When the Bullied become the Bullies: No Blacks, Asians, Femmes or Fats

By Samuel Leighton-Dore

There exists data to suggest a firm correlation between being the victim and perpetrator of bullying.

A recent study of bullying in JAMA Psychiatry, “Adult Psychiatric Outcomes of Bullying and Being Bullied by Peers in Childhood and Adolescence,” shows conclusive evidence that a bullied child often becomes a bully to someone else.

Kids who are bullied have a higher rate of childhood psychiatric disorders. They are 4.6 times more likely to suffer agoraphobia, 2.7 times more likely to suffer generalised anxiety and 3.1 times more likely to suffer panic disorder, according to the study. And these psychiatric disorders continue as the child reaches young adulthood and occasionally well into their adult lives.

On a personal note, I can certainly (and shamefully) attest to this. As someone who was beaten and berated from as young as five-years-old, it was with shocking ease and lack of moral compass that, at sixteen, I finally sidestepped the name-calling and briefly relished the chance to name-call others.

I’m not proud of it, but sixteen-year-old me felt nothing but an all-encompassing sense of relief at the idea that I’d somehow managed to climb a rung of the social ladder – and I wasn’t about to risk my feeble foot-holding to reach down and help others join me.

It’s a concerning trend now being reflected in the ways members of our community communicate with one-another online – in how we so readily compartmentalise each other based on weight, race and mannerisms, using the subsequent sub-categorisation as leverage for prejudice, discrimination and bullying. When those who have copped the brunt of divisiveness their entire lives begin redirecting that same behaviour and language at others like them, you know we’re in trouble.

How ironic that too many of us would gladly attend an equality rally – chanting proudly with banners and rainbow flags – while simultaneously typing “soz, no blacks” into our online dating profiles. Are we really so forgetful, so unable to remember that – not too long ago – society as a whole was like “soz, no fags”?

Whether or not someone prefers to sleep with circumcised masculine Caucasian men or uncircumcised effeminate Asian men shouldn’t be a bio-line or conversational response, and to sit back and allow for such behaviour to continue is quite simply to participate in the casualisation of racism and bullying within a community known for it’s inclusiveness.

Only recently Indigenous Australian man Dustin Mangatjay McGregor began sharing screenshots of the racial abuse he was facing regularly on Grindr.

Speaking to SBS, he said:

“The line ‘no rice or spice’ is a common quote on people’s profile description and I’m regularly calling people out on Grindr for promoting these comments. I’ve also noticed that the people who say these things are usually white men, and while I think it’s perfectly acceptable to be more attracted to people of a certain racial background, voicing your preferences using offensive language is not.”

But this behaviours isn’t restricted to gross displays of racial abuse on dating apps. The bullying within the LGBTIQ community leaks into the many intersectionalities that come with identifying as queer, with complicated tensions between the transgender and drag queen communities simmering to the media’s attention recently.

Sure, it can occasionally feel a little crowded under the ever-expanding queer umbrella – and it’s probably normal that certain conflicts and disagreements will arise over time. We’re still fucking human. But aren’t we all fighting for the same thing? Don’t we all want the freedom and respect that should come with being our own authentic selves? Surely it’s important that once we have our freedom, once we have our respect, we don’t forget that others mightn’t yet enjoy it in the same capacity. We can’t go from being the oppressed to being the oppressors. It contradicts the very premise of both our community’s history and future.

If I could go back in time and speak to my sixteen-year-old self, I’d say: Remember how shit it felt to have the whole World against you? Yeah, you remember. It’s impossible to forget. Now, are you smart enough to know when something you say or do is going to make someone else feel shit? Of course you fucking are. Great. So don’t say or do things that make others few shit.

Simple? I know.