'Cobra Kai' and the aftermath of bullies

MY SON TOOK THE ABUSE until the day he snapped.  During most of his primary school years, he was the object of ridicule and bullying from his classmates.  We had moved from Europe to a small town in rural Oklahoma after I served in the military.  My son's experiences in the ruins of the Roman Colosseum and other places did not sit well with those who never saw the other side of the neighboring county.  Combine that with my son's intelligence, loud voice, and being unaccustomed to being around kids his own age, and you have a nasty cocktail that attracts the worst kind of attention.  Because of his unique personality and worldview, he was constantly ostracized by most of his classmates.  He would eat his lunch alone as an outcast.  My wife and I were powerless to help.  It is a very painful feeling when your son feels rejected for being himself.  He took it upon himself to go out for sports (where his bully classmates became his bully teammates); he was bullied in the classroom and in the locker room.  One day, he couldn't take it anymore, and everything changed.
     When it comes to bullies, what can our kids learn from Cobra Kai—the sequel to The Karate Kid franchise?  Quite a bit, actually.  As parents and former victims of bullying, we can learn a lot, too.  We might even find the experience to be therapeutic.
     Before I begin raving about this new series that is now streaming on YouTube Red, allow me to provide some backstory on my personal experience regarding bullying and how I had to deal with the subject in my adult life with my own kids.

Living overseas and avoiding a fight while fighting the enemy

     After I graduated from high school, I enlisted in the US Air Force.  I was a military police officer in the US Air Force Security Forces.  Midway through my career, I was stationed in Europe for ten years.  I ascended to the rank of Technical Sergeant and was placed in charge of an entire shift of Airmen.  I was responsible for the law enforcement operations of two American military bases in Westernmost Germany near Belgium and Luxembourg.  Military police are responsible for more than just military people; there is simply more to the equation.  Military bases are small cities with airstrips full of fighter planes, hospitals, bowling alleys, grocery stores, auto repair centers, department stores, and schools full of children.  The children of military personnel go to school on base and have experiences that are quite similar to American public schools (no, they aren't run by the military as you would believe—those are military schools in the US that are NOT run by the military).  Kids are kids everywhere; some get in fights, some do drugs, and some have real problems both at school and at home.  Suicides, child abuse, drug use, and school violence are commonplace.  As a military police officer and the head of the day shift, I was called out to a number of incidents at the base high school.  One incident in particular has stuck with me—it was over a decade ago, and I remember it like it was yesterday.
     I had received a call from the high school principal.  A student was caught selling drugs in the school parking lot.  When the principal confronted the student, the student physically attacked him and punched him repeatedly in the face and chest.  We detained the boy and began our standard procedures which entailed identifying the child, contacting the parents, and notifying the military parent's First Sergeant.  That last step was crucial—the First Sergeant serves as a link on many fronts in military operations, but also serves as a liaison for family affairs that impact the military.  Immediate family of a military member can live overseas with their parent, but it is a privilege to do so.  Committing a crime (even shoplifting) or fighting in school can result in a cancellation of that privilege.  When this happens, it tears families apart.  The military will not tolerate unruly family—and they shouldn't have to.  The principal role of the US Armed Forces is to protect the nation, and drug-dealing kids erode military readiness.
     I remember standing there behind that family as they stood before my squadron commander (the chief of police) while he informed them they were being split-up.  They listened in disbelief.  The father—a sergeant like me—still had three years left on his overseas commitment; he was to remain at the base until his tour of duty was complete.  His wife and stepson (the offending child) were handed their plane tickets in a formal notice they were to vacate Germany in less than twelve hours.  I felt a pang of remorse for this family, but I had dealt with the child for hours along with his rude stepfather and hostile mother.  Still, a family was being split apart because of behavior.  I refused to allow that to happen to my family.  We had instituted a no-fighting rule for school.  We told our son it didn't matter how badly a kid bullied him, he was not to engage in tit-for-tat behavior.  Find a teacher and report the bullying—that was our motto, and it was the standard of compliance that kept with military regulations for military dependents' behavior, and I'll admit—it sucked.  However, while other families were broken due to bullying and bad behaviors, ours stayed strong and together for a decade on overseas military installations.  Bullies beware:  the military don't care.  After we moved back to the states and assumed civilian status, we never changed our philosophy, because it worked—or so it seemed.  While the stateside schools may appreciate a non-hostile response to bullying, they do not have the same methods or powers in dealing with bullies.  Bullies become bolder every year—or so it would appear.  With no recourse, kids are left to be either victimized (sometimes resorting to deadly force, which is an unacceptable option) or they take a stand for themselves.

