Author: Zack Newsome

October is National Bullying Prevention Month, a time when communities, schools, and individuals join forces to foster empathy, inclusion, and safe environments for everyone. The idea is simple yet powerful: bullying doesn’t stop when you turn your back on it, but kindness in action can shift the balance.

In this week’s Wellness Wednesday, we’re looking at practical, real-world ways to move from intention to impact — to be kindness in action — and to help put an end to bullying.

Before diving into strategies, it’s helpful to recognize what bullying looks like and why bystanders, communities, and leaders all matter.

• What is bullying? Bullying involves repeated, unwanted aggressive behavior among peers, often where there is a power imbalance. It may be physical, verbal, social/emotional (e.g. exclusion, rumor-spreading), or digital (cyberbullying).
• Why it persists: Bullying often thrives when no one intervenes. Bystanders may feel powerless, unsure, or afraid. And individuals who bully might be struggling with their own issues of stress, marginalization, or a need for social control.
• The ripple effect of kindness: When someone acts as an upstander (instead of staying passive), it can interrupt bullying in its tracks.

Given this, “kindness in action” is about cultivating environments where cruelty becomes socially unacceptable — not just through policies, but through everyday behaviors.

Actions speak louder than words. Whether at home, in classrooms, in staff meetings, or online, your behavior sets the tone.

• Speak kindly, listen actively, and apologize when you err.
• Address microaggressions and exclusionary behaviors immediately (e.g., “That joke is hurtful — let’s not say that”).
• Encourage sharing of perspectives: invite people to explain how they feel and why, rather than assuming.

By doing so, you show others that respect is the default. UNICEF recommends showing children how to treat others by treating others well yourself.

Bullying often arises when people lack self-regulation, perspective-taking, or conflict-resolution skills. You can address this:

• Embed “soft skills” training (empathy, communication, emotional awareness) into classrooms or group settings.
• Use role-playing scenarios to let participants practice responding to bullying or exclusion.
• Introduce frameworks like the THINK strategy (True, Helpful, Important, Necessary, Kind) before speaking or posting.
• Hold workshops or peer-led sessions on digital citizenship and bystander intervention.

These practices help people shift from reactive to reflective responses.

Most bullying does not happen in isolation — someone sees it. Turning bystanders into upstanders is critical:

• Teach simple, safe tactics for intervening: ask a question (“Hey, you okay?”), shift the direction (“Let’s not do this”), or redirect the attention.
• Reward and celebrate acts of kindness or intervention publicly (in newsletters, assemblies, recognition boards).
• Create peer support groups or clubs focused on inclusion and empathy.
• Commit to collective pledges: for example, The Be Kind People Project’s Take the Be Kind Pledge invites students to commit to intentionally extend good to others in actions and words. PACER’s anti-bullying pledge encourages students to speak up, reach out, and offer support.

When more people act, cruelty begins to lose its social license.

Bullying often emerges out of hierarchy, exclusion, or social silence. You can counter that by creating bonding through shared, structured experiences.

• Use community-building or circle-time formats where everyone voices something, without judgement.
• Design classroom or group projects around kindness, inclusion, and respect (e.g. “kindness challenge,” community service, anti-bullying poster campaigns).
• Apply the “wrinkled heart” or “bruised apple” metaphors to visually demonstrate how hurtful words leave lasting scars.
• Use mixed-group seating or random pairings frequently to reduce social cliques.

These practices break down barriers and encourage connections across social divides.

Even the kindest environment needs structures to back it. People need paths to speak up and be heard.

• Publicize clear, confidential reporting paths (teacher, counselor, trusted “safe adult”).
• Document incidents carefully and develop consistent response procedures.
• Provide emotional support and follow-up for both targets and people who act intervening.
• Offer restorative justice circles or guided conversations to repair harm rather than just punish.

A safe process means more people trust you and engage.

Bullying isn’t won in the classroom alone — it spans families, neighborhoods, communities, and online spaces.

• Host events during October, since it’s National Bullying Prevention Month, such as “kindness fairs,” awareness campaigns, or wear-orange days (Unity Day).
• Encourage social media positivity campaigns (e.g. post one compliment a day, share uplifting stories).
• Partner with local nonprofits like The Be Kind People Project® and Bystander Revolution (which mobilizes individuals to diffuse bullying).
• Invite guest speakers, host panels, or create community dialogues around empathy, identity, and conflict.

This broader engagement turns kindness from a school theme into a cultural norm.

You can’t fix what you don’t track. Use metrics, feedback, and reflection to refine approach.

