It Only took One

It all happened because one person spoke up. One person saw another when they were at their lowest and acknowledged them. Just one small gesture is all it took. And it unintentionally caused a ripple effect of awareness that inevitably impacted countless others.

The morning commute to their high school was long. Cera and Saige had to wake up at 0530 to do chores on their farm and load their rural bus by 0620. After picking up the other country kids, their bus stopped at the elementary school in their town. They played with the little kids outside while they waited for the other rural buses to arrive. By 0800, all the junior and senior high school students were loaded on a single bus to be taken to the next town over, where the high school was located.

Cera and Saige always sat in the very front seats. They were twins who were energetic, but quiet. Introverted, but outgoing when needed to be. Halfway between the towns, the bus pulled onto the shoulder, like it did every day. A few minutes later, the two buses from the other town full of elementary students pulled over opposite of them. The two drivers on the high school bus left the older students unattended, trusting them to behave, while they swapped places with the drivers from the other buses so they could all return to their own towns more efficiently. It was during this time that the school bully, Stuart, decided to make his move. Without warning, he grabbed Brody, a petite boy, by the back of the neck and threw him to the floor in the aisle. Before she knew what happened, Cera was out of her seat, standing in the aisle. And the bus was so quiet, she could hear the drivers chatting across the road. Stuart was crouched over Brody, one hand gripping his shirt, the other raised in a fist to hit him again. Frozen in place. And staring at her. So was everyone else. Cera’s heart raced. She didn’t even remember standing up. Let alone if she had said anything.

Stuart sneered, “Go screw yourself.”

Cera saw the terrified look on Brody’s face. It gave her courage to respond, “No thank you.” A collective gasp was audible from the onlookers. Stuart released Brody and stepped over him. Brody scrambled back to his seat and looked out the window. Stuart took a few menacing steps toward Cera. Then he stopped, two steps away. Just out of arm’s length. Cera glanced over her shoulder and saw Saige standing, with her arms folded over her chest. Silently backing her.

Cera felt relief. Although the twins had never been in a true fight before, they matched Stuart in size and strength. If it came down to it, they wouldn’t back down. Cera looked Stuart directly in the eyes and slowly commanded, “Go… sit… down.”

Stuart’s face was flushed. He looked between the girls one more time before stalking back to his seat and plopping into it. The incident was over. Yet no one dared speak. Cera and Saige were still standing, watching everyone else when the drivers boarded. Neither of them spoke either, sensing something was wrong. Once to the school, Saige blocked the aisle, refusing to let anyone off the bus until Cera was through the front doors to notify the principal. Then, during their weekly card night, one of the bus drivers commented to the twins’ grandparents, “When your girls are on the bus, I don’t have to worry about a thing. They just take care of it. Whatever it is.” They were proud. They had always taught Cera and Saige to stand up for themselves and others.

After that, the twins felt empowered to continue standing up when no one else would. Whether it was in defense of an ill-accused teacher or in the face of a truly inappropriate one. They wrote letters of concern to the principal when classroom conduct was questionable. And boycotted lunchroom staff for making inappropriate comments to students. When others were teased, they redirected the aggressor’s attention to them, so the other person could get away. Even when they were severely targeted by coaches, they never backed down.

Then came their last year of high school. Yet again, they were on the bus. This time, loading it to go home at the end of the day. All extracurriculars had been cancelled, so there were several seats where students had to triple up. Cera was next to a window halfway back. When a third person was about to join her seat, she asked to be let out. She didn’t like small spaces. By the time the others let her out and settled back into the seat, Cera was the last person standing. She looked around and saw an eighth-grade boy sitting alone near the front. She smiled and made his way toward him. His name was Jermaine. Cera had known him for a long time. His older brother had graduated two years prior. And his parents were friends of her mom at one point.

“Hey Jermaine!” she greeted enthusiastically. “I’m sitting with you today!” She plopped down beside him before he could answer.

Then the taunting started. Mostly “oohs” and “awes” and kissy noises. Someone chanted, “Germy’s got a girlfriend. Germy’s got a girlfriend.” And someone close by overexaggerated their disgust for Jermaine by gagging while commenting on his body odor. It infuriated Cera! She knew his parents were going through a divorce, which was hard enough to handle. She’d been through it at an early age. Puberty was also hitting him hard. Something else that she had experienced firsthand too. Was still struggling with herself. Neither warranted the mockery he had been enduring.