Dealing with bullies back home in America

     One night were driving home after a high school football game.   As I drove, my son shared a recent story of bullying with me.  My heart broke, and I remembered my own tormentors from my days in school.
"This is a small town, son," I began.  "This isn't your life for the rest of your life.  One of these days you'll graduate.  I want you to watch what happens to these assholes after graduation."  It was the best advice I could give at the time.  He wiped away tears as I told him about my own experiences with being bullied.  I wanted him to stay strong and persevere.  I knew his days of being bullied were numbered, but in his world, being bullied was a way of life.  Our time overseas had overshadowed my own childhood.
"That's a great story, dad," my son replied, "but it doesn't help me now."  I had never considered just how badly our rules from my military days had restricted my son from defending his own dignity.  He was scapegoated for everything that went wrong with his football team.  The treatment he endured perpetuated his behavior, and he was acting-out in class.  His teachers had begun to view my son as  disruptive and a class clown.  They seemed to ignore the bullying he endured (or they dismissed it as a what do you expect when he acts like a jackass in class?!)  Instead of gaining friends, his bullies amplified their antics.
     One day, our son reached his breaking point.  He was changing clothes after football practice, and a teammate began his daily ritual of teasing.  The bully finally went too far, and eleven years of torment boiled into my son's fist.  He punched his bully so hard, he knocked him to the locker room floor.  The bully tried to stand up, but he was disoriented after the punch.  He stumbled in a drunken circle and in a stunned, cracked voice tried to say you ain't shit.  Unfortunately, my son's enraged outburst and the bully's subsequent stumble/mumble did not go unnoticed by the coach:  my son was given three days of in-school suspension.  Fortunately, my son's enraged outburst and the bully's subsequent stumble/mumble did not go unnoticed by my son's teammates; the bullying came to an abrupt end during my son's junior year.  As the senior year began, he enjoyed newfound status (and friends).  He took it a step farther and stuck up for other bullied kids.  He graduated from high school with friends, and even had made friends with some who had previously bullied him.  My son was never a violent kid, but I believe that single punch changed the fate of his high school career.  I wish it only happened sooner.  I have deep regret for not encouraging my son to stick-up for himself.

Life goes on, and bullies grow-up

     What happens to childhood bullies after the graduation cap comes off?  While some continue to act like jerks, I would like to believe life snuffs out their behaviors and reality kicks their ass.  Most bullies (hopefully) mature and leave their old antics behind.  As a bullied child, the memories run deep of my school days.  The feelings of rejection and torment don't just go away as you enter adulthood.  But, thanks to social media, I have kept tabs on many of my former tormentors.  While nearly all of these jerks finally grew up and made something respectable of themselves, one of them admits to huffing paint with his son in their garage on weekends while cooking meth.  As an added bonus to his degenerate behaviors, he called me a murderer for serving in the military and going to Iraq.  I can safely assume he is beyond redemption and enjoys his own life problems.
     To cope with the memories of my past, I created a group on Facebook for my graduating class.  Though two decades may have passed since we were classmates, we still share stories and connect.  My graduating class numbered in the hundreds.  We don't talk about old rivalries and who-bullied-who, but I encourage dialogue about music, television shows, and other nostalgia from our school days.  My military days taught me that traumatic events should not be ignored, and this group on Facebook helps me cope with my past rather than harboring animosity or malice toward my school and classmates.  Gone are the social cliques and judgments on fashion or how much money our parents make.  We are now parents (and sometimes grandparents) who draw strength from our shared experiences.  We laugh and cry together, and it doesn't matter if we were friends in school or not.  I can honestly say talking to former classmates has made me a better man and has nearly eliminated my own anxieties about my teenage years in high school.

Cobra Kai is therapeutic to watch

The score is tied.  Just run right toward him and punch him in his face.  

You can't lose.  Johnny's final thoughts before getting wrecked.

     I was nine years old in the summer of 1984.  I saw The Karate Kid with my brothers and my uncle.  I remember the audience's roaring reaction when Daniel LaRusso crane-kicked Johnny Lawrence in the face and was declared the winner of the All-Valley Under 18 Karate Tournament.  Everyone in the theater jumped to their feet in triumph with the kid from Newark.  Daniel was every kid who ever felt ostracized and brutalized in high school.  I left the theater that night with a feeling of vindication, but I never made the connection that Daniel had to fight back against the bully in order to stop the torment.  My mom refused to allow us to take a martial arts class (she believed as many mothers did—Karate would encourage us to fight), and I was told to be nice to bullies.  It might be an adult thing to say, but adults do not think the same way kids do.  Kids who bully are animated by jealousy, and it is easier to bully than deal with emotions.  Boys who have crushes on girls may taunt or tease the girls, and boys who are jealous of another boy's brains might beat the smarter child simply for being smart.  As adults, it makes no sense.  But, like I said, it's easier to bully than deal with your feelings.  The Karate Kid went from being a hero's tale and became simply a movie I saw when I was a kid.  I had bullies my entire young life.  This is why Cobra Kai helped me remember and cope with my youth.

