Evolution of Rome Za

I entered Yeshiva for kindergarden at four and a half years old. Every morning my grandmother would walk me two blocks to the bus stop. She would also pick me up from the bus stop every afternoon. So every morning and every afternoon I was safe from all harm. In between those 2 points was a completely different story.

The kids in my Yeshiva were animals. It was like juvenile hall for young school age Jewish boys. There were breaks between every class. During every break there was a lot of fights. I did not have a problem with participating because the kids were my age. My real issue was the bullying on the cheese bus. I was one of the youngest kids on that bus, so basically, I was a prime target.

The welcome to the cheese bus was rough. The beatings were short and brutal. They were also very demoralizing. I was one of the scrappier kids in my grade, but as soon as I stepped on that school bus it felt as if I was on the bottom of the food chain. All the fourth and fifth graders would boost their ego picking on the kindergartners. It was disgusting. They would hold us down and fart on us, spit on us, slap us around, and when we fought back, the beating just got more serious.

One day, this kid in the fifth grade named Boris held me down with his buddy and proceeded to fart on me and stuff my face under the seats. Every other day that he picked on me, I fought back. Usually, he would slap me in my face or do some type of professional wrestling move on me, but that day was different. He had a sort of intensity in his face. As soon as I fought back he proceeded to beat the ever living shit out of me. That was the first time I cried on that school bus.

As soon as I got off, my grandmother saw me in tears. She ran up to me right away and thinking quickly she figured out why the bully was laughing. The forecast promised rain that day, so my grandmother had her umbrella with her. She started hitting him with the umbrella and any other kid that she thought was bullying me.
Like any other young Jewish boy he started screaming that he is calling a lawyer with an attempt to scare her away.

All of this happened on a Thursday. Since it was Yeshiva, there was no school on Fridays. That gave me a weekend to lick my wounds and get a moral boost from my family. Especially my father who decided on going there and handling my problems for me. I quickly said no please don’t go. I didn’t want my father beating up a 5th grader, so I promised I will stick up for myself even better.

The following Monday was judgement day. I knew he would pick on me, and I was ready! He didn’t make it on the morning bus. I felt a bit relieved that the encounter wouldn’t happen that day. When I got on the cheese bus that afternoon my heart dropped. I was totally terrified of what was about to happen. As soon as the bus took off he walked over to my big leather chair. He made sure to tell me that my grandmother wasn’t there to help me. At that point I was already shitting bricks. He called over his buddies and they started trying to hold me down so the others can slap me around. They were trying to get me fired up just to show me I can’t do anything.

As soon as they started holding me down, I jumped on the bully (Boris) and I dug my nails into his face. I started trying to dig out chunks of his face. Every time he would punch me I would grab his hand and bite into it. His friend just stood there shocked. Boris was all bloodied up and I wasn’t planning on stopping. I wasn’t stopping because I wanted to teach him a lesson. I wanted him to know that not every target would be easy for him to pick on. I wanted him to understand the embarrassment I felt that Thursday afternoon. This went on for a few minutes. At the end I was a bit bloody and bruised up, but he looked like he got into a fight with a Wolverine. Both of our white shirts were filthy, but the difference between us was that I left the bus with a smile on my face, while he got off crying hysterically.

I felt like I just conquered a nation. At that moment in time I was the victor and it would stay that way for the rest of my life. He proceeded to come up to my grandmother while crying and told her I am an animal (in the worst sense possible) and that he is pressing charges.

(No charges were actually pressed.)

From that moment on, I never needed a second day to stand up for myself. I also made a promise to myself to not let those around me get bullied. It changed my life. From that moment on, I was not only fighting my own battles but the battles of the people around me. I couldn’t stick around watching people get bullied, innocent people that is.  I cant stand physical abuse. It hurts me to watch the weak being preyed on by the strong. Don’t put up with abuse people! Learn some self defense. Come check us out at http://www.clockworkbjj.com

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