Walter and Me

Walter Magnene. Here’s a name I have kept in front of me for over thirty years. I have not talked to Walter or even seen him over that same period. In fact, I am not even sure how to spell his last name. Yet I keep his name in front of me because of that lesson I learned so long ago.

I was in grade five, and Walter was in grade seven. Walter had low confidence and was bullied and picked on by his classmates. Walter’s school life was difficult and gloomy. It was not surprising that Walter tended to lash out on occasion. Since Walter and I took the same route to school, I tended to be the target for Walter whenever he needed to blow off steam. Lucky for me I was fast on my feet and Walter could never catch me. This routine became our norm. Eventually we both forgot what had spawned the original conflict, it was just what we did.

While I had started out as an innocent victim who was being picked on by an older, bigger boy, I now had anger issues of my own. I became an annoying, fleet footed, smart aleck who would unload a verbal barrage at Walter before speeding off into the horizon and leaving him in a cloud of dust. Picture Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner. Such is the cycle of bullying.

I remember the day our situation changed forever. It was Spring, and I had brought some of my model airplanes to school for show and tell. School had finished, and I was playing in the playground with some of my friends before heading for home. I had just decided to call it a day. I bent over to pick up my bag of model airplanes, stood up, and found myself looking straight into the chest of my arch nemesis - Walter Magnene. The same Walter Magnene that I had dubbed Walter Maggot the week before. Time stood still. A soft breeze rustled through the leaves of nearby trees. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. While my body fought to control my bladder, my mouth took on a life of its own, and I heard myself say, “ Hi Walter! We’re just leaving to play at my house, would you like to come?” I waited for the inevitable pain to arrive via his grade seven fist while my mouth continued to independently take matters into its own hands by pasting the biggest, friendliest smile across its lips. Walter looked me in the eyes, blinked twice and replied, “Sorry I can’t make it, but thank you for the invitation.” ** And then he walked away. Other than inducing a state of euphoria that caused me to forget my model airplanes in the sandbox and lose them forever, I had come out of the incident unscathed. While Walter and I never became friends, our conflict was over forever.

My point? I was involved with a conflict for so long that rather than look for a solution, I just accepted it as the norm and adapted a strategy that was reactive as opposed to reflective. This strategy not only didn’t alleviate the situation but exasperated it. However, when our situation became explosive, the incident, and in fact the entire conflict, was resolved with dialogue. Beyond the total eradication of your enemy and all his allies, this is the only way any conflict can be resolved.

I think our world leaders could learn a lot from Walter and me.

** I am 99% certain that these were his exact words. I remember thinking at the time - “What grade seven kid talks like that? No wonder he gets picked on.”

"Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we."
- George W. Bush (b 1946)