Ah, Yes. Perfect Time For An Anatomy Lesson.

I was often bullied throughout elementary school and junior high. I struggled with making good friends until I got into high school.

This happened when I was in Life Science class in seventh grade. Our teacher put us into groups of four or five for a project. [Classmate] was in my group, and he had been bullying me since first grade. We started to work on our project, but every time I opened my mouth to say anything, [Classmate] would cut me off.

Classmate: “Shut up, [My Name], or I’ll punch you in the nuts.”

At this time, I should point out that I’m a cis woman.

It didn’t matter what I said, whether I was trying to contribute to the project or just asking [Classmate] to leave me alone. He just kept talking over me with the same line over and over. Even when I gave up and stopped trying to talk, he’d throw his oh-so-clever “threat” out every so often, just to remind me. Our other groupmates just laughed or looked uncomfortable; either way, they said nothing about it and just kept working on the project.

I looked around to see if the teacher had noticed. [Classmate] wasn’t exactly being quiet, but [Teacher] was at her podium on the far side of the room and evidently hadn’t heard anything.

Finally, fed up, I got up to talk to [Teacher]. I didn’t like being a tattletale, but it was incredibly frustrating to be expected to contribute to a group project and then not allowed to do ANYTHING.

Me: “Ms. [Teacher]? [Classmate] won’t let me talk. Every time I try to speak, he tells me to shut up or he’ll ‘punch me in the nuts’.”

[Teacher] was livid, which seemed promising. I hoped that she would walk over to the table and talk quietly to [Classmate] or maybe just move me to another group. Or both. Both would’ve been great.

But instead, she shouted at him from across the room.

Teacher: “[Classmate]! Did you tell [My Name] to shut up or you’d punch her in the nuts?”

The class fell completely silent as everyone stared at [Classmate], [Teacher], or me. I could feel my face burning with embarrassment; this was absolutely the last thing I wanted.

Classmate: “Yeah.”

Teacher: “First of all, that is incredibly rude. Second, the proper name for them is testes. You should know the proper terminology! Do you understand?”

Classmate: “Yeah.”

Teacher: “All right.”

Silence fell again as [Teacher] glared at [Classmate]. After a few moments, people lost interest and general project-related chatter began to rise in the room again.

Teacher: *To me* “Let me know if he keeps bothering you.”

Me: “Okay…”

And I went back to my chair.

Naturally, the harassment continued. I was still not permitted to speak, but [Classmate] had a new refrain.

Classmate: “Shut up, [My Name], or I’ll punch you in the testes.”

I put up with this for a while, but again, I became terribly frustrated. I really didn’t want [Teacher] to make a big thing out of it again, but my only two choices were to sit there and try to tolerate his garbage or to try [Teacher] again. I figured that at least her last attempt had resulted in SOME kind of change, right? So, I trudged back over to the podium.

Me: “Ms. [Teacher], I’m sorry, but [Classmate] still won’t let me talk. He’s just changed it from ‘nuts’ to ‘testes’ now.”

Teacher: “[Classmate]!”

Oh, boy. Here we go again.

Teacher: “For your information, girls do not have testes. You cannot punch [My Name] in the testes because she is a girl and does not have testes.”

Classmate: “…okay.”

Teacher: “Now, leave her alone and work on the project, please. This project is not about the reproductive system; it’s about [whatever life science topic; I don’t remember now].”

Classmate: “Okay.”

The matter apparently settled to [Teacher]’s satisfaction, I went back to the table once more. And once more, [Classmate] had tweaked his “witty one-liner”.

Classmate: “Shut up, [My Name], or I’ll punch you in the nnnnnnnnnose.”

Ooh, what fun! A little bait-and-switch twist on “nuts”!

While the “threats” continued, [Classmate] did eventually grow bored with it and periodically let me actually contribute to the project. I imagine this was at least partially because I was a pretty good student (intellectually if not in terms of actually doing the work), so “allowing” me to pitch in meant less work for him in the long run.

This wasn’t the first time I’d had a teacher intervene in a totally unhelpful way (or refuse to intervene at all), but this incident was the last straw. I never asked teachers for help with bullies anymore after that.