Someone is always dominant. On occasion I have been in that position, but usually not.

Playing

The dollhouse corner was just large enough for the wooden house and two little girls to play there. When I was in kindergarten boys didn’t play with dolls. There was an area with trucks and blocks, but I was mesmerized, and only interested in the pint-sized doll house / kitchen area of the classroom. Joann Marcus’ curly dark ringlets framed her face making her look like one of the dolls on the shelf.

My Uncle Ben owned a gas station across the street from the Mattel Toy Company in Queens, and would on occasion bring my sisters and me something that was advertised on television. One of those gifts was a Chatty Cathy doll which my sisters and I all shared. Other than that we didn’t really have, or play with dolls in my house.

Rag doll and doll with black face

There isn’t much to do with a baby doll except to pretend that you’re the mother, and that’s what I must have been doing when Joann came into the dollhouse corner. My siblings and I didn’t attend nursery school, and so for me, my first day of kindergarten was my first interaction with other kids my own age. All the children in my neighborhood, played together, but that was mostly outside and we didn’t really play with stuff, we just played. Sometimes I visited my cousins, but we didn’t play. We dressed up and visited. Not much playing ensued, mostly sitting around, eating, and then going home. Given that, I had no experience playing with kids my own age. Joann wanted my doll. She didn’t ask to share it, or borrow it; she just wanted me to give it to her.

My poor negotiating skills to share and/or compromise with my sisters often resulted in me not getting what I wanted. Laura and I shared a bedroom. She wanted the shade pulled down at night to keep out the glare of the street light just outside our window. I wanted it left up so I could see the sky. My father adjudicated that scenario, and…shade down. My older sister played the piano. I would ask her to play more quietly when I was on the phone, again no. I would usually end my conversation, drowned out by the pounding of the keys.

Jill, Susan and the piano – Photo by Julio Mitchel

Undoubtedly that pattern of defeat influenced my behavior, and I was not going to give Joann my doll. Mrs. Friedman intervened to settle the dispute. I don’t remember the outcome, but to avoid further confrontation I do remember abandoning the jewel-like dollhouse corner for the remainder of the year.

An empty dollhouse

Detail of Slaughter’s painting I Grew Up to Hate My Mother

Drinking Tea – Doll made from image of above painting. Created by Annette Corsino and Brenda Maben

Girls bully other girls as a means of control, and to gain power. They may bully others to feel better about themselves, or to punish people they are jealous of. They may be verbally, and or physically abusive, often excluding their intended victim. They may be insecure themselves and will convince others to go along with them, persuading the group to say nothing in defense of the target, thereby making the victim feel as if everyone is against them.

Big on Top

While I wasn’t bullied by my family, my idiosyncratic behavior often focused attention on me. The question arose, how would it possible to get what I was asking for without my character or personality coming under scrutiny. I am not, and have never been shy, nor do I have the physical characteristics of someone who typically gets bullied, but when, and if a situation becomes uncomfortable I will most often retreat into silence or invisibility. A bully’s intention is to make the victim feel apart from, and alone. I have felt that.