An inspiring story of tragedy and triumph for a bullied boy coming of age and discovering his place in the world.
A poignant account of finding oneâs worth and a higher calling.
Young Josiah is a boy who is curious and smart, yet he feels different from other kids as if he doesnât belong or fit in anywhere. Throughout his early school years, physical and emotional bullying takes a toll on young Josiah, reshaping his childhood into one of fear, loneliness, and withdrawal. But when a few special people give him a sense of self-importance and self-worth, Josiahâs life takes a turn to a higher calling. Author Jason Potter brings an inspiring and impactful story of overcoming trauma to young adult readers, showing that all lives are equally valuable and are determined not by others but by something much greater than themselves.
Josiah is a masterfully written and moving story relatable to so many young adults either witnessing or experiencing traumatic bullying, an increasingly common and unfortunate occurrence in todayâs landscape. A psychotherapist and chaplain, Potter hopes his story, based loosely on his own experiences, inspires hope for those who are bullied, ostracized, or feel other.
An inspiring story of tragedy and triumph for a bullied boy coming of age and discovering his place in the world.
A poignant account of finding oneâs worth and a higher calling.
Young Josiah is a boy who is curious and smart, yet he feels different from other kids as if he doesnât belong or fit in anywhere. Throughout his early school years, physical and emotional bullying takes a toll on young Josiah, reshaping his childhood into one of fear, loneliness, and withdrawal. But when a few special people give him a sense of self-importance and self-worth, Josiahâs life takes a turn to a higher calling. Author Jason Potter brings an inspiring and impactful story of overcoming trauma to young adult readers, showing that all lives are equally valuable and are determined not by others but by something much greater than themselves.
Josiah is a masterfully written and moving story relatable to so many young adults either witnessing or experiencing traumatic bullying, an increasingly common and unfortunate occurrence in todayâs landscape. A psychotherapist and chaplain, Potter hopes his story, based loosely on his own experiences, inspires hope for those who are bullied, ostracized, or feel other.
It was an overcast day, the wet and cold atmosphere making it one of those dreary days that seem like they will never end. Most of the students had stopped listening to Mrs. West already; we were just waiting for the lunch period. Â
Finally, the bell sounded, and the whole class rushed out the door. The wind made me shiver as I made my way out of the classroom and headed towards the canteen for lunch.Â
Buying lunch was a rare privilege during those days. Mum usually packed me a frozen Vegemite-and-cheese sandwich that would be made a few weeks in advance. Sheâd give it to me every day straight out of the freezer, and it would thaw in my lunchbox every morning. But today was one of those special days when Mum had run out of sandwiches and had a few spare coins so I could buy lunch at school.
The canteen was on the other side of the school from our grade-six classroom, so the lucky ones among us started to head towards the canteen. It was also where cola-flavoured Sunny Boys and all the lollies that we could afford awaited us.Â
As I took my usual shortcut to the canteen, right between the admin building and the library, I felt two hands grab me from behind. They pinned my arms behind my back and held on tight while someone roped something around my neck.Â
I kicked my left leg backwards and tried to free my arms, but their hold wouldnât loosen up. A sinking feeling of panic swirled in my stomach, swimming through my veins, muscles, and right up my throat, where a wire was being tightened dangerously. The utter panic and fear made me freeze up and locked my body in place. I could hear their loud, taunting laughter in my ears as I began to thrash my arms back and forth in a fight to save myself.
This event and others just like it left me frightened and fearful, and while my story begins as a young child, these attacks, when I was a target for others, could have defined my life if I let them!
Chapter 1
In the Beginning
I was born in 1972 in Port Lincoln, a small country town on the coast of South Australia. My father worked for the South Australian government, giving support and advice to local farmers in the district. My mum worked as a nurse before I was born, but once I came along, she looked after our home and helped other families in our community as well. Every Sunday, we would head off to church, where Mum and Dad were often involved, helping run the service, providing morning tea or lunch as well.Â
My fatherâs job required him to move to a different town every year or two, so my family moved around a lot in those early years. My mum grew up in a rural town in South Australia, while my dad was born and raised in Adelaideâa city boy who loved the outdoors. He grew up in a conservative family with parents who loved him but were very strict. On the other hand, my mum had parents who were separated, so she was mainly raised by her sister and her dad.
My story begins with some of my earliest memories. From a very young age, I learned by trying something out first and thinking about what might happen afterwards.Â
One of my earliest memories is a great example of exactly this kind of thinking. Our family had a thin, brown bookcase that leaned against the wall of the lounge room. All I remember thinking was, I wonder if I could climb that?
I waddled over to it, reached up with my right hand, and began to climb it. I put my left hand on the same shelf as my right hand and then lifted my right leg off the ground and began to climb. As I lifted my left leg off the ground, I felt the bookcase wobble a bit, and I remember feeling nervous for a second, but I pressed on. It was a stretch to get from the bottom shelf to the next one, but I was determined, and I went through the same steps, right hand on the next shelf, then left hand, right leg up, and then left leg.
