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Dear Mrs. Bluth,

Can you please read my letter and see if you can help me? I know you don’t get a lot of letters from fifteen-year-old girls, but I have seen some from time to time and know that you have helped them sort out their problems even if you had to get involved yourself. Please help me too, as I can’t handle my pain alone anymore.


Two years ago we moved away from our home in Detroit and moved to the suburbs on Long Island. I begged to live with my aunt and uncle and their family so I could stay in my school and remain with my friends, but my parents wouldn’t hear of it. I cried bitter tears and finally realized that I would not win this battle and I left with a heavy heart.

My mom tried to comfort me by saying I would make new friends and have a great time in the new school I was enrolled in along with my other siblings who were just as frightened and sad as I was, but we had to try to work through it.

So, I started junior high school as the only new girl, tasked with trying to find my place amongst girls who have been together in the same classes since Pre-1A. I had problems from the first day. No one wanted to talk to me, but whispered behind my back. The teacher sat me behind a girl that obviously had some mental issues, as she constantly turned around and took things off my desk without asking. This went on for three or four days before I had the courage to talk to the teacher and asked her to move my seat. The teacher told me that I have to be tolerant of her because she has issues and I should try to be more friendly with her. Next to this girl and her taking my stuff, the other girls kept their distance from me because the girls said I was a liar and made up stories about her to get her into trouble. They all banded around her and I was the outcast.

I was so miserable and even when I begged my mother to let me go back to Detroit to my old school and friends, my mom said I wasn’t a baby anymore and that I should try to blend in. But things got even worse. Girls broke into my locker and stole things from me. Of course, no one believed me, after all I was the new girl who was the trouble maker. I got called into the principal’s office and hoped for some pity and help, but all I got was a lecture on the need to get along.

I’m not going to write about everything they did to hurt me because there was so many incidences, but I can’t take it anymore. I have pulled out my eyelashes, bitten off all my nails and I’ve started thinking about what else I can do to make people understand how terrible each day of my life is. These girls are pure evil and the adults don’t see this. They all think I’m making this up, and each time I complain, they smirk behind my back and make jokes about me.

I cry every day and wish I come down with Covid so I don’t have to go back to school. I’ve also thought of other ways, like running away to Detroit on my own, but I don’t have enough money for a bus ticket and cab fare once I get there. I’ve also thought a lot about just going to sleep and not waking up, but that scares me. I know this is not as important as some of the other problems you hear about, but it is beyond my ability to cope with anymore. Please help me!


Dear Child,

How absolutely devastating to read what you are going through, it is Bbullying in its worst form and I’m so grateful you wrote to me with it. I will certainly do my best to see that this stops immediately. How harsh that not a single adult in this bizarre situation will stand up and try to rectify the situation and alleviate your misery, set these girls who torment you straight and get in touch with their parents to make sure that both home and school are on the same page. It’s high time schools take back the asylum from the inmates and institute a strong code of ‘ve’ahavta lerayacha kamocha.’ I am bitterly disappointed with their handling of this situation.

You asked for my help and you will get it. I will get in touch with the principals of your school and have an in-depth conversation about this issue, and trust me, I do not back down from a challenge. In fact, I’m quite sure you will send me a follow-up letter in a few days just to let me know that your life has taken a turn for the better. I don’t expect those nasty girls to suddenly become great friends, but given a constant reminder by teachers and principals that there will be a price to pay for bad behavior and mean treatment, at least you will be able to finish your schooling in peace.

As for your parents, I would encourage you to leave a copy of this column where they can see it so that they will understand what you’ve been going through and that their disregard is not acceptable. Their job is to protect you and to support and encourage you to live your best life. Hang in there just a bit longer, then, write back to me and let me know if we can be ‘besties.’


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