• Conduct anonymous surveys (students, staff, families) about perceptions of school climate, bullying prevalence, and safety.
• Monitor trends: where, when, and how bullying occurs most (e.g. hallways, online, lunch periods).
• Form an anti-bullying committee (students and adults) to review data, propose strategies, and follow through.
• Adjust your interventions based on feedback and results.

With measurement comes accountability and improvement.

While National Bullying Prevention Month offers a focal point, the effort must extend beyond. Strategies to sustain momentum include:

• Integrate lessons on inclusion, tolerance, and social responsibility throughout the school year and curriculum.
• Celebrate kindness daily: shout-outs, “kindness jars,” random acts of appreciation.
• Provide ongoing professional development for educators and staff in trauma-informed responses, conflict mediation, and inclusive practices.
• Encourage cross-age mentoring (older students supporting younger peers) or buddy programs.

Long-term culture change occurs through consistency.

You’ll likely face hurdles — skepticism, “we’ve done this before,” resource constraints, or backlash. Here’s how to meet them:

• Start small and build trust. Don’t overpromise sweeping change. Begin with one classroom, one grade, or one activity.
• Invite volunteers and champions. Find those who already care and offer doable tasks.
• Communicate wins. Share stories, testimonials, and data — even small successes matter.
• Be patient. Social norms shift slowly. Perseverance matters.
• Expect discomfort. Real dialogue sometimes triggers defensiveness. Facilitate ground rules (listen, avoid blame, aim to understand).
• Bridge divides. Recognize differences in experiences (gender, race, ability, identity) and make sure all voices are heard in planning.

Resistance is part of the process — kindness doesn’t always feel comfortable at first.

How will you know if kindness is taking root?

• Drop in reported bullying incidents (formal and informal).
• Improved survey scores on school climate, inclusion, and trust.
• Increased reports of bystander intervention and peer support.
• More students and staff recognizing themselves as upstanders.
• Qualitative stories or testimonials — e.g. “I saw Sam stand up for Maria and redirect the teasing” — as morale markers.

These indicators, combined with ongoing reflection, can guide direction and sustain the movement.

In a world where cruelty can spread fast, small acts of consistent kindness can change culture. National Bullying Prevention Month is a catalyst — but true change depends on what we do the other 11 months. Through modeling, teaching, empowering, supporting, and reflecting, we can turn bystanders into allies, transform climates of fear into climates of care, and replace bullying with belonging.

If each person commits to at least one concrete act — stepping in, honoring someone’s voice, offering support, or challenging injustice — then kindness ceases to be passive; it becomes powerful, contagious, and real. In the words of many anti-bullying campaigns: “Stop the Bullying. Raise Kindness.”

October is National ADD/ADHD Awareness Month — an opportune time not just for awareness, but for deeper understanding. Despite decades of research and clinical experience, ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder) and ADHD (Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder) are still widely misunderstood. Stereotypes and myths persist in schools, workplaces, and even within families.

In this week’s Wellness Wednesday article, we’ll push past those misconceptions to explore what science really says about ADD/ADHD—and how we can shift toward empathy, accommodation, and nuance.

First, a quick clarification on terms. “ADD” is an older label (from earlier diagnostic manuals) that referred primarily to what we now call the inattentive presentation of ADHD—where hyperactivity is not dominant. Today, clinicians generally use ADHD as the umbrella term, with subtypes or “presentations” (inattentive, hyperactive-impulsive, or combined) as defined in the DSM-5.

Historically, the concept evolved over time. Children with inattentive, hyperactive, or impulsive traits have been described in medical and psychological literature for over 200 years. Over successive diagnostic manuals, the definitions shifted, and by the late 20th century, researchers like Keith Conners helped formalize rating scales and bring ADHD into clinical discourse. Today, we recognize ADHD as a neurodevelopmental disorder—not a simple behavior problem or moral failing.

People living with ADHD—and those around them—often confront reductive or dismissive views. Let’s call out several of the most persistent ones:

These misconceptions are more than annoying—they contribute to stigma, which creates real harm. Children in classrooms may be judged as lazy or disruptive; adults may internalize criticism, feel shame, or avoid seeking support.

To move beyond stereotypes, it helps to understand what scientific research reveals about what ADHD is (and what it isn’t).

Brain imaging and functional connectivity studies have repeatedly found differences in people with ADHD, particularly in brain regions involved in executive functions, attention networks, and reward-processing pathways. Some research points to altered coupling in the saliency network (which helps switch between internal and external focus), as well as atypical connectivity in the frontal and striatal circuits.

However, no single brain “marker” can diagnose ADHD reliably—these are probabilistic, rather than deterministic, patterns.

