Editor’s Note: This opinion piece was rewritten for use as our staff editorial in the December 2013 print edition. This is the original work in full, as written by Austin Schouman. 

When Mrs. Wilson walked onto the stage following Michael Fowlin’s presentation, I realized exactly what was wrong with our anti-bullying campaign.

Let me back up for a minute.

Nearly every student I spoke with while walking back to class following Fowlin’s seminar thought it was excellent. More than excellent. Incredible. Fowlin managed to cut into the gut of even the most cynical students and leave his mark. Fowlin was candid. Honest. Open. Fowlin is capable of being hilarious one second and then smacking you in the face with a harsh truth the next.

Bucs Above Bullying doesn’t do that.

The characters Fowlin creates are real and unique, but most importantly the message each one brings is powerful in it’s own unique way.

Powerful is the last word I’d use to describe a bunch of matching t-shirts.

Now, Principal Wilson is in a tough spot. It’s part of her job to try and motivate students to stand up for what’s right and put bullies in their place. The catch 22 is that there’s zero chance of bullying being completely stamped out, yet everyone involved must act like that possibility is still there. It’s a crappy position to be in. Realizing all of this, I have only one request for not only Mrs. Wilson but also for our entire administration:

Scrap everything. It’s not working.

We, as a student body, are sick of everything you’ve tried. We’re completely turned off by everything you say. Bucs Above Bullying has become a joke with Don’t Be A Zebra as its punchline. We’ve become so numb to the posters and the slogans and the ugly matching t-shirts that we don’t even notice it anymore. So what can Mrs. Wilson do?

Simple: cut the BS. Tear down those signs. Stop brainstorming slogans. Donate those t-shirts to some poor kid in Africa. Stop making Senate members deliver some cookie cutter speech approved by some guy 10+ years out of high school.

Instead: give us something real.

Just do away with speeches altogether and start telling stories. Students’ stories. Give us something authentic, something and someone we can identify with. The story of one student’s struggle with a rough home life can be a beacon of hope to someone who is struggling with the same issue. It could unite students who have the same problems together and give them someone to talk to who understands exactly what they’re going through because they’re going through it themselves.

That’s why people like Fowlin so much: he’s real. He makes mistakes, and most importantly he doesn’t put himself on a pedestal and encourages students to do the same. And in opening himself up to us, we open ourselves to him.

So if our administration wants to reach students and put a stop to bullying, they need to emulate Fowlin. They need to send out real people to say things you wouldn’t expect them to say. They need to make us laugh, but more importantly they need to make us cry. They should kick us in the pants, then help us put ice on the sore spot.

If they do that, who knows? We might actually see change for once.