I once had the reputation of a terrible bully.My parents are from fifty to fifty-third year of the past, XX century, worked in a little, then a district, the Ukrainian city of Cherkassy on the banks of the Dnieper River just below the Kiev.Mom taught the history of the CPSU (b) at the Pedagogical Institute, and my father was a teacher of history and geography in high school.I was once in the third grade (when I was in Moscow) came to us a real music teacher, violin.I sat at the desk and the fourth violin seen only from afar.But I was fascinated by the violin teacher limping.He played this violin.I could not then assume, as he gave us did not explain how to arrange everything in the violin, he only played us great music and rehearsed the songs with us.I was then unaware that on the bow taut horsehair.I thought that the bow - it is nailed to a stick with a long plastic plate indent, so they touched the string.But the bow with "indent" I have not only satisfied, but also fascinated.In Moscow, in the 950, I
school locally.He took me back to the trial;To his surprise, they accepted me, and I stood there not be the last student.Then, when I learned that on the bow - horsehair, not a plastic plate with indent.And my teacher violin James L. Jani went with my parents and me to a local shop of musical instruments to choose skripkupolovinku.Factory, not the master ... But still, my happiness was almost immeasurable;it is marred only by the fact that parents do not have enough money in the case.And my mother sewed for my violin cheholchik flannel.You will understand why I have written in detail about this.Flannel is not well separated from the street by a fragile defenseless tool.The boy with a violin - it irritated boyish freemen.Yes, and the girl Tanya aka Peach back together all the time with me from the music school.It is also annoying.And I was periodically beaten.The feeling of righteous anger over me.But more than his honor, I feared for the violin.And when they began to beat him, I was blocking my violin with his whole being and the whole low-power biomass.Well, beaten and left, but the violin is intact, and I once again embarrassed cheholchika, was to accompany TanyuPersik.A wire, encountered again on the detachments of bodyguards Yakovenko shket-pound head scars, repetition, Losers, who sometimes passed on cola.And once I "quietly" put down the violin - whether it would be - and moved to the detachments.I have not seen anyone from the squad.I saw his narrowed consciousness only Yakovenko.Druzhki parted.I said:
- Styknemsya?- My voice was shaking ...
Styknutsya - is to Yakovenko was a matter of habit.But with the younger.I was a classmate.A Yakovenko was repetition.However, we had the weight category are the same.To honor Yakovenko, he was not a coward - well how: On the cropped head were many large and smaller scars - a kind of "Medal of Honor".The then "skinheads" forcibly sheared school barbers, and it was not uniform, and "sanitary norm."Only we, intelligent boy with a violin and music scores folders, teachers were allowed to tiddly bangs are an object of envy.Styknutsya - that meant kids were out of the team did not dare to have to beat.Styknutsya - a duel.This should be on an equal footing.Yakovenko became a standard position.But I've worked unconventionally - from such an experience?Coming close - eye to eye, I chtot hissed, do not seem ready to beat.I already knew that the frail Field Marshal Suvorov talked about speed and onset, and poet;I did not wave their arms and legs and, clenching his fists, vnezapm put them under the chin reptile.The elbows closer together at the bottom.And, in point of all of SWAT forces weak their hands two fists struck down Yakovenko.And then I beat his feet where necessary.I do not know how many shramovmedaley added to his shaven head but the bruises on his "hare" was a lot.And it opened a whole school case on hooliganism fourth grade student.We called the parents.And what about this: a mother teach history at the college, his father - a teacher at the school istorsh and raised bully.
hardest thing I had to explain to my mom and dad.I said that if I even touched, I'll kill Yakovenko.Of course, now I would not have asked the court to even put this boy in the story I just gave all the emotions, which are then tested, but the parents just in case I was transferred to another school.And it happened a similar story.Fifth grade.There was a thunderstorm classmates repetition Semenchenko.Delot was with Ukraine.So - Semenchenko.He had ringworm on the head.And he did so: held his hand over his and immediately deprive the head and face (Dada, and face) kakogonibud boy.As a result, many of them also appeared ringworm.Parents and teachers did not notice, or at least silent.To me Semenchenko the time did not come.But my happiness did not last long.Approached.And made his signature gesture - ran his hand over his head ... But did not have time on my head ... I had previously decided not damsya.Again, standard solution (now, maybe it is standard, but then I came up with it himself suddenly).I stepped on his foot and pushed him with both his fingers through his chest.He fell.And again, beating a bully Egides Arkasha - on the head from blows my heels was difficult to understand where he ringworms, and where bruising.I had to translate the bully Egides in parallel fifth grade.Now I understand that Semenchenko asserted himself so it was overcompensation: ugly, backward, with ringworm, unhappy.Teachers would have to feel sorry for him, to do something good, of course, in addition to the treatment for it.But then I was also unhappy and only happiness was to beat the offender.
And in the sixth grade of the same school had to fight for the right to "shoot", that is to look for an excellent student (and I, too, was an A student, dammit) Alla Lysenko.There are already Russian boy Avdeev from the seventh "B" came up to me and said firmly:
- For Bald - Got you do not shoot?
had to fight - again a duel, but not according to the rules.I was struck with a header - known rowdy reception, no creativity - so simple, one insolence.As a result, my parents were called to the director: take away, say, your bully from school ... But then we moved to Russia in Penza.To say that my position has changed, I can not.All the same.Only worse, because the strikes were more powerful.It was the seventh grade.But my parents, believing Khrushchev left to build socialism in a single farm on Penzenschine, and I went to granny and grandpa in his native Moscow, where he continued to study at a music school, graduated from seventh grade and enrolled in feldsherskoakusherskuyu school, where were all girls, andnumerically small boys were not as pugnacious.
Teaching in the eighties in the pedagogical institutes psychology, I especially became interested in aggression among children and adolescents.Other psychologists and educators for some reason, were more interested in anything: left-handers, short-sightedness, alcoholism, but not conflict.But I have my school life I remember as a constant struggle for dignity, which flouted the older guys, and because this topic is close to me.And when talking about hazing in the army, I understand, as we have seen by the example of my misadventures that