No Snitches, No Stitches, No Fear.

While going to elementary school in Norway, there were these two boys in my class—twins—who seemed to be nothing but mean, cruel, and hurtful.

I remember being made fun of because I was wearing a new pair of white Nike shoes. Another time, I was repeatedly called a nerd because of my good grades in math. And then there was the time I was ripped to shreds after winning the school tetherball tournament.

It was an emotional tournament because of the obstacles I faced on the way to victory. These included facing and beating my best friend in the last game.  

Fortunately for me, I was protected.

The principal at my school hated bullying. He actively protected his students, confronted bullying when he found out about it, and created an environment where kindness, grace, and camaraderie was the corner stone of the school culture.

My principal made it safe for students to speak up after being put down. He encouraged us to find the courage to share our experiences, and he brought the entire school together to shine a light on this destructive behavior.

In my therapy room, I have heard countless stories from kids in elementary, middle, and high school say with fear, the phrase, “Snitches get stitches.”

At first, I was confused by this phrase because this comes from street and gang culture as a warning that someone who cooperated with law enforcement could face violent consequences. Never in school culture.

When a bully says, “Snitches get stitches,” it creates a second layer of fear.

The child has already been bullied, threatened, or hurt. Then the perpetrator adds another threat: Don’t tell anyone.

The message is clear: “If you tell someone about what I’ve done to you, I will hurt you again.”

Now the child is carrying two fears—the fear of what has already happened and the fear of what might happen if they speak up.

I don’t want to accept this reality, because what happened at my elementary school was the complete opposite.

There, someone in a position of authority made sure that those with less power had the encouragement, opportunity, and support they needed to speak up. That environment took away the bully’s greatest weapon: fear. 

The twins in my elementary school tried again and again to create chaos and intimidation within the school community. But they failed. Their attempts to spread fear had little power in an environment where the community chose to respond with kindness, courage, and love.

There is an important lesson in that for our schools, our neighborhoods, our families, and the kind of society we want to build.

We can create environments where people feel safe enough to speak up. We can shine a light on harmful behavior, recognize when someone is being targeted, and protect those who need support. We can teach children that speaking up takes courage—and that courage will be met with support rather than punishment.

Most importantly, we can build communities where love, kindness, grace, and courage have more power than fear.

The Takeaway

Bullying has been defeated, and it can be defeated again.

When people in positions of power make sure that those with less power have the opportunity, encouragement, and support to speak up, bullies lose one of their greatest tools: fear. In an environment where people know they will be heard, supported, and protected, the threat behind “snitches get stitches” begins to lose its power.



Love may take a little longer to blossom, and it often requires more courage. But love is far more powerful than fear—especially when an entire community chooses to stand behind it.