A few weeks ago, I finally self-published a book I wrote entitled “Fresh Helen and the Mashed Up, Smashed Up, Messed Up Plane” featuring a character who I hoped might be a vehicle for parents, teachers and kids to use to talk about bullying. I created “Fresh Helen to be viewed as both victim and perpetrator, hoping that we could all come to understand that due to its nature and nuance, bullying can be difficult for us to properly identify or define. Since the book came out, I’ve been asked several times if I was motivated to write the story because of personal experience and my knee jerk response has been, “no.” But after some time to reflect, compelled by those questions, I’ve started to delve into my own memories and behaviors and to take a closer look at the culture around us and, suddenly, I see bullies everywhere.

In November of 7th grade, my family moved. In September, I started at a large junior high school only to have to transfer into a much smaller middle school full of kids who had basically gone to school together since kindergarten. Luckily, I had a neighbor who became my friend, and although I didn’t see her much in school, after school, we hung out together all of the time. After I tried out for cheerleading and made the squad, my after school time became tied up with cheerleading practice and my mission to become part of “The Group,” a self-entitled tribe of girls who ate lunch together, hung out together and represented everything I wanted to be. Luckily, one of them seemed to take a liking to me and eventually I worked my way in, or at least, in enough. I never recall them doing anything mean or intimidating; it was their exclusivity that was the draw, and what a strong draw it was. Slowly, but deliberately, I pulled away from my neighborhood friend to spend all of my time with the girls who were part of “The Group.” I never gave any explanation, never lost a minute’s sleep over it and she never confronted me about my disappearance from her life. Then, on a Friday night ski club trip my sophomore year of high school, I broke my leg. Finally off the mountain and in the medical building of Vernon Valley, I was cold, scared, in pain and waiting for the transfer to the local hospital and eventually home. There, by herself, holding my hand was my neighborhood friend. I’m sure I never thanked her.

My daughter’s own sophomore year was tough for both of us as she slowly started to become someone I didn’t recognize. I’d taught high school sophomores so I knew they were a motley crew of hormones, emotions and angst. But this felt like more. Much more. My bubbly, enthusiastic, happy kid; the one her older brother described as never needing to worry she’d have a heart attack she was so stress free, seemed lonely and morose. And she wouldn’t tell me why. She wouldn’t tell me anything. The things she loved to do the most; dance and the drama club seemed to no longer be a refuge. I begged her to talk to me, to let me know what was going on, but stoically she stayed silent. Her dad and I worried about heartbreak, drugs, teen pregnancy; all of it went through our heads. We could never get her to open up. Finally, a few years after high school, she told us that she had been bullied and was devastated, not only by her bullies, but by the so-called friends who didn’t stand up for her. I learned of nasty notes left on her locker, in voicemails and in texts. I heard about the parties and events in which she was excluded. The worst part was that the source of her pain was a girl that I had actually liked and praised and never would’ve thought could do such things. At the end of their senior year, this girl apologized to my daughter, who, of course, accepted graciously, doing her best to minimize this girl’s feeling of regret. I would not have been so kind. She and I have talked about that time, and I’ve told her how much I regret that I didn’t know, but I also understand why she didn’t talk to me about it. Even now, thinking about it breaks my heart. Even now, although she is happy, beautiful and successful.

Perhaps my experiences as a kid and as a parent did play a role in my decision to write about “Fresh Helen.” But there is a bigger picture, and what is going on in the world today has surely contributed. It’s has been a tough year for everyone. The pandemic has taken the lives of hundreds of thousands, devastated businesses, and left many with lingering health problems. Coupled with the political polarization we’ve all been experiencing, it’s not difficult to see bullies everywhere. Social media is a breeding ground for threats, intimidation, name calling, and lying. Our posts and our responses are seasoned with aggression and a self righteous indignation that we use to make allowances for bad behavior. We bait each other and wait to pounce, imposing our opinions and our will on each other. Our televisions spew out images 24 hours a day of peaceful protests that turn into violence and vandalism. Washington, DC became a war zone complete with armed National Guardsmen. We cling to our own groups and make no allowance for the opinions of others. It seems bullying has no age limit.

