How Many Have Been in a Fight? (Part Three)

How Many Have Been in a Fight? (Part Three)

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My daughter said that “90% of fights” in high school are girl against girl. Anyone out there who can attest to that? Are the girls nowadays ready to rumble?

With the flood of video cameras that are ubiquitous, we have to step back and wonder if the increasing number of fights may be incentivized by Youtube. How much acting out is because people are standing around filming?

It’s been pretty much expected that whenever a fight occurs the people nearby will rush over and watch. There is always a public display aspect to it. Now, though, Youtube adds a new dimension. These videos may get millions of views. Suddenly the fighters are stars, celebrities. Is this driving kids to be more violent?

A video search just turned up 371 million hits for girl fights at high school. Is this an epidemic, and who is keeping statistics on the number of violent incidents out there?

Well back to my own tale of woe. To recap: I walk out of drafting class on the third floor of Don Bosco Tech, in Paterson New Jersey. It’s early morning, and I’m feeling good about life. Drafting is difficult, and my artistic skills are to be improved for sure. But, I was starting to get it, and so life was bearable for a while. The bell rings, and everyone pours out into the wide hallway where a quick right turn leads to a wide staircase.

Only, suddenly I’m jarred from a shot in the middle of my back, and flying through the air down the stairs. With blind luck I managed to grab at the side rail, and on the second grab I caught it, bashed into the wall and railing. Up the stairs, behind me are two relative strangers.

The quiet, smirking one, Frank was a compact but very strong muscle head. His sidekick, his Robin, is taller, dumb and laughing down at me. I figured what had happened instantly, but I also figured incorrectly. It was Frank that shoved me, and Bob was yucking it up at my expense. I’d never said two words to either of them in a year and a half.

Regaining my composure I stepped back up toward the two of them. Bob was the obvious target, as he was laughing in his goofy version of a mocking crow. Frank had that serial killer vibe that I just naturally avoided unthinkingly. I challenged Bob to a fight after school.

The fight went sort of awkwardly, no clear winner or loser. At least I didn’t get hurt.

The next morning I have to sit down with Father Mike, a pale, very white knob who really did see himself as above pretty much everyone else on the campus. So I told the truth. I was pushed down the stairs. What about that? Then I was beat on somewhat, after that by one of the perpetrators. What the fuck else does he want from me?

A Saturday detention, of course. So I emerge from this grave miscarriage of justice, back out of the office to see Bob there. And he threatens me over this Saturday detention thing. We’re both getting the same treatment, and we have to show up Saturday, probably the only two in a deserted building complex.

He threatened to mess me up this time, owing to his getting nailed.

It felt a bit like what this girl is going through:


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