MONDAY, NOVEMBER 4, 2013: I’m sure most of my readers in the US
have seen the car bumper stickers where proud parents boast about how their
public school aged honor students are kicking ass… academically. What a wonderful
way to encourage these kids, who, after all, will need to be intellectually
curious and well prepared to lead our world into the future.
However, if you
drive around long enough, wherever you may live in lowercase america, you’ll
eventually spot a bumper sticker where butthead parents use the rear end of their cars
to boast about how their kids are kicking ass… literally. More
specifically:
I believe
far more than crass capitalism (at its worst) is to blame, here. Any
“entrepreneurs” who’d manufacture and huckster such vile, violence inciting
products have got to be feeling nostalgic for their glory days as vicious school
bullies. Little doubt, they’ve snagged their “dream” jobs; the perfect
blend of savage business and sadistic pleasure.
Their bumper
stickers, in part, “validate” bullies, who’ve morphed into present-day
stick-figure parents; who are raising their kids to be the spitting image of
themselves; raising their own offspring to raise hell. Their spawned “little
ones” are spawning a nightmare that we, as a society, are finding difficult to
wake up from.
Some would say
that such stickers are “just” a joke and I should lighten up. But, I cannot.
Not when I, myself, was a victim of
bullying.
Not when the next public school mass
murder is not a matter of “if’ but “when”. By now, the mass media must’ve developed a form story; all
a reporter need do is simply fill in the blanks with the date and time, school
name, shooter’s name and body count.
Must we turn our
schools into warzones with in-house SWAT teams and MASH units? Must
administrators have teachers teach from behind bulletproof glass walls? Arm
instructors with assault rifles and revise student dress codes to require bulletproof
helmets and Kevlar vests?
Not when cyber-bullying
routinely, negatively impacts student bodies within our nation’s public school
system. While becoming a victim is not gender specific, demographically,
this most frequently affects girls who are aged 10 thru 14. Victims oft wind up
withdrawn, depressed and engage in substance abuse and other reckless behavior.
Some become runaways; join the ranks of the milk carton portrait missing. Worst-case
scenario, others are eventually driven by their tormentors to kill themselves. The
stats show that, annually, 4,400 kids find suicide to be their only way out.
And for every suicide, there are 100 attempts.
Let’s get into some specifics, now, with regards to a former Florida, Crystal Lake Middle School
student, Rebecca Sedwick.
You can read the
more detailed story and view the related vid, HERE, but, suffice to say, this
tormented teen was forced to endure up to 15 female bullies led astray by two ringleader
girls, ages 14 and 12; the 12-year-old was formerly Rebecca’s best friend, no
less. As for the 14-year-old bully, she threatened to beat up Rebecca and told
her “to drink bleach and die.”
Rebecca’s mom
was left little choice but to homeschool her daughter until she could arrange a
transfer to a new “safer” school. But, there could be no escape; no way out.
Not when cyber-bullying is the latest rage. And, yes, RAGE is the perfect word for it. This young student’s tormentors
were always laying in wait; skulking in the murky shadows of cyberspace; all
plotting to ensnare their victim within their mangled, tangled WWW.
Feeling utterly
devastated, by September 9, 2013, Rebecca was driven to desperation. Her
tormentors’ incessant harassment caused her to jump off a tower at an abandoned
concrete plant… to her death.
How did the
14-year-old bully react? Check out this anti-social social network / Facebook
comment, which she is alleged to have posted.
“Yes, ik I
bullied REBECCA nd she killed her self but IDGAF <3”
Oh, did you note
how this commenter punctuated her seething with hatred rage with a cutesy heart
symbol. Nice touch, huh? What? No smiley faces?
Imagine the gall
of a bully who doesn’t feel that she’s done anything wrong and experiences zero
remorse? As if what? Her bullying didn’t cause Rebecca’s death? And to top it
all off she brags about it. As if what? She can get away with murder. And
please note that I didn’t end that previous sentence with a question mark. Why?