Like before, Cera didn’t consciously decide to stand. Her body acted on its own. She faced the majority of the bus and announced, “There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with this boy!” She pointed at Jermaine matter-of-factly, dropped back into the seat, and turned to him with a reassuring smile. “How was your day, Jermaine?” she asked, as if nothing had just happened. Jermaine stared, open-mouthed. For the remainder of that year, Cera and Jermaine shared a seat on the bus every morning and every afternoon despite the periodic teasing. Saige was there too. Always in an adjacent seat so she could talk to him too. Jermaine found himself looking forward to it, smiling widely when he saw Cera.

One day, when Cera and Saige were telling him about the Sociology projects they were working on about the things that contributed to people hurting others, Jermaine went quiet. “What’s wrong?” Cera asked.

“I know how they feel.” he admitted softly. Cera looked at Saige. Neither understood what he meant. They waited for him to continue. “No one liked me. They all made fun of me.” He stared at his lap. “I was invisible at home.” He looked up at Cera. “Then you sat by me. You said ‘hi’.” Cera blinked at him. She didn’t know what to say. “It hurt so much, that I actually thought about getting back at them. Or…” His voice trembled. Cera patted his shoulder. They sat in silence for the rest of the ride. Jermaine attended a different school the following year. With a fresh start he found others who accepted him and moved on.

Cera and Saige went on to college where they blossomed socially themselves and always made sure everyone was included. One night, their third year in, they were cooking something in the shared kitchenette on the floor of their dorm. It was about 0100. They couldn’t sleep, like usual. The elevator doors opened and they heard someone stumble down the hall, giggling. It was Aniah. A girl they were friendly with, but not very close to. Her room was the one across the hall from the kitchenette.

“Hey Aniah!” Saige greeted. “You okay?”

Aniah giggled as she tried to hold herself up against her door. She pulled her keys from her pocket and dropped them. After retrieving them, and failing to unlock her door, Cera took them from her to key into her room for her. The girl reeked and mumbled the name of the person who gave her the alcohol and left her alone. Cera and Saige knew him. They helped her climb into her tall bed and left her room so she could sleep it off. Not long after, they heard a loud thud.

“Aniah!” Cera knocked on the door. “Aniah! Can you hear me? Are you okay?” She kept knocking until she heard groaning on the other side. The door was locked. It could only be opened from the inside. “Aniah. Can you open the door? Aniah… Open the door.”

She waited with a hand on the doorknob. As soon as Aniah hit the handle on her side, Cera opened the door cautiously to avoid hitting her. Aniah was slumped against the closet door, groaning. Vomit covered the floor and was splashed up the wall. It was clear that she had slipped in it at least once, trying to get up after initially falling out of her bed. Cera and Saige were concerned that she had hit her head. While asking her questions to gauge how alert she was, the only correct answer she could give was the twins’ names. She didn’t even know her own.

Aniah was picked up and carried to the shower room where Saige cleaned her up while Cera returned to the room to clean it enough for the night. They finished about the same time. Cera went back to the shower room to help carry Aniah back to her room. She held her upright as Saige dressed her. Then they rolled her onto her bed again and tucked rolled blankets and pillows around her like bumpers to prevent her from falling out of bed again. For the remainder of the night, Cera and Saige took turns checking on her every 15-20 minutes. They changed her clothes and the bedding when they found it wet. Even when she became more alert, they kept her keys to keep monitoring her despite being chastised by the building manager for involving a Security Officer in the matter.

Eventually, Aniah’s memory of that night came back to her. She thanked the twins for everything they did, even though they had no obligation to do so. Because of that night… because they cared… Aniah chose to change her major. She became a Substance Abuse Counselor for at-risk youth so she could help others like they helped her.

Small acts of kindness that seem inconsequential to some are life-altering for others. Simply speaking up, acknowledging a person, and being present changed the outcomes for Brody, Jermaine, and Aniah. Not only them, but Cera too, who realized that she could have a positive impact on others in the most unsuspecting ways.