'I was getting pretty bloody fed up with being pushed around. And was one hundred per cent pretty hacked off with myself for letting it happen.' Malarkey by Keith Gray (Red Fox)


So says John Malarkey, hero of one of the most recent books published on the enduring problem of bullying.

Its inclusion on the longlist for the 2003 Guardian Children's Fiction Prize and the Booktrust Teenage Prize reflects our increasing awareness of the need for strategies which will empower us to challenge possibly the oldest, most pervasive and damaging problem we ever have to face.

Over the years, first as a teacher and, more recently, a teacher trade union official, I have had the misfortune to encounter many varied and infinitely subtle forms of bullying.

Luckily (for me at least) most of these cases have been situations where I was neither the victim nor, I sincerely hope, the perpetrator.

Instead I have been sought out by those who have endured the bullying attentions of others, driven at last to seek help in their desperate attempt to escape from persecution.

Victims often perceive a stigma attached to being the subject of bullying, and this bizarre shift of blame frequently inhibits victims from seeking help: in admitting that they are being bullied, it is somehow an admission of that individual's own failure.

As a teacher or a colleague, there is also a particular sense of powerlessness when we are asked to help someone who is being bullied.

Just how can we help the victim? We can attempt to remove the source of their persecution, sympathise, supply strategies which can help avoid such situations.

But what about the bully – how can they be helped and dissuaded from continuing their anti-social behaviour? If we can move to solve that problem, we shall be much nearer to a society in which bullying is not only unacceptable but also unnecessary.

Hopefully things are beginning to change. Recently we have begun to bring the topic of bullying out into the open. Too often in the past it has been seen as undesirable but inevitable.

For example, older children's literature such as school stories, whilst criticising the bully nevertheless saw the process as essential to character formation – if the victim survived it, it strengthened them, and fitted them for an adult life in which they could withstand even greater adversity.

In reality they probably perpetuated their own unhappy experience by inflicting a degree of bullying on those over whom they felt they had power.

We now recognise that bullying exists in families and workplaces, in adult life as much as in childhood and that we need to know how to deal with it as early as possible in such a way that we are able to emerge from it with an improvement in self esteem that will prevent the situation recurring.

It takes considerable courage to admit that we are being bullied, that we cannot cope alone, and that we need help. Schools and organisations for young people are leading the way in removing the sense of shame felt by those who are bullied.

They are required to formulate positive policies which will inform the ethos of the establishment, promote respect, tolerance and understanding.

As part of this process, the importance of writing fiction and non-fiction about bullying cannot be over emphasised.

It proclaims that bullying is a problem of which we are very aware, which we will no longer accept, and against which we will fight continuously.

To this end, an ever-increasing bank of resources is appearing, offering understanding and advice and suggesting practical solutions.

As a pioneer in the field of providing confidential advice services for children, ChildLine on their website provide simple definitions, accept that bullying of young people comes from adults as well as peers and offer ideas for those who feel they have nowhere else to turn.

They also ask the question 'are you bullying someone?' and acknowledge that, although it doesn't make it right, often bullies do it because they have a problem, and that they can get help too.

In addition to the teaching resources ChildLine have produced for Key Stages 1 and 2, and similar material from educational publishers, there are now a number of excellent non-fiction texts for these ages, from picture books onwards.

Many recommendations can be accessed on the internet, and as well as the books reviewed elsewhere in this issue, the Booktrust website itself, suggests several for different reading ages and interest levels from pre-school to sixth form.

For many victims one of the best solutions is to read about the experiences of others who have overcome similar problems. Factual accounts can be read on the ChildLine website, but even more powerful are the increasing number of novels which consider all aspects of this difficult topic with realism, insight and compassion.

For ten to fifteen year-olds, one particularly interesting and enlightening set of recommendations can be found on the cool-reads website at www.cool-reads.co.uk which are written by reviewers in this age group. The opinions of the intended audience are always cogent, and for an emotive subject such as bullying, this must be particularly true. That selection includes some books which, whilst not overtly about bullying, contain an element which obviously resonated with the individual young reviewer's experience.

To young readers in the twenty-first century what is all-important is the relevance and immediacy of fiction about bullying. Whilst it is interesting (and reassuring) to realise that the same problems formed the subject matter for fiction a hundred years ago and more, we need to know that today's writers are writing about reality, about life here today, and from personal experience.

The tone of Keith Gray's Malarkey is brutal, violent, desperate. It creates an emotionally heightened realism with which teenage readers totally engage. This is how you feel when you're being victimised and have no one to turn to. Roger J. Green, author of Cuckoos, taught for many years in Sheffield primary schools: his knowledge extends not only to the victims of school bullying but also to the blinkered attitudes of adults who allow it to continue unrecognised, unacknowledged and unchallenged.

Michael Coleman prefaces Weirdo's War with the admission, 'I was occasionally bullied. I also saw others being bullied. And, in a small way, I probably did a bit of bullying myself. All this taught me two things. First, bullies don't bother to find out what their victims are like as real people. And second, victims avoid their bullies like the plague!'

As a testament to desirable outcomes, Weirdo's War shows the gradual realisation and understanding about their hostility which develops between the bully and the bullied when they are trapped together in a life-threatening situation. Whilst it would be simplistic to imagine that books such as these will solve the problem finally, they are nevertheless probably the most effective and influential weapons with which we can continue to understand and fight the enduring nightmare of bullying.

Author Bridget Carrington has worked in libraries in London, trained to teach, had a family, written about local history and cookery, and been Deputy Head of an Infant and Nursery School in Norfolk. Since taking early retirement in 2002 she has gained an MA in Children's Literature from the University of Surrey Roehampton and begun to research the early history of writing for young adults in England for a doctorate. She reviews and writes for several publications and a web-based academic site about children's literature.