I was a ripe, sitting target for a bully when I entered the fourth grade at Heritage Hill Elementary School in Springdale: I was a shy 9-year-old; my single mother was settling her three kids after abruptly leaving our father and bouncing about in a station wagon.   

In the idyllic world of TV sitcoms, bullying among school-age youth usually entails some name-calling and maybe the exchange of a few punches. The problem is fixed within 30 minutes or an hour, usually with some sage words of wisdom dispensed by an adult. Cue commercial. Bullying in the real world, however, isn’t so easily remedied.