I see myself in Javits Frimpong. I survived. He didn't | Opinion

I see myself in Javits Frimpong.

Like him, I’m a child of Ghanaian immigrants whose parents sought a better life for me in America. Also, like him, I was bullied. My African features, my ethnic lunches, my unstylish clothes and my more feminine inflection made me a target for those who saw my differences as flaws not worthy of understanding.

Unlike Javits, though, I survived after my bullying.

At just 15 years old, Javits was fatally shot while on his way to school on Oct. 29 near Crotona Park in the Bronx, New York. Investigators are searching for three teens who reportedly fled the area wearing black sweatsuits and blue surgical masks. Though police have not identified any suspects or made any arrests, Javits' father believes bullying is to blame.

Thomas Frimpong, 60, told police detectives two fellow students had recently been suspended for bullying his son. New York Mayor Zohran Mamdani says he called President Donald Trump and got him to grant Javits’ mother, who still lives in Ghana, an immediate visa to come to New York.

“Javits Frimpong’s mother deserves to say goodbye to her son in person,” Mamdani said on social media. “All of New York City is mourning this tragedy.”

Whatever the investigation brings, a teenager's American dream turned to tragedy in a matter of moments. And it's a reminder of the dangers of bullying and how antiquated our measures to address it have become.

The bullies of today are not the bullies of yesterday

Growing up, I remember sitting in countless anti-bullying initiatives that, while well-intentioned, didn’t reflect my experiences. I wasn’t shoved in lockers. I wasn’t followed around by a group of jocks.

My bullying came in the form of hateful remarks from strangers – and even friends – in hallways and at lunch tables. Because it occurred so passively, it felt hard to report. Was I supposed to tell a trusted adult every time someone called me a mean name? Even when I did, I was brushed aside and told to not let it affect me. But it did and still does.

The issue with how we address – or don’t address – bullying stems from the refusal to call it out for what it is and what it stems from. Bullying is a reflection of our social mores, not some formless idea that can be easily solved with “kindness” slogans and celebrity campaigns.

As I reflect on my experiences, I now understand that the bullying I faced was informed by homophobia, xenophobia, classism and racism. Though the suspects and their motives remain unknown, it’s not improbable that Javits' situation was just as politically charged – especially in this climate. Dynamics his classmates also experienced.

Bullying is too evolved for antiquated responses

Anti-bullying propaganda would rather beat around the bush than address its sociopolitical nature head-on out of fear of misunderstanding and “indoctrination.”

But if children are young enough to display and experience bigotry, they’re young enough to learn about it.

As social media creates a new frontier for bullying, continuing to ignore the politics of children's cruelty will only make matters worse.

We’ve seen how the manosphere has turned young boys violent. We know how pervasive and covert cyberbullying can be – even sliding past the most tech-literate parents. We also know that social media sites are slow to act with preventative measures. If Big Tech won’t save our kids, it’s up to parents and communities to save our children from hate-stirring propaganda. We’ve seen tragic outcomes when we don’t.

Javits Frimpong didn’t have to die. And no child should experience bullying.

Political conversations with kids can be hard. Witnessing bullying take another young life is much harder.

Kofi Mframa is an entertainment and culture columnist at USA TODAY.