Gangly.  Sticklike.  So thin a gust of wind could have easily blown me away.  Yeah, that was me in sixth grade.

A beanpole.  A walking popsicle stick.  A scarecrow.

Let's face it:  I was so skinny I had to wear the smallest size in pants and shirts; I looked more like a little kid than an almost-teenager.  Didn't help that I was short for my age:  at the age of eleven, I looked more like seven or even younger.

Kids kept telling me I was in the wrong grade; the nursery school was across town.  It was embarrassing.

The reason why I was so short was I had a bum pituitary gland.  Didn't kick in until I was thirteen, but until then, I had to put up with being very short, not to mention, incredibly skinny.

Name's Grant.  Grant Tanner Escuervo.  (Last name's pronounced like Ess Kwair Voh.  It's Spanish.)  I'm nineteen now, and from looking at me you wouldn't think I was ever skinny.  I'm a big kid now; my pituitary gland went into overdrive when I was thirteen, and BOOM!  BIG kid!!  (At the age of nineteen I am now six-four and weigh 240 easily.)

Yet the memories remain.  I can still hear the taunts of kids calling me "Scarecrow", "Beanpole", "Popsicle Stick", or "Anorexic"; years later, the words cause me to cringe or cause tears to prick at my eyes.  The other kids were really horrid to me; it was a miracle I didn't even think of killing myself back then.  I was miserable; I wanted nothing more than the teasing, the taunts, to stop!

High school wasn't so bad, and neither was eighth grade, once my stupid pituitary gland decided to wake up and do its job.  Then I was much happier, once I got past the memories.

Now I talk to other kids who have been teased, or about teasing in general.  I tell them how to empower themselves against bullying, and if it doesn't stop, I teach them the necessary steps to combat this ever-growing problem, and for them to tell their parents, their teachers, the principals of their schools, if it doesn't stop or escalates.

I tell them how to kick bullying in its teeth.

I am a mentor to kids, particularly those who have been bullied.  I know how it feels:  I've been there.  Sometimes I still get sad when the memories try to come back, but I then swallow my pride, put my trust in God, and give kids the lowdown on how to protect themselves from bullies or bullying behavior.

You'd never know that me, giant, gargantuan me, was once a "sixth-grade scarecrow"; however, I have the pictures to prove it, and whenever kids see how I looked when I was their age, they are always shocked.

I hope to give kids the tools they need to protect themselves, and I pray that no more children fall victim to bullying; if anything, bullying, if done to excess, can cause kids to kill themselves or others.  It's happened way too often in today's world.  Look at the killings at Columbine High School, as an example:  some teenage boys who had been bullied decided to "get back" at their classmates and teachers, and as a result, several lives were lost, thus, changing the school landscape forever.

It's happened several times since then, and every time I hear of another school shooting, I get physically sick, as my mind flashes back to those terrible years in elementary school.  No, I didn't like the teasing, but I wasn't going to kill someone over it; I just wanted it to stop, so I could move on with my life.

Well, I have another speaking engagement in a few hours at another elementary school, so I must go now, get ready, mentally prepare myself for the task that's surely to come.  If I can make a difference in one kid's life, then what I do for a living will be worth everything!

~Written by Grant Tanner Escuervo ("Bully-Buster" and ex-scarecrow).  :)