Yeah I caught some serious shit in school. Jr. High specifically. Grades 7,8, and 9 were pretty much hell.
The reason was vague. I guess I just looked like a target. I mean, I was a geek, but I never waved the flag you know?
No one at school knew I played D&D and video games (How soon people forget that *home* video games were considered pretty nerdy back in the day. Arcades were for the cool kids.) or read piles of kookys books or HAD A COMPUTER IN 1984. I kept that shit to myself.
But man, I caught some shit. Random punches to the back of the head in a crowd to grabbing and destroying my property in front of my face. One day in gym class I went to my locker and it was covered in spit. Got into trouble for not changing clothes and refusing to clean it up. Got beat on dozens of times on my walk home from school. I had three paths that I'd walk. One was across the street and through about ten acres of grass and woods. Five minute walk. The other two were walking all the way around the subdivision, about twenty minute walks. The five minute walk got me beat up so you can guess which ones I usually took.
SERIOUS SERIOUS BUSINESS AHEAD -
One day, after school, I was walking to a scout meeting. A kid from school who I knew in general but had little interaction with came up to me and started some shit out of nowhere. His name was Danny Campbell. He sorta started kicking my thighs, aiming at my knees. Said "I'm gonna kick your ass."
I finally lashed out and fought back. This would have been after six years of taking it on the chin from other random pricks. I took my Pac Man lunchbox (Was awesome) and slammed it into his face.
Kid must have been made out of glass. I flattened his nose, breaking it and causing one nostril to split off up the side about half an inch. Knocked out a tooth. Then he fell down and I punched his crotch... More than ten times as hard as I could. Got grabbed by several adults (School employees and parent volunteers) who witnessed what happened.
I got into serious trouble. The official story was that Danny was walking home and I attacked him. I was dragged into the school in front of the Principal and that was what he was told. He took me into his office and I told my story. My parents were brought in at this point. Danny was in the hospital I guess. I remember his face being completely covered in blood from forehead to chin and his screaming.
I don't know what the exchange was between the principal and my parents, but nothing was done to me as punishment. Nothing at home, nothing at school. My parents put me into counseling, which lasted about four months and was preceded by a psych eval.
Of course, it became clear to the counselor very quickly that I wasn't the problem person in the equation. All the testing showed that I was suffering at worst from what nowadays would be called "Oppositional defiant disorder" but back then they called "Chronic insubordinance", which are obviously made up code words for "Doesn't like to be bullied and expects a good reason before he complies." which is totally unacceptable in government schools.
This was also unfortunately when it was discovered that I was "Smart". My mother treated me like a fucking moron and told people that I was "Sensative" and "Special", so finding out that I was... "Smart" fucked up her world view. This started a few years of constant rage from her because my grades were always exactly what you'd expect from a kid who didn't give a fuck what other people thought.
I would get A's in classes that interested me and D's and F's in classes I didn't care about. I would literally get report cards like this-
Art - A+
Science - A+
Math - D
Gym - D-
English - A-
Social Studies - F
And pull off a 2.6 or 2.8 GPA. I got to hear speeches for years about "HE DOESN'T APPLY HIMSELF" and all I really wanted to say in response was "No, he just doesn't give a fuck." Luckily the teachers weren't trying to salvage my academic career and stopped punishing me for sitting quietly and reading a book rather than pay attention to their droning bullshit after a while. Sure, I wasn't obeying THE RULES, but I was usually quieter about it than other kids.
So yeah, public schools fucked me up. Not as much as my parents, but definitely in conjunction. If I had had a safe place outside of the house I'm sure I would have been a hundred times better off in the long run, emotionally.
I'd like to tell ya'll that smashing Danny's face made all the other kids take note and leave me alone, but the whole thing was pushed under the rug in the end and none of the kids ever knew about it, so shit didn't get better until the point where most of the kids who harassed me either dropped out or moved.
Once I got into high school it was a little better. You could join your own little clique and you were fairly safe. I turned into the kid who was in a bunch of groups. Mostly friends with the geeky crowd, but I did cross country track (All the way through) and swim team (Ditto) and wrestling (For one season) and was in choir (Look, had to fill a class spot and there were cool/hot chicks in the choir class alright?)
Worst bit in high school was when I asked to use the bathroom, and I went down and called my girlfriend from the payphone because she was home sick (She was also in a different high school). Just chatted for a few minutes to check in and give her some love. The teacher, Mr. Cummings, decided I had been gone too long and came looking for me. He was an english teacher but he was a muscle asshole bodybuilder type. Ex military. He picked me up off the floor and threw me into the stairwell area, which was enclosed by doors on both levels. Mind you, at the time, I was six-two and around 200 pounds and built like a brick shithouse. But I never would have struck back.
Anyway, he shoved me into the wall from about three feet away, and yanked me back and repeated that about five times while screaming at me and asking me who would believe my story if he just just up and beat the shit out of me. Mentioned that he knew how not to leave a mark. I told him that I was sure his boyfriend appreciated that and he proceeded to punch me in the stomach for what felt like hours. Then he tells me to go back to class. I did that day, but I never went back into that classroom. I would leave the building and go out to my car and read. He passed me with a D.
A few years ago he killed himself. It was mentioned in casual conversation with a bunch of old high school acquaintances. I alienated them with my response. Here's a paraphrase -
Chick - Hey, do you remember Mr. Cummings?
Me - Oh yeah. I hated that guy.
Chick - I guess he killed himself. He was at the school. Went out to the groundskeepers building and started all the lawnmowers up. I guess it didn't work because then he shot himself in the head.
Me - Good.
Chick - ... (Changes topic)
Anyway that was a mouthful. Short story - I CAN RELATE.