All Johnny wanted was to eat in peace, but like

 John Rambo, it wasn't meant to be.

          Johnny Lawrence—the villain and jerk bully who haunted the silver screen in 1984—had become a washed-up, asshole drunk who was circling the same drain since the 1980s.  I smirked at how fate had found him in a rundown apartment in Reseda (hey...didn't Daniel live in Reseda?).  I laughed as he lost his job and drowned his sorrows in beer.  Finally, the bully got his.  I laughed as Johnny grimaced at the LaRusso Luxury Autos billboard.  Daniel was a king, and Johnny was a fool.  Heh.  Bullies get what they deserve.
     Wait a second—what is happening here?  At the end of a typical bully-loser day, old man Johnny struggles to eat a slice of gas station pizza as a group of kids begin to bully a kid?  As a former bully, Johnny tried to pretend it wasn't happening and returned his attention to his pizza.  Alas, the fight landed squarely on Johnny's rustbucket Pontiac, and I found myself silently cheering for the asshole and former champion of the Cobra Kai dojo as he kicked the crap out of a new generation of bullies.

Hey, Yasmine, what color is 

your underwear?

     Like many people I know, I binged the entire first season of the Cobra Kai series with my family.  My adult son (the subject of the story at the top of this blog) cheered as Aisha gave Yasmine a bit of a lift at a beach party.  We were thrilled at how the new series gave new life to the franchise.  As a child of the 1980s, I felt a sense of nostalgia as each episode opened to a classic Poison or RATT tune from my youth.  I admired William Zabka's performance in a role he left over three decades ago.  As the series progressed, Johnny found redemption in his late penance as sensei to the downtrodden and forgotten—the "nerds" of the high school.  These new Cobra Kai students were made of the stuff Johnny would have either tormented or outright ignored in his youth.  Now, as teacher, we find Johnny finding a new way of living with a new sense of purpose (I actually felt pride for Mr. Lawrence as he cleaned the old beer bottles from his apartment and poured himself a wholesome glass of orange juice—the symbolism was not lost on me).  Before I knew it, I had become a little wiser and a bit more mature.  Parents and critics should praise the series for more than the mere nostalgia it conjures with fanboys like me.  Rotten Tomatoes gave the series rave reviews, and it currently enjoys a perfect score of 100% on the entertainment ratings site.

Reflections on my own past

     Cobra Kai demonstrates how all of us can move beyond our past and become better people.  For those of us who experienced bullying (really—who wasn't bullied in their youth?  We saw what Johnny went through at home with his stepfather), we can use the series as a kind of therapy.  I felt in internal sense of forgiveness and hope for those I grew up with who were my enemies.  Matthew 5:44 states "love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you."  That's a tall order to fill, and a rather bitter pill to swallow.  Why forgive those who trespass against you, when you know they'll just see your forgiveness as bait to continue their torment?

The redemption of Johnny Lawrence unfolds before our eyes

in Cobra Kai.  Streaming now on YouTube Red.

     You may not agree with me, but I believe our kids need to learn how to throw a punch just as importantly as they need to learn how to forgive.  Kids may bully because they cannot deal with their feelings, but your kid may need to learn to fight back.  Cobra Kai sent me a clear message—the same message The Karate Kid tried to tell me in my youth:  sometimes you have to fight to avoid further conflict and torment.  Some kids need to duke it out in order to sort out their problems.  This is preferable instead of experiencing a syndrome of avoidance that leads to larger problems.  No parent wants to see their kid come home with a black eye, but if a black eye or busted lip prevents larger problems (like a school shooting), then I'll welcome that black eye with open arms, and you should, too.  I'm not here to debate school shootings or gun control, or even how we can eliminate bullying (maybe I'll explore those topics in another blog), but the reality is bullies exist.  Maybe we could learn something from Johnny Lawrence after all?  Maybe we can come to terms with our past by simply accepting it?  Oh, and by watching Cobra Kai.  —The Atomic Father 

Cobra Kai is produced by Overbrook Entertainment in association with Sony Pictures Television.  All images are copyrighted by the original creators and appear in The Atomic Father under Fair Use.