Free My Life as a Cartoonist by Janet Tashjian

didn’t.”
    â€œWhy?” It’s the simplest of questions but not one with an easy answer.
    My parents wait for me to respond. With this kind of patience, they’d probably make good surfers.
    My mother finally tilts her head and meets my eyes. “I know why you went,” she says. “I just want you to say it.”
    I know my parents well enough to know they’re not going to let this subject die. It’s the whole only-child thing: They have to over-analyze everything I do as if every tiny detail of my life is the most important thing in the world. I’m usually flattered by this kind of hyper-attention, but today it only wears me down.
    I take a deep sigh. “I went because I didn’t want to be the kid who was too afraid to fight a kid in a wheelchair.”
    â€œThat’s wrong on so many levels,” she says. “First of all, even though he’s in a wheelchair, Umberto could’ve beaten you by being smarter. Smart always counts in a fight.”
    I don’t dare interrupt to find out why my mother is suddenly an expert in the art of hand-to-hand combat.
    â€œSecond,” she says. “If you thought you somehow deserved to win because you were able-bodied and he wasn’t, that’s wrong too.”
    Inquisition
    I’m about to protest when she holds up her hand to stop me. “That’s your part in all this. As far as Umberto goes, he needs to understand that being in a wheelchair isn’t an excuse to be a bully. If he’s using a physical challenge as an excuse for bad behavior, that’s just as wrong.”
    discomfort
    I glance over at the clock, wondering when this Spanish Inquisition will finally end. My father must sense my discomfort because he takes a sheet of paper and slides it across the table.
    â€œWhy don’t you read this,” he says. “Let us know what you think.”
    â€œJeremy, I’m not really done,” my mother says.
    belabor
    My father places his hand on hers. “I don’t think we need to belabor the point.”
    At this moment, I love my father more than Christmas and my birthday combined. I love my mom too, but belaboring is what she lives for. When I look over at Frank, I swear he also breathes a sigh of relief.
    I grab the paper and race to my room.
    That was worse than a root canal and I’ve never even had one.

Some Crazy Facts
    statistics
    Anyone who knows me knows I hate to read, but even I have to admit that some of the statistics on bullying and intimidation were interesting—and scary.
    intimidation
    I shove the sheet in a folder and cram it under the books on my desk. Why did my parents give me such gloomy stuff to read before bed? I lie on the floor next to Bodi and try to pretend I’d never read it.
    solace
    I appreciate my parents’ efforts but Umberto shows no signs of stopping. I don’t take much solace knowing that other kids around the world are being bullied much worse than I am. And I don’t care what my mother says: The fact that Umberto is in a wheelchair does factor into it.
    cynical
    The tips my parents have printed out run through my mind: avoid being alone with the bully, ignore his threats, walk away, find a safe place, tell a trusted adult. But when push comes to shove—literally—I don’t know how helpful these tips will be. Maybe I’m being cynical, maybe these tips are foolproof and work every time. In the end, I decide I have nothing to lose by trying.

Let the Games Begin
    Matt tells me he’ll pull one of the fire alarms so he can get detention too but we know he won’t do it. Carly is angry at both Umberto and me and decides to ignore him, which only makes Umberto try to get HER into trouble too. But Carly doesn’t let herself get sucked into Umberto’s evil plans.
    Ms. McCoddle insists we suffer through our punishment in her classroom instead of with Ms. Loughlin, who usually runs detention. Ms.