Because Rebecca’s tormentors likely will
get away with murder. It’s
easy to see how they will get off scot-free. Here in lowercase american “society”
even the Sandy Hook Elementary School mass murder was not a wake up call. Nope,
the enough is enough outrage society felt after 20 innocent children got mowed down during the December holidays was short-lived. America's sorrow was not contagious on Capitol Hill where
the (mostly GOP’s) heedless, headless, heartless US senators and representatives
didn’t give a damn about making the required, common sense changes in gun laws to make our public schools safer. Nope, these NRA owned politicians never intended to take even the smallest baby steps toward the betterment of society.
Orlando Florida
attorney David Hill says the parents of those who bullied Rebecca could be
charged with contributing to the delinquency of a minor; i.e., IF the alleged daddies and mommies knew
of the bullying and chose not to stop it; of course IF being the operative word. After all, ignoramuses (masquerading as parents) could always plead ignorance.
New Jersey
lawyer Perry Aftab said it would be tough to convict anyone accused of causing
a person to commit suicide, in part, because of our laws that protect free
speech! Imagine that! Words that kill are a constitutional right?
Whatever the outcome, here’s where this case stands as of 10/30/13.
Both the 14 and 12 year old, were arrested on 10/21/13 and pled not guilty to the
charge of felony aggravated stalking; their arraignment is tentatively
scheduled for 11/21/13.
Folks, Rebecca’s death has reopened old
wounds… my own. From the
fourth grade onward, bullies relentlessly picked on me. I was unable to do
something as simple as walking through my public school’s hallways without being
mercilessly taunted and teased. What made this unwanted attention even harder
to fathom was that nearly all of these bullies were total strangers to me. Just
how could anyone, who I had never even met, who I could’ve never wronged in any
imaginable way, vent such hostility towards me?
Even more
incredulous, one bully, who I did know by name, Jerry, delivered the daily
newspaper to my home’s doorstep. He obviously didn’t see the inherently bad biz
practice of bullying the son of one of his paying customers; something my dad
had to sternly point out to him when he ordered my tormentor to cease and
desist. You want to know the kicker to this story? So unmoved by my father’s
lecture; so unwilling to back down from bullying me; this kid quit his paper
route.
But bullies were not content to attack me
verbally. Here are just
four of many examples.
Incident One: While on the playground teeter-totter
with a friend, one of these bullies, who just happened to be passing by,
decided to jump on the other end. His sudden extra weight catapulted me into
the air and on the way down, my sudden impact (with both the teeter-totter and
ground) netted me an ugly, painful black and blue bump / contusion on my
forehead.
Incident Two: In another playground incident, this time,
right after I had eaten my lunch. One bully used a “full nelson hold” on me so
I could not use my own arms to protect myself; so his pal could easily deliver
his painful punch to my stomach; one that almost made me vomit.
Incident Three: Even summer vacation offered no escape.
I vividly recall frantically pedaling my bike to escape a gang of my tormentors;
only to fall and scrape my outer thigh on the rough concrete of my home’s
driveway. As I picked myself up, I could hear these bullies’ guffaws and
catcalls in the distance. They were obviously ecstatic over my misery; my injuries
and pain.
Incident Four: The most degrading, depressing experience
of all occurred one cold winter morning at the bus stop (that pick-up point
being a nearby high school). While waiting inside for the arrival of bus #17,
which would take me to my elementary school, bully Kenny went over to a drinking
fountain, filled up his foul mouth with water, turned around and took aim. With
the fists of both his hands, he next punched his cheeks to geyser that spit and
water… right at me… most of it winding up on my face. Thoroughly pleased with
himself, with a nasty smirk, he then walked away, laughing with glee. I walked,
too. All the way home. I missed school that day; just one of countless others
where I was routinely denied a nonthreatening environment to obtain my
education.
So where was the support system I was
suppose to have? When I
reported school incidents to my unsympathetic, pathetic “teachers”; those who
were purportedly there to protect and help me, what did I get? Well, when shown my injuries from the teeter-totter incident, I instantly sensed teach’s “Eh… so what?” insensitivity. She neither bothered to ask if I was feeling pain
or dizziness nor did she as much as suggest that the school nurse examine me.
On another
occasion, the “teacher” imparted her advice, “It takes two to make a fight.” As
if what? Turn the other cheek? As if what? The totally unprovoked abuse I was
receiving was half my fault? Or maybe in her mind, these incidents were,
somehow, ALL my fault?
