Bobby's Blog

Editor’s note: “Bobby Schultz,” my character, did not keep a diary and trying to create one for him over forty years later is problematic, by way of understatement. Although the personal events and exact days will, of course, not match, I shall try to give a reasonable description of what life was like for him then as a severely bullied kid during sixth grade in “St. Matthew's,” a parochial school in Philadelphia. This innovation will match the impetus of “Pride’s Prison,” my short story, in attempting to translate into the written word how he felt at the time.

Of course, personal computers, let alone blogs, were still several years into the future from 1966-67. Nevertheless, I have elected to refer to it as a “blog” in order to give this website a more personal touch and to have a vehicle to update more frequently with usually short entries. I hope it will also give the reader an idea of the flavor and tenor of those times which now seem so very innocent in light of contemporary societal mores. Of course, he never would have aired his feelings in public, so one can view the blog as more a diary for his eyes only.

I shall try to update the blog frequently. When I miss a day in real time, I shall not skip one in the blog’s time. It is intended that the blog will last for the length of Bobby’s sixth grade school year from September, 1966 to June, 1967. The events of “Pride’s Prison” occur shortly after the close of that school year. I shall try to stick as closely as possible to Bobby’s verbiage at the time and shall insert explanatory notes when I feel such are needed for the reader’s benefit. When the blog begins, Bobby is eleven. Not every entry will mention school or bullying, especially the ones on weekends.

Thanks again to all who read here and care about the subject of school bullying.—Don Schneider


-—September 5, 1966, Labor Day:  Summer’s over and school starts tomorrow. I’ve been praying to the Blessed Mother that this year won’t be as bad as last, which was even worse than fourth grade when some of the kids at school started picking on me and making fun of me. Sister Clare Louise was mean too sometimes but at least she was pretty and sang songs and read stories she wrote herself sometimes instead of teaching. We all loved that! I prayed an entire rosary tonight instead of my usual one decade hoping that she will make sixth grade better for me. I get so nervous in school and sometimes so bored that I daydream or sneak reading a Hardy Boys under my desk. I got caught last year sometimes and Sister Clare would slap me and take it from me until the end of the day. The bad kids always laughed.

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