When I was in the early grades in a two room school, with multiple grades in each, I was bullied to the point of terror by a few of the bigger and older kids. I would often come home crying and I still remember my older brother teaching me how to box on our kitchen floor. I learned fast and I grew fast and strong enough to beat the crap out of my tormentors. Perhaps I became a bully then myself because I fancied myself as a bit of a vigilante who would not only step in to defend others but also torment and intimidate those whom I considered to be bullies. By the time I reached my teens I seldom had to fight and I would walk away if I could at all, but both my peers and myself knew I was no coward.