Someone has to say something. Bullying is an epidemic in our schools. In big cities, in small towns, in YOUR community, children are being bullied every day. We need to wake up, draw a line in the sand, and say enough is enough. It’s time to take bullying out of our schools and into old warehouses where anything goes and the only rule is pain.
School should be a safe place. Kids are there to learn. To socialize. To be nourished, mind, body, and soul. It needs to be kept sacred. Bullying belongs not in the classroom, but in warehouses—God’s blind spots—where children are forged into something greater.
It’s high time that we all do what’s best for our communities. We need programs to ensure that children won’t face torment in school, but will instead be subjected to it in rusting labyrinths, away from books and desks and under the watchful eyes of dozens of hooting, whooping adult men.
Bullying belongs not in the classroom, but in warehouses—God’s blind spots—where children are forged into something greater.
We have already implemented this educational reform in our town and schools are thriving. The average grade point average is way up, and reports of bullying are at an all-time low. Sure, some of the kids complain about being dragged by fathers to the warehouse at three in the morning to battle under the steaming lights while my brother Joe’s death metal band plays at full volume, but this is ultimately what’s best for their futures.
And it’s worth it. The transformation the bullies and their victims go through in the pits and mazes we’ve built in this old warehouse is nothing short of phenomenal. The confidence they get when one of us dads tosses down an old table leg or length of rope with a hammer tied to it—well, it’s written all over their faces. On each child, you see the face of someone for whom the world finally makes sense; someone fluent in the languages of strength and blood, finally allowed to speak. It is the face of a misunderstood genius thriving in the nihilistic universe we’ve built for him in that warehouse, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
It’s time we sent a message to our would-be bullies: Schools are schools. And the warehouse is a private hell where their dads are the devil. Let’s keep it that way.