Tag Archive: Child


Mother and Child (Lady Shannon and Kitty)

Mother and Child (Lady Shannon and Kitty) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My mother passed a few years back but she lives on inside everyone who knew her. My earliest memories are of snuggling beside her as she read book after
book, chapter, after chapter, developing a life-long love affair with
stories in me. Later, she would read to herself page after page, paper
after paper, story after story of my work, gently correcting, guiding,
teaching me how to develop my own writing. After she was gone, when I
went through her things, it was my turn to read paper after paper, note
after note, the wisdom of her life scribbled on scraps, napkins, church
bulletin margins. She was such a quiet, strong presence, yet, larger than life, because she knew how to love. She poured out her existence for love and service of others. She was cheerleader, tutor, servant, comforter, adviser, counselor, Proverbs 31. She was better at keeping her tongue than anyone I have ever met. Most certainly better at it than me! But I keep trying. I strive every day to live up to the legacy of her life. I am becoming, every day, my best person, because of her gifts to me. I may not be able to touch her face again, hug her body, but she is still alive, vibrant, giving–in me, through me, for me.
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god

god (Photo credit: the|G|™)

There is a knot in my gut that never seems to go away anymore.  The stress and fear never go away either.   I walk quickly between classes, keeping my head down, eyes averted, hoping against hope that just this once they won’t notice me.  hey won’T be waiting.  Lurking.  I still limp from when they broke my legs.  Both of them at the same time.  It still hurts so much.  An accident.  And those bullies just stared dead at me with smirks on their faces because they knew I would be too much of a coward to say otherwise.  I try really hard not to use the bathroom all day, not drinking at all because going into the restrooms holds its own particular kind of hell if they catch me there.  I can’t concentrate.  My grades are slipping.  I am slipping.  In my mind I still hear all the kids laughing at me as they call me names, trip me, hit me, and whatever else they can think to do to me.  They call me “homo,” and “moron,” and “loser” and worse.  They pushed my face into a toilet at school right after one of them had used it.  They pushed my face right into their mess and then high-fived each other and laughed as I cried and puked my guts out.  I awaken each morning from my nightmares which are still kinder than my daily reality.  I slide from nightmare to waking daymare to nightmare to waking daymare in an endless circuitous prison.  Whoever coined, “TGIF,” had no idea what it is really like when Friday marks the only respite in my life from constant terror and humiliation.  I live for weekends and vacations, but a dark cloud always looms larger and larger the closer the day  comes when I must return to school.  My mom complains about me spending more and more time alone in my room.  It has become my haven that guards my secret torment.  It harbors my secret tears of rage and shame.  I weep in a silent scream into my pillow as my mind turns constantly over the same tracks of self-dialogue relentlessly beating and crashing against my soul.

Emo Boy

“I can’t take it anymore!  I hate them!  Why do they have to keep picking on me?  Why can’t they leave me alone?  Because I am a big loser!  I’m a loser just like they say.  I am a fat, ugly, stupid loser!”  I rock with the pain moving to some ancient,  wailing rhythm from a siren of destruction only I can hear.  I am slipping further and further inside myself, retreating from this world into a place of lost reality and agony from which one day I will not be able to return.  “I hate myself! I hate myself!  I am such a waste of space!  I wish I was dead!  I can’t do this anymore!  I can’t go back!  God, don’t let my mom find out!  Oh, I am so ashamed!  I am such a wimp; I can’t make them stop!  I just want to die!  Just let me die, God!  Please.  I want to die.”My world grows darker each day as I struggle to hang on until one day, I just can’t take it anymore.  I take all their hate and turn it in on myself with all the rage I have slowly, silently, lethally felt building deep below the surface.

Then everyone will ask, “How could we not have known how bad it was?  We missed all the signs.  Everything seemed okay. I looked like I was handling things ok.  How could I do it?  Why didn’t we help?  Why didn’t we realize?”

grave stone

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A Bully Free Zone sign - School in Berea, Ohio

A Bully Free Zone sign - School in Berea, Ohio (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Today I attended an anti-bullying rally, walk, and party at my daughter’s school.  I commend highly all the students, families, and school personnel that were present.  Accolades especially to Channel 15, here in South Carolina, who realized it was an event worthy of some coverage.  That being said, I must admit that I was shocked and disappointed by the attendance.  All schools from  primary through high school were involved.  I expected there to be an enormous turn-out for such an important event.  I expected families to realize how horrible bullying in this country has become and to welcome this opportunity as a teaching opportunity to instill values in their kids.  No wonder there is such a problem when more families cannot take a few hours on a Saturday to come out and show their kids that they do not tolerate these or any other types of hate crimes.  And yes, I said crimes.

Bullying is different in some crucial ways than it was when I was a kid.  It is often no longer one-on-one, but a gang of childrenon one child.  It is no longer name-calling and maybe a scuffle or fist-fight.  It is daily torment.  It is facing assault and battery every day.  Can you imagine trying to work under such conditions?  It is broken bones from toilet seats being slammed on your fingers, or being pushed so fiercely, you break your ankles.  It is having your face pushed in a used toilet into someone elses’ feces.  This is horrifying to me that children are committing these crimes on children, and you need to be aware that it is an epidemic in our society.

this is my own version of what bullying looks like

this is my own version of what bullying looks like (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If you think your child has never been bullied, sadly, you are probably wrong.  They were probably too humiliated to share the problem with you or don’t think you can do anything about it.  Children are killing themselves every single day because they can no longer take the daily punishment they undergo at the hands of these bullies.  Our kids are committing suicideand we sleep in on a Saturday morning instead of using the opportunity to take a stand and make a difference.

My kids didn’t want to go.  I made them go.  And we had a great time.  But I will tell you something else.  We listened to some other kids and parents describe unbelievable acts of hatred and violence and my kids realized where that bullying behavior can go if not stopped and stopped immediately.  We all felt our hearts hurt and they know, more than ever before, exactly where I stand on the subject.  My kids would never stand by and watch another child get bullied without intervening, even if they can only report it.  They know it is wrong.  Have you talked to your kids about bullying?  Have you asked what they have witnessed at school?  Because I guarantee you they have witnessed it.  Have you had the guts to ask if they have ever been bullied or bullied someone else?  I welcome your input on this topic and look forward to discussing this further on my blog.  Being bullied is not a “character builder.”  It is a crime.  How do you think it should be dealt with?  What can we do as families, as parents, as school personnel and as a community to end this violence?  Check back as I explore the dynamics of helping our kids learn to accept themselves and others in a healthy way, how to overcome being bullied, and how to overcome being a bully!

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