And then, just when I can’t take the news anymore, have run out of people to block on social media, and am headed to see if I have any more brownie mix, I realize it’s MONDAY! In a few short hours, I can escape the meanness, the pettiness, the fear, and the rage, and tonight, for two full hours starting at 8:00 PM on ABC, I can escape.

Tonight while my husband rolls his eyes and feigns lack of interest, “The Bachelor” will treat us to two hours of unbridled joy. Taking a break from deeply disturbing dystopian sci-fi, violent and vicious true crime, self indulgent, thrill seeking documentaries or nowhere near as smart, heartwarming or as funny as “Schitt’s Creek” comedies, giddy with anticipation, we will settle onto the couch to feast on whatever “The Bachelor” is serving up. Like all of the shows associated with “Bachelor Nation,” whether we get a new bachelor, bachelorette or group of woulda, coulda, shoulda castoffs coming together in the infamous Mexican beachfront setting of “Bachelor in Paradise,” we know we will be treated to the tears, the drama, the dreadful fashion choices, the awkward dates, the hilarious catchphrases, and the most serious of questions: Is he/she in it for the right reasons?? Mindless, funny, heartwarming, easy.

Or, at least it used to be. Of late, “Bachelor Nation” franchise shows (SPOILER ALERT) seem to be utilizing their partially (?) scripted platform to become more socially conscious by serving its viewers a cocktail of awkward teachable moments about sexual assault, consent, female empowerment, slut shaming, diversity, and this season, bullying, all sprinkled in with the endless cringeworthy toasts, the sloppy and multiple make out sessions, and the marvelous catfights. Although all of those issues are worthy of coverage, these shows in particular seem like rather ironic vehicles for the discussion, and honestly, I’m looking for some guilty pleasure escapism. I couldn’t be more like annoyed. Like, just why? Like stop it. Like, can I like walk you out?

Last week’s episode featured excruciating footage of blatant bullying, perpetrated by the “character” we all know needs to stick around for ratings and conflict for a few weeks. As I watched this group of twenty somethings behave badly while batting lash extensions, fluffing hair extensions and pursing over glossed lips, I thought about my 28 year-old daughter and wondered if when she was a sophomore in high school, watching this together might have served as a launching point to a conversation. Perhaps in the escapism, buried under all the ridiculousness, “Bachelor Nation” might have some redeeming quality? Sooner or later, someone in the house will discover a backbone and feel compelled to tell our bachelor that there is evil-doing afoot. Then, most likely on the dreaded “two on one date,” we will see our princely bachelor dispose of our nasty bully, as he is certainly not looking for a wife capable of such cruelty. She will be left standing alone on some windswept plateau devastated and utterly confused as to how she could have been so misunderstood. And all will be right once again as we all learn what happens to bullies and are free to move on to disastrous home town dates and fantasy suites.

Unfortunately even the best that “Bachelor Nation” can dish up won’t be enough to fight all of the bullies out there but, I’m happy to let them try. So go ahead, “Bachelor Nation,” show us how it’s done. I’ll be tuning in and hoping that tonight is the last night our latest bachelor tolerates this season’s bully, or better yet, the other women stand up to her and let her know that her behavior is unacceptable. In a perfect world, they might also try to find out why she is acting the way she is because as we all know, there is always a backstory, especially on “The Bachelor.”

Perhaps I wrote “Fresh Helen and the Mashed Up, Smashed Up, Messed Up Plane” this year because I had a ton of free time, was bored and trying not to eat those brownies. Or maybe I felt some need to express my frustration at the lack of kindness and willingness to accept differences I see in the world around me right now. Or perhaps, I wanted to give some other little girl the opportunity to talk about bullying or learn that she could always talk to an adult and find help should she become a 15 year old with a broken heart.

What I do know is that I’m not sure how we can educate our kids about bullying and attempt to win that war in our homes and in our classrooms if we can’t win it on our own laptops and through our own very visible actions. Washington, DC looked like a war zone a few weeks ago and our kids and the rest of the world are watching. We need to do better. It doesn’t have to be so hard.

In the words of one of my all time favorites:

“Imagine what our real neighborhoods would be like if each of us offered, as a matter of course, just one kind word to another person.” -Fred Rogers.

“Fresh Helen and The Mashed Up, Smashed Up, Messed Up Plane.” https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fresh-helen-leslie-conway/1137447066?ean=9780578741796