I was on the track team in middle school. While I loved running, I simply wasn't very fast or very coordinated. I found my place in the high jump. Shutup. I realize I'm 5'3". It was middle school and everyone was short. The high jump was really more like the not-even-remotely-high-jump, modified for us shorties.

At one of the meets, my kickass high jump left the bar wiggling precariously, but intact, indicating a successful jump. My back thudded on the mat, then rolled off onto cut up foam in fishing nets along the outside, then rolled of THAT and proceeded to slam my head against the ground. I lay on the ground seeing stars and relishing my victory against the opposing team until my mother arrived to take me to the doctor. I had a mild concussion and was not allowed to compete for the remainder of the week.

A few weeks earlier, I had been at my friend Debbie's house, and the (much older) boy she was crushing on, "John" had decided I was more his type as he kissed me in her laundry room. Completely shocked and torn between my friendship with Debbie and this new male attention, I didn't act in time and she found out before I could tell her. Her hatred for me was circulated to her other friends and fueled much of the bullying I endured. An apology a few years back was never answered, so I have no idea if she still holds that anger. I hope not, for her sake.

The combination of shame for allowing that boy to ruin my friendship and anger for Debbie becoming the leader of the "We Hate Tracy" brigade gave me plenty reason to avoid her and her croanies at school. The day after my track meet as I was heading to my locker, I realized I had to pass them. I walked quickly with my head up and ignoring them completely until I realized they had circled me.

"I hear you have a concussion!" one of Debbie's (larger) friends said in a mocking voice as she slapped me on the back of the head. "Aww too bad..." she continued to slap me with roaring laughter from the other girls, "...you should really be more careful you little bitch!" she said, giving me one more slap for good measure before releasing me from her grasp and allowing me to move on into the hallways. Looking back it seems like a scene from a John Hughes movie. Perhaps that's why I can relate to his movies so well. Those movies were the stories of my life.

There were other groups who chose to victimize me that way, some for reasons I could see and others simply because they could. Those girls didn't know me inside. They didn't know (nor would they have cared) that I was screaming inside to lash out. That I sometimes though about bringing weapons to school to stop it. They had no idea I often practiced in the mirror how I would defend myself the next time, only to lose my nerve as soon as the bullying began. I don't know if we all grew up or if the last time when I fought back they decided I was no longer an easy target.

As I played with these memories the other day, I felt that old sense of outrage as I realized the same type of bullying is still happening today. The difference is, as the times have changed, so have the outlets for the bullying. And it's not just for middle schoolers anymore.

Bravado is plentiful in the new age of technology. Some send text after text threatening violence or shouting out rumors about their target. Something about the distance and anonymity of the text provides a sense of freedom to say things you would never say to someone's face. And would probably never follow through with, anyway. Social media is the new playground. One can post anything they want, putting their target front and center and naming their transgressions, then watch as the circle of friends gather around with pokes and slaps, each taking their turn.

Some might say blogging has its share of such behavior. In some cases I would agree. However, most blogs, while comments may be moderated, accept comments from anyone, friendly or not. Social media sites limit comments from only 'friends', resulting in a very biased outpouring for the poster.

Thankfully, not everyone chooses to use technology to this end and we have a plethora of amazing writers and artists who fill the interwebz with teh Awesome. And for that, I am so thankful.

I keep thinking about canceling accounts, as I see many doing lately. It just seems like there is so much time taken up and so much emotional turmoil coming from some of the online sources that it makes sense to just eliminate them. But part of me knows they will still be there, whether or not I choose to look at them. And that part of me also knows that the choice to look, and the choice to allow it to affect me are in my hands alone.

So bascially, I have the POWER. And I'm all about using it!

*cue appropriate theme song music*