Listen to what kids are saying; their lives may depend on it

Eleven-year-old Marietta Star Colombe died by suicide Feb. 4. Her grief-stricken parents say she was bullied at school.

The Grade 6 student’s drawings illustrate her torment.

In one, she drew herself dead as seven boys and girls applaud and yell “yay!”

In another, she lies buried in a grave as a group of children cheer.

Weeks earlier, after telling her parents about the bullying, her father went to the North End school.

“I (said), ‘My daughter doesn’t like being picked on and being bullied. What are you guys going to do about this?’” Randall Colombe told Global News reporter Melissa Ridgen, who broke the story.

“Nothing was ever done,” he said.

Bullying is a rampant problem in schools. Research by Public Safety Canada found 47 per cent of parents have at least one child who has been a victim of bullying and a third of teenagers report having experienced it.

The only thing that stops bullying is talking about it.

Creating safe environments where kids who are being bullied can share their experiences is the job of every adult who comes into contact with young people.

When a kid speaks, they must be believed — so something can be done.

I know this well.

I was bullied in Grade 6 while in school in Ashern. For months, a boy I’ll call M relentlessly targeted me.

One day I went to the bathroom during class. Big mistake. M entered and waited until I was at the urinal. Then I was put in a choke hold.

“You’re a f—king stupid Indian and everyone hates you,” M hissed into my ear.

I struggled and M slammed me against the concrete wall. “Give me money or I’ll do this every time you come in here,” he said.

I handed him the five bucks I had for lunch.

He laughed. “Actually, I want money every week,” he said, leaving the bathroom.

It was about then I realized there was urine all over my pants.

Taking them off, I washed them the best I could. No matter how much I held them over the hand dryer though, they still had a huge wet spot.

I didn’t know what to do. I had been absent from class for almost half an hour. Sheepishly, I tried to get back to my desk without anyone noticing.

“Look everyone,” M called out the second I got back, “Look who pissed himself.”

The entire class laughed. I was made fun of for weeks.

That was nothing compared to the taunting I got from M, though. It increased and lasted for months. I gave him money a few more times, too.

I dreaded going to school. I faked being sick. My grades dropped, but I didn’t care.

I even skipped hockey practice because M was our team’s goalie.

One day my mother asked what was happening. After much coaxing, I told her.

The next week, I noticed M wasn’t in class.

That’s when six of us were called to the vice-principal’s office. I don’t remember everyone who went but I do remember that I was the only boy.

“I’ve called you all together,” the vice-principal said, “because of M. I understand that he has bullied all of you at some time or another.”

We all looked at one another. I was shocked.

I wasn’t alone. M had done this to others, too.

A week later, M came back to school.

One by one, each of us was asked by the vice-principal if we would listen to what M had to say.

I said yes, not expecting much.

I entered a room with only two desks, with M sitting at one.

I sat down opposite of him.

“I’m very sorry,” M said. “What I did was wrong.”

“OK,” I said, shocked at what I was hearing.

M then pulled out a handful of change and placed it in front of him.

“I’d like you to have this. It’s not enough but it’s what I have.”

I took the money, said nothing more, and left the room.

M may have spoken to me again that year, but I don’t remember. In fact, this is my last memory of him. My family moved away a year later.

Earlier this week, I asked my mother what happened back then. She said that the next morning, after we spoke about how M had bullied me, she went to my school and talked to administrators.

Some didn’t believe her.

“I didn’t care,” she told me. “I kept going until I found someone who would do something.”

It’s not known if the administrators in Marietta’s school – or conflict and mediation staff in the Winnipeg School Division, where the school is located – believed or tried to do anything to stop the bullying.

If they had, though, Marietta might still be alive.

niigaan.sinclair@freepress.mb.ca