Seeing him transported me back to when I was bullied, and I knew I needed to step up for him.
Seeing my son cry because he was being bullied transported me to my own school troubles. mrs/Getty Images
My 12-year-old son came home early from the park crying about the awful names his schoolmates called him. As he gasped for air between giant sobs, I felt my old wounds rip open, even though this wasn't about early-'90s middle-school me.