I decided to stop being friends with George. In class and at lunch, I spent less and less time with him. Our classmates, sensing that they had created a rift between George and me, intensified their attacks on him. Each day, George grew more desperate as he realized that the one person who could prevent him from being completely isolated was closing him off. Then, at recess one day, the meanest kid in the school, Chris, decided he had had enough of George. He vowed that he was going to beat up George and anyone else who claimed to be his friend.
A mob of kids formed and came after me. He grabbed me by my shirt and raised his fist over my head. The hot blast of his breath carried droplets of his spit into my face. Several kids snickered and mumbled under their breath. Chris stared at me for a few seconds and then threw me to the ground. Someone pointed to George sitting alone on top of the monkey bars about thirty yards from where we were.
He was watching me. The use of flashbacks demonstrates the psychological depth of the story, showing that such traumatic experiences could never be graved by the worn-out days, but it will be always part of the ongoing presence of the victim. It helps to clearly visualize parts of the story and create a strong mantle picture.
Furthermore, Paul Logan introduced a number of literary devices in this piece of literature to help him express his theme better. The use of colloquial language is very important in contextualizing the text.
Nevertheless, characterization in the story is an indirect one. It is through their actions and decisions that are taken in response to the events that the readers get to build up a solid opinion about each of the characters, be it that of Paul or of any other secondary character.
A lot of these kids that get picked on at school end up being serial killer or child molesters and mad at the world. I think that Paul was. Free English-language films , singles , Bullying Words 2 Pages. Premium Abuse , Bullying Words 2 Pages. I knew that people were kind to give things to us, but I hated wearing clothes that might have been donated by my classmates. Each time I wore something from the bags, I feared that the other kids might recognize something that was once theirs.
Besides my outdated clothes, I wore thick glasses, had crossed eyes, and spoke with a persistent lisp. As a result, footballs, baseballs, soccer balls and basketballs became my enemies. I knew, before I stepped on the field or court, that I would do something clumsy or foolish and that everyone would laugh at me. I feared humiliation so much that I became skillful at feigning illnesses to get out of gym class. Eventually I learned how to give myself low-grade fevers so the nurse would write me an excuse.
It worked for a while, until the gym teachers caught on. When I did have to play, I was always the last one chosen to be on any team. In fact, team captains did everything in their power to make their opponents get stuck with me.
For four years, from second through fifth grade, I prayed nightly for God to give me school days in which I would not be insulted, embarrassed, or made to feel ashamed. I thought my prayers were answered when my mother decided to move during the summer before sixth grade. The move meant that I got to start sixth grade in a different school, a place where I had no reputation. He never yelled at me or expressed anger, disappointment, or even sadness.
Instead he just looked at me. It was there a year later, when I watched several seniors press a wad of chewing gum into the hair of a new girl on the bus. Each time that I witnessed another awkward, uncomfortable, scared kid being tormented, I thought of George, and gradually his haunting stare began to speak to me. No longer silent, it told me that every child who is picked on and taunted deserves better, that no one—no matter how big, strong, attractive or popular—has the right to abuse another person.
Finally, in my junior year when a loudmouthed, pink-skinned bully 17 named Donald began picking on two freshmen on the bus, I could no longer deny George. Donald was crumpling a large wad of paper and preparing to bounce it off the back of the head of one of the young students when I interrupted him. By then I was six inches taller and, 18 after two years of high-school wrestling, thirty pounds heavier than I had been in my freshman year.
He stopped what he was doing, squinted and stared at me. A glimpse of my own past, of 22 rowing the bus, of being mocked for my clothes, my lisp, my glasses, and my absent father flashed in my mind. The bus was silent. He got up from his seat and leaned over me, and I rose from my seat to face him. For a minute, both of us just stood there, without a word, staring. But he never threw that wad of paper. For the rest of the year, whenever I was on the bus, Don and the other troublemakers were noticeably quiet.
No one should have to row the bus. Did you enjoy reading this selection? Why or why not? What do you think would have happened if Paul had stood up for George? Would it have made any difference? Did your elementary or high school have bullies and victims similar to the ones in this story?
How did they behave? Circle the letter of the word or phrase that best completes each of the following four items. In the sentence below, the word simulate means a. In the sentence below, the word feigning means a. In the sentences below, the word rift means a.
In the sentence below, the word vulnerable means a. Circle the letter of the answer that best completes each of the following four items.
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