And I do remind my readers that I had done absolutely
nothing to warrant any of these attacks. But I suppose my mere existence was
reason enough.
When my parents wrote a note to the school
principle (let’s call
him by his name, Dwight), he could not muster enough common decency and compassion
to discretely call me down to his private office to discuss the matter.
Instead, dimwit Dwight opted to publically chew me out, point his finger right
in my stunned, horrified face. He actually accused me of being a liar! At that
point, I was feeling about one centimeter tall.
Dwight’s merciless
tirade took place right before (the suddenly gone dead silent) school lunchroom;
filled with hundreds of kids (and you guessed it) that was inclusive of my
tormentors. He obviously didn’t take kindly to my folks pointing out the
obvious; that he had lost control over his cesspool school (if he ever really had
any control to begin with). And he was far too arrogant and ignorant to realize
how he, himself, had just added HIS VERY
OWN NAME to the already long list of bullies who were making my so-called
life an absolute, unbearable hell.
And right on
cue, Dwight had emboldened the very bullies he should’ve been chewing out. But
I do suppose he was merely employing a bit of cost (d)effective time management.
It was far easier to tear into one defenseless kid, me, than deal with several
dozen brazen bullies. His unspoken message to my tormentors was abundantly
clear, i.e., those who they victimized would be punished; not them; a fact that
they endlessly reveled in. From that point onward, their taunting words would
constantly remind me of how the principal had scolded me.
This totally
unwarranted humiliation left me feeling despair that no kid should ever be
forced to endure. The unfinished portion of my bag lunch wound up in the trash
receptacle. Noon recess followed and as I ran from the school, wishing I could
run much farther away than the playground, I slipped on some wet gravel, fell and
scraped my ankle. The only “plus”, here, was my tormentors hadn’t been there to
enjoy seeing that.
So, you can see how I
can identify with a story, such as Rebecca’s. Suffice to say, the only
reason I hadn’t committed suicide like she did, was my (then) naiveté re that
“option”.
So, just how did
I cope? My only escape was using any and every ailment / injury as an excuse
for absenting myself from Dwight’s pro-bully school. To that end, my allergies to
airborne particulates played a prominent role. I mean, unless
somebody took my temperature, my red and runny nose, coughing, wheezing and
sneezing made it easy to fake colds.
I was only able
to keep up with my studies / pass my teachers’ tests because both of my parents were
teachers (Mom: English and Literature; Dad: Math and the Sciences). I suppose
one could say that, for the most part, I was home schooled long before it
became “fashionable”. And to make an educated guess, here, I’d say that many of
my pro-bully teachers, while taking roll call, were all too happy to see the
frequently empty chair behind my assigned desk.
Being the victim of childhood bullies I grew up to see our world as an unfit
place to raise children. And unless that were ever to change, I will never change my
decision to not father any children. And, believe me, tragedies, such as Rebecca
Sedwick’s bully induced suicide, only strengthen my POV re the inhuman race.
Of course, my
own personal, no kids policy still doesn’t alter the fact that lowercase
america is where stick figure parents routinely dump their tyrant / terrorist
spawn into our public schools. Bumper stickers, which boast, “My Kid Can Beat
Up Your Honor Student” all point toward a sick society, one which can only turn
out a bumper crop of bullies and endless barrages of ricocheting bullets.
Since children are the future… well… left unchecked, bullies will become
“our” future elected officials. Wait a sec… will become? Did I just type that?
To get real
here, the bullies have already been elected and sworn in. During the recent US
Government shutdown, we all became eyewitness to the reprehensible Tea Party;
a.k.a. the first wave of bully politicians (whose hero worship most likely
centers on the bullies / torturers / sociopaths from the previous admin; i.e.,
the now X prez W Bush and XVP Dick Cheney).
As for the second wave? Those who bullied Rebecca Sedwick, until she
committed suicide, can and will be elected to high office, someday. It makes me
glad that, at best, I only have about 10 to 20 years left before my demise.
As for the (in the minority) decent
people who'll survive me? You
have my pity.
As for those stick figure entities and
their “hatched” zygotes who'll survive me? You’ve made your bed and you’ll have to lie in it. You
wretched types can only have the wretched world you create.
To put that into
computer parlance:
Garbage In =
Garbage Out
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