My early elementary school years were fun and happy. I remember always being eager to be at school. Then we moved. I started a new school. Things seemed well enough at first; but then these two boys (Brian and Eric) in my class began to bully me. Brian and Eric came up with a new name for me– Poochie. They called me this throughout the day–every day. There was no let up. I remember when our class would be out on the playground playing dodge ball and they would yell out loud for no one to let me play. I was humiliated. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. More than anything== I wanted to know why they hated me. What had I done to cause them to pick me to torture? Was it because I was a little chubby? I remembered feeling so desperate to know how to make someone like me. ……….I guess I’m wondering– how do mean people choose who they will bully?