Dear Readers,

This is a continuation of my story of having been a target of workplace bullying.  Notice the holding of me accountable.  The ganging up.  The pleasure the bully supporter took at "the dinner table:" the principal's conference table.  I was to have been the meal.   

I once asked why I was not invited to a breakfast honoring counselors.  I’d always, at the two other schools at which I’d worked, been asked if I wanted to go; that at the least.  At this school, I was not included. 

The other two counselors made plans to go.   I found out.  I was baffled.  My “how come I wasn’t included” question led to the previously written about “get things out on the table” meeting.   

That meeting led the very next day to a meeting with the principal, the assistant principal and the two other counselors.   It was evident that much discussion about me had taken place.  Tsk, tsk;  I had been a bad girl.  I'd asked a question. 

He, the principal, sat at the head of the table.  They-the bully supporter and the bystanders-- sat on the other side.  I sat alone. Just like bullied children.  I sat alooooone...... 

My “inflexibility” was addressed at the meeting; my issue with not being invited. My not being a team player.  Again.  It appeared we were to get the same things out—this time on a different table, the principal’s conference table. 

Oh heart, pounding heart!  I love you!  You do not lead me to fear.  You, pounding heart, take me to a place of steely resolve.

"You will NOT treat me this way!" you scream when I am being ganged up on; picked on; held accountable for their ugly and awful acts. 

Thank  you, dear heart.  At least I have you.  They have each other and their cold and dead hearts.

 I took control of that meeting.  I’d already suffered enough at the hands of his “team.”  I stated that issue was “over and done” for me.  I asked each of the women facing me individually, articulately and directly, if it was done for them as well.  I also stated that if that meeting was to be rehashed that I would have union representation present.  I told him I would talk about our future efforts—only. 

Bullying works that way.  My bullies—two really—the principal and his counselor friend—were ready to attack.  The other two--the bystanders--were paralyzed with fear.

God save them.