In elementary school, my world felt like a game. Often, a challenging game. It felt like I was constantly trying to survive sneak attacks. Instead of being fun, this game often brought me anxiety. I went from a character experiencing the game’s surprises to a static, motionless object. I felt like a bowling pin waiting to be knocked down by a ball.

The game can sometimes be beautiful, but not from everyone’s perspective.

The corridor of the Faik Konica school in Prishtina was like a bowling lane. At times, walking down that corridor felt like a lifetime. Navigating the school’s corridors and stairs was sometimes more frightening than anything else, not just for me but for many others as well. I was a witness and sometimes also a victim myself.

I constantly encountered arrogant people who humiliated others. They would say things like, “What are you wearing?” “Look at her hair…” “No one loves you.” “Don’t talk nonsense.” “You’ll never achieve anything in life.” These insults were often accompanied by a slap on the back of the neck, completely ignoring the traumatic effects that those words and actions leave on children, on myself, on anyone.

No one seemed to care about the impact of this violence on decision-making, self-confidence and personality development.

My epiphany

Both in the classroom and walking down the corridor, the frustration and irritation with this situation increased. Words like “prevention” and “violence” were often mentioned, but they had almost become meaningless from being repeated so often without any action behind them. 

Usually, after a violent incident in school, there would be three or four days of awareness campaigns that did not yield any significant results. The initiatives undertaken by the teachers, in collaboration with the directorate, were mainly short lectures in the classroom. These were only held two or three times a year.

These lectures became meaningless and left no impression on us. Eventually, students started to see them more as an imposition than a learning experience. The fact that the same phrases were repeated, such as “Be nice to each other,” “Don’t insult people and think twice before you speak” made the lectures boring and ineffective.

There was never anything in these lectures that captured my peers’ attention or made them understand the seriousness of violence and reflect on the seriousness of violence and its unbearable effects. According to a UNICEF report, half of students aged 13-15 worldwide experience peer violence. The report explains that this violence impacts self-confidence, grades and can even lead children to drop out of school. In Kosovo, violence against children is still often seen as a means of discipline.

Eventually, I had enough.

After realizing that the effects of these awareness lectures only lasted three or four days before the violence resumed, I decided to do something. I couldn’t allow school violence to continue in this cycle. To break out, I came up with the idea of ​​giving the lectures myself.

This idea came with many questions: How to gather the students? Will I have support from others? And most importantly, how can I make the lecture engaging and effective?

Full of fear and with very little self-confidence, I entered the principal’s office and explained my idea. I also mentioned using the game of bowling as a way to illustrate violence’s impact. When I saw the supportive expressions on her face and from some of my friends, I realized that I was one step closer to achieving my goal — preventing violence and creating a safe school environment.

Organizing the activity for each class wasn’t easy, but I was very lucky to have a support system. With the director and my friends, we decided to include students from the first to the fifth grade.

I enthusiastically told them that it was time to learn by playing. I made a schedule and gathered each class in the meeting room.

When the hall was full, I explained the game.

Each bowling pin represented the building blocks of the human personality. I named them: self-confidence, mental health, love, empathy and initiative. And the ball, which is thrown towards them, was called “violence.”

I started the activity with a short lecture, where I explained the types of violence. Then, as a group, we started throwing a ball, which symbolized violence, towards the bowling pins. We knocked down all the bowling pins with the ball. We saw that even with a small shot, self-confidence, mental health and love could be knocked down easily. It was a demonstration of how violence, regardless of its scale, causes great and lasting damage to the human psyche.

We began to see that violence is no joke.

Perseverance

The violence continued. The initiative was ridiculed by the students themselves, whether they were bullies or victims. Insults were thrown such as “What you did was too unrelated,” “Liza, don’t try to become someone,” and “Nobody cares what you have to say.”

I was determined and did not give up, but there were times when I returned home with tears in my eyes. There were plenty of days when I thought it was all for nothing. However, my family and friends encouraged me. I continued, class after class.

After a while, the consistent efforts were noticed by the school and the students. These activities, as well as others, encouraged a culture of sustainable action against violence, where the whole school — the students, the directorate and the staff — joined together. Mechanisms were established for reporting, addressing and preventing violence at school. After a few months, the school began to transform into a place with less violence. I started to feel and experience the change.

Violence was systematically addressed through campaigns, lectures and other comprehensive activities.

In the last months at school, I felt that the corridor, once filled with insults and bullies, has turned into what it should be — a place for socializing. Near the end of the school year, I spent my days fully experiencing the school, because it was finally becoming the school every child deserves. The school and the director’s office became an open place, where students were listened to and where their struggles had value.

The school had begun to become the place where the bowling ball, initially a symbol of violence, represents kindness, care, empathy, self-confidence, initiative and love.

Feature Image: K2.0.