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Guest post: When I was bullied at school, home was my refuge. Today's kids have no escape

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MumsnetGuestPosts · 19/02/2014 11:48

I've never spoken about what happened to me at high school, so I called my mum to ask whether she thought I should do so now. “Are you sure you want to bring back those bad memories?” she said. But I am sure: I think my story can help young people believe that they can find a way out, as I did - and I hope it might serve as a wake-up call for adults too.

It began in the summer of 1976, when I was 13 years old. My family went on a holiday and I missed a big end-of-year school party. Sometimes, when you're not there, you're the one the other kids start talking about and picking on. When I got back, I was ostracised. It didn't end until I was 17.

I'd had my braces off that spring - I was blossoming into a young woman, and starting to grow up. That was the trigger, I think. The comments started coming: “You think you're beautiful now”, “You think you are so hot” – that sort of thing. It began as verbal abuse, but soon escalated until it was almost institutionalised. It seemed everyone was involved.

School life revolved around your locker, and mine was broken into nearly every day. I was always afraid to open it because of what they'd put in there. There would be a dead fish hanging by the gills from my coat hook, dripping over my things. Or tampons and other sanitary products taped to the inside. Or the scrapings of food from people's lunches thrown everywhere – on my clothes, my books. Just horrendous stuff.

Winters are incredibly cold in Pennsylvania, so we all wore thick, opaque tights to keep warm. A group of really tough girls would take a comb, and slash at the back of my knees, tearing my tights off; I'd be left freezing all day in -25°C temperatures. Or I'd be wrestled or knocked down, and they'd pull my hair and kick me. They'd hide my uniform when I was at gym class so that I couldn't find my clothes, or just throw my stuff in the bin.

Oddly, the more the abuse escalated, the more passive I became. I didn't think there was anything I could do to stop it. I didn't tell my teachers or my parents what was going on. I thought if I did, my mum would intervene and it would get worse. I was completely alone. I felt scared most of the time, and consequently, I was sick a lot. I missed so much school, probably 30 or 40 days a year. I just couldn't handle it.

One evening, I went to a basketball game between my Catholic school and the local public school. I was with a couple of girls – bless them, they had the courage to sit with me – and I felt okay. We were watching the game when this noise started, a chanting between the two sides. I thought it was competitive banter. We all started listening to it, then we all realised at the same time – the entire gymnasium was chanting, “Joann Shields is fat, Joann Shields is fat.” It just went on and on and on; everyone was laughing hysterically and pointing at me. Eventually, the mother of a classmate very quietly took me by the arm, and walked me out of the door.

In the end, my body gave up. I was diagnosed with glandular fever and had to stop going to school. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe - I finished my coursework from home, and never went back, except to receive my diploma. I haven't been back to my hometown for more than two weeks at a time since.

At university, I finally managed to make two friends - they're still my best friends today. I remember once we were laughing hysterically, as you do with your best mates. I was overcome with emotion and started to cry: I hadn't believed I could ever be that happy again. To this day, though, I still have fears about friendships with women: I overcompensate when someone doesn't like me because, to be quite honest, I'm afraid of what they might do. Afraid that something could go wrong, like it did during that summer back in 1976.

After university, I moved to Silicon Valley, eventually taking up key roles at tech companies Google, AOL, Bebo and Facebook. In all these roles, I have kept my high-school experience close to mind. Technology affords us so many benefits, but it can also be used in terrible ways - and I have always believed that the leaders of this industry must take responsibility, and ensure that products and platforms are not used to hurt others in any way that can possibly be avoided.

I think of those years of bullying as torture. It was like being stuck in a cell and pulled out every now and then to be abused, then sent back. It was relentless. But at least, during those high-school years, I could escape to my home; it was my sanctuary. If any of the bullies wanted to get hold of me, they had to ring the landline and my mum would usually answer. For kids today, it's impossible to hide. They are connected 24/7, and the abuse they suffer at school continues at home, on social networks like Facebook, Twitter, WhatsApp and Ask.fm. It's always there, taunting them.

When it's easy to ruin someone's life by hitting 'post' or 'send", we need to come together and intervene. It's not the products or tools, but the people who are using them – and those who look the other way. In this evolving world of ever-more complex social interactions, we must find new ways to protect our children from harm.

Kids have to feel safe to say "Stop". We need celebrities whom kids respect to talk about this, and we need to hear from kids and adults who were bullied - about successful coping strategies, about what to do if it's happening to you. On the other side, it needs to be cool to say, “I'm not going to hurt this person” - because the opportunities to hurt are always 'on'. We never disconnect.

In 2005, I did something that surprised me: I went back to a reunion. That year, I felt strong - I looked great, and I had a job with Google, the hottest tech company on the planet. Somebody asked, "Are you someone's wife?" and I said, "No, I'm Joanna Shields. You don't remember me?" You could see the shock and horror on their faces as they remembered what had happened, probably for the first time in decades.

I don't bear any bitterness towards my classmates: I have a very good life and those experiences, no matter how horrible, have made me into who I am. Those coping mechanisms I developed 30 years ago – the relentless drive that I had to overcome my situation – have served me well throughout my life. I think it is important to remember, when we find ourselves feeling down and desperate, that it's not where you are today that defines you; it's the distance you will travel, and the person you will become that truly matters.

Read the full interview with Joanna at [[http://www.redonline.co.uk/red-women/interviews/joanna-shields
at RedOnline.co.uk]]

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Oblomov · 19/02/2014 12:00

Good god. What a sad post. But a good one.
I love your teal jacket in the photo!!