ADHD is highly heritable; estimates often point to genetic influences accounting for up to ~70–80% of the variance. But genetics are not destiny. ADHD reflects a complex interplay of gene-environment interactions, developmental trajectories, and epigenetic factors.

One model holds that the ADHD brain may develop more slowly in some regions—particularly in the prefrontal cortex, which regulates impulse control and sustained attention.

No, ADHD is not “caused by bad parenting.” But environmental factors play a role in shaping symptom expression. Prenatal exposures (e.g. tobacco, stress), early adversity, sleep problems, diet, and psychosocial stressors can influence severity, coping capacity, and comorbidities.

Importantly, ADHD is heterogeneous—people differ in type, severity, co-occurring conditions (like anxiety, learning disabilities, depression) and how their brains adapt or compensate across lifespan.

Even as research advances, stereotypes stick because they’re simple, easy to understand, and often reaffirmed in everyday life. But they matter—because they:

• Gatekeep access to support. If a student is dismissed as lazy, they may not receive accommodations. If an adult is told they’re “just scatterbrained,” they might feel shame rather than pursue evaluation.
• Internalize shame and self-stigma. Many people with ADHD internalize negative narratives, affecting self-esteem, relationships, and mental health.
• Misdirect intervention. Treating symptoms superficially (e.g. pushing more structure without supports, or over-relying on medication) may miss the nuanced needs of each individual.
• Fuel misinformation and distrust. In the age of social media, misinformation circulates rapidly—recent studies show that exposure to ADHD myths leads to poorer understanding and more interest in non–evidence-based treatments.

For a month dedicated to awareness, it’s a good opportunity to promote accurate understanding over simplistic portrayals.

One of the most insidious biases in ADHD is the historical underdiagnosis or delayed diagnosis of girls and women. Their symptoms often present more subtly—inattentiveness, internal restlessness, emotional regulation difficulties—rather than overt hyperactivity.

A 2025 study highlighted the adverse experiences of women with undiagnosed ADHD, showing additional burdens such as self-doubt, relationship struggles, and delayed access to accommodations or treatment.

This gender bias is compounded by stereotypes—“boys being messy,” or “girls being dreamy”—which delay referral and diagnosis until adulthood.

If we take seriously the complexities of ADHD, we can shift our thinking and response in several ways:

1. See the presentation, not the label. Rather than assume ADHD looks a certain way, allow each person’s strengths, struggles, and strategies to define supports.
2. Combine supports—behavioral, environmental, and medical. The most effective approaches are multimodal: coaching, behavioral therapy, accommodations (in school or workplace), organizational scaffolding, and—when appropriate—medication.
3. Prioritize self-understanding and self-advocacy. Many people with ADHD benefit from psychoeducation (learning how their brain works), developing metacognitive strategies, and finding systems that help (timers, external reminders, task breakdowns).
4. Cultivate empathy and structural accommodations. Teachers, managers, family members—if you suspect someone is struggling, consider whether better scaffolding or flexibility could help. It’s not about coddling; it’s about level playing fields.
5. Normalize diversity of cognition. ADHD is not a deficit in the sense of morality or intelligence—many individuals with ADHD are highly creative, adaptive, or hyperfocused in domains of passion. A neurodiversity mindset says: brains differ, so let’s build environments that adapt.

Even as awareness grows, challenges remain:

1. Diagnostic ambiguity and overlap. ADHD often co-occurs with other conditions (e.g. learning disorders, anxiety, depression), complicating assessment.
2. Equity in access. Marginalized communities may face barriers to diagnosis and treatment—fewer specialists, insurance limitations, stigma.
3. Lifespan perspectives. ADHD does not “go away” in many individuals—adult ADHD is real, though sometimes underrecognized.
4. Refining science and interventions. We need better biomarkers, more personalized treatments, and longitudinal studies to understand how ADHD evolves and how interventions can adapt over decades.

But there’s reason for optimism. Research continues to uncover more about brain networks, genetics, and development. Public education campaigns and neurodiversity advocacy are shifting cultural norms. And increasingly, people with ADHD are reclaiming their narratives—speaking openly about what works, where support helps, and where stereotypes still sting.

As we commemorate National ADD/ADHD Awareness Month, “awareness” must go beyond awareness of the name—it must deepen into understanding. ADD and ADHD are not caricatures. They are complex, individual, and real. Stereotypes and myths obscure more than they illuminate.

By listening to lived experience, engaging the latest science, and shifting toward compassionate, tailored support, we can move from stigmatizing labels to richer, more empowering narratives. In doing so, we honor the diversity of minds and open doors for people living with ADHD to thrive—not despite their neurodiversity, but because of it.