thing worse. Typically, your kid has already suffered for weeks. If you are stepping in, make it a legal matter — and, get your kid out of dodge. Finally, if you are being bullied. Stay strong. I survived. You will too. It does eventually end. It isn’t fair, it isn’t right, and nothing can really make it right. I can tell you that it eventually doesn’t matter the way you feel it does now.
I don’t think back on my childhood and remember the bullying. It’s not a big concern for me anymore. If anything, I feel it actually made me tougher — though, that in and of itself, is a double edge sword.
What I do think back on is how I wish I handled it differently. While I can’t change the past. I am writing this now so that you reading it, can make better your future. If you need someone to talk to about bullying, I’m definitely here. So are your friends, family, teachers, counselors, and many other loved ones.
A final lesson of sorts that I’ll share is this: I thought so much worse of myself because I grew up bullied. I was surprised and am continually surprised to find out how well people thought of me when I thought the worst of myself.
So… as I mentioned in the intro video. If you see any of it going at all. If you see someone standing over another. It is YOUR job to stand with the other… the person being bullied. And, if things eventually get rough, good on you for defending someone weaker.
If you need a peak into how deep bullying goes, spend 2 bux and watch this 30 minute episode. It is really well done. And, it drives home the ultimate victim in bullying — people learn to hate themselves.