I put my left leg up onto the next shelf, and I just froze. The bookcase was moving! I looked up and could see the top of the bookcase slowly moving away from the wall. The bookcase gathered speed, and the books began to fall out of the shelves as I headed backwards towards the floor. There was a tremendous crash, and I landed flat on my back with books everywhere and the bookcase on top of me, trapping me underneath. I yelled and yelled and yelled, but it seemed like ages before Mum found me. She came running into the lounge room, lifted up the bookcase, pulled me out in one quick movement, and gave me a huge hug.Â
âAre you okay? Are you hurt?â she asked.Â
I couldnât really speak. I was shaking all over; I got such a fright. Mum just held me until I calmed down and began to relax.
A couple of years later, our family moved to Mount Gambier, a rural town in South Australia. Mount Gambier was like many towns in the mid-1970s, with a thriving agricultural industry that supported its economy, as well as a couple of tourist attractions, the most famous being a blue lake and some incredible caves. My parents packed up all our belongings into tea chests at our old house on the coast, the mover packed the truck, and off we went for the three-hour drive to our new hometown.
When we arrived at the new house, my younger brother Matt and I were left to explore the garage and the yard while the movers unpacked our belongings from their truck. As I looked around the new house and checked it out, I decided I did not like it. In fact, I was very unimpressed. I hated this new house, and I wanted to go back to the old one.Â
I waited and watched till my tricycle was unpacked. I called Matt over. âI canât stand this place,â I said to him. âLetâs get out of here and go back to our old house.â Matt didnât really talk much, but he didnât argue when I picked him up and put him on back half of the tricycle seat.
The gate at the end of the driveway was open, so I rode to the end of the driveway with Matt holding on tight and turned left to go back to the old house we just came from. What I didnât find out till much later was we were heading off in the wrong direction!
I had no idea how long this would take, but I was certain my parents had made a terrible mistake, and if we headed back to the old house, they would change their mind and come too. I rode the tricycle to the end of the street and turned right to go back the way I thought we had come. The footpath was all grass, so I rode on the road because I couldnât turn the pedals on the grass with Matt on the back; the wheels sank into the dirt too much. The white line in the middle of the road seemed to go in the right direction, so I headed towards it to follow it back to our old house.Â
By the time Mum and Dad noticed we werenât around, we were well out of sight. I think they were so busy organising all the furniture and boxes, we left without them spotting us.Â
Dad told me later that he and Mum came outside to find us and see if Matt and I wanted any morning tea, only to find that we were gone. Mum and Dad looked around the front and back yards, down the driveway and into the street, but we were nowhere to be seen. So, they jumped in their car and began searching.Â
I was determined to get back to our old place. So, on we went, following the white lines straight down the middle of the road. A car went past and honked the horn. I didnât wave, though. I was worried what would happen if I took my hand off the handlebars. I didnât want to fall off with Matt on the back of the tricycle. Another car came up fast and then slowed down as it went past us. The road we were on had gutters now and a footpath on the side, but I was only interested in following the white lines. A couple of people called out to us, but I ignored them and kept going.Â
Suddenly, a car drove right up to us and stopped right next to our tricycle. The door opened, and out jumped Dad from the driverâs seat. He looked very upset. He didnât say anything; he just opened the back door, picked me and Matt up off our tricycle, and plonked us on the back seat of the car. Mum was sitting in the passenger seat and looked like she had been crying. She looked around and asked me, âWhat were you doing?âÂ
âGoing back to our old house,â I said. It seemed to me to be the most obvious thing in the world. Why else would we be riding back where we came from? By this time, Dad had put the tricycle in the boot and was getting into the driverâs seat. He patted Mum on the shoulder and looked around at us.
âWhat on earth were you doing riding in the middle of the road?â he thundered.Â
âI was following the white lines back to our old house,â I stammered, as my confidence began to ebb away. Dad turned around and mumbled something to Mum I couldnât hear, started the car, and began to drive us back to our new house. I think I freaked them out pretty good.
In Jason Potterâs Josiah, the protagonist of the same name is being bullied and tortured in school. In spite of having a loving family and parents, Josiah found it extremely difficult to adjust to school. Sometimes it was the teachers, sometimes his fellow classmates, someone or the other seemed to put unnecessary hurdles on his way. But Josiah never gave up nor allowed those incidents to define his life. It is this optimism that shines throughout the story.
Written in a simple and straightforward way, and in first-person narration, this is a story essentially about how a child navigates and makes sense of his surroundings and finally discovers his true self.
What makes Josiah stand apart is its honest narration. The emotions that Josiah goes through are acknowledged in every step. It is this portrayal of both the good and bad feelings that make this story unique.
Even though there are things that are great about this book, there are certain aspects that need a little attention. The entire story lacks vivid description. For instance, there is a scenario in the book where the narrator says that his parents were worried when they could not find his brother and him in the backyard. Here instead of saying that in plain words the narrator could have described his parentsâ actions in words and could have portrayed a more vivid image. Similar to this there are various instances in the story which provides a simple description instead of a detailed narration.
Throughout the story, we as readers get to travel through many cities across Australia, but we rarely get a glimpse of those cities or houses or schools that Josiah lives in or goes to. Even the actions are not described minutely. There has also been a repetition of certain incidents in the book. Showing and not just telling is something the narrator could have adopted.
This story even with its honesty is only partially engaging. This is the kind of story that will probably not stay with the readers for long, only because of its lack of vivid descriptions. But once you look beyond these, there is an uncomplicated story that is honest at heart.
In spite of all its shortcomings, this is a nice one time read for individuals who would like to read something simple yet motivating.Â