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Bullies at the Pool
We find life’s teachers in unlikely places
Yesterday I was bullied at the public pool.
Well, let me rephrase that: Yesterday my wounded inner child was triggered at the public pool.
In the Splash Zone
While hanging out at the pool in the late afternoon, helping my 6-year-old daughter feel comfortable jumping into the 5-foot “deep end” with her donut-floatie, I was splashed full-on in the face by some boys. They were probably about 10 or 11 years old, large-framed, with hard eyes and loud laughs.
They had been playing nearby, splashing and pushing each other, gradually encroaching into the place where my daughter was trying to jump. As they jockeyed for space along the edge, she cautiously scooted over, side-eyeing them nervously. They laughed and grabbed at each other, ignoring her as she stood there patiently waiting for them to move.
One of them cupped his hands and plunged them into the water, sending a big spray in my direction. Drenched, I yelled out in surprise, “Hey! Careful!”
The largest one turned to me with a smirk. “What, it’s just water, ” he said. “This is a pool where kids play!”
I had expected an apology, and the heat rose up in me. “You splashed me right in the face,” I…
