Bullies @ MindSay

   

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Evidence? (I'm going to miss getting emails from Mark w/ that as subj line)
Gee, I wonder if he's had any experience with this... (it actually broke my heart when I found this poem today.  Everyone wrote things similar to this, but this one, especially knowing that he is ALWAYS being picked on...)

BULLIES - by Chris

Bullies
Unreasonable
Lawless
Languish
Ignorant
Enemies
Sad

And now, I feel completely justified that I went on for SIX PAGES this weekend about 'Chris would do better, have confidence, and finally learn to read if he was in a classroom where kids didn't beat him up and make him feel terrible all the time'.

I hate that I'm NOT Superwoman; that I am acutally pretty powerless to save my kids from these terrible situations.  That I will compliment them to no end, and then they go home and have a mother who calls them stupid.  That William can write a poem with the line '4 sisters and a brother who is up in heaven' and that the brother's suicide anniversary is right about now, or that one of my boys hasn't been seen in 2 weeks because he has to be on medication to rid him of the skin disease he contracted from not bathing...
I wish people would stop reading People Magazine and wasting money on designer clothes and instead help fix the school systems.  To stop and think about what is REALLY important in life.
 
 
   
 

Blog 10. [Depressed] --- Not much can be said.

Dixie currently feels:

Depressed Smiley

 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

I'm not happy today.

 

The day has gone by so slowly.

How I despise Mondays.

 

The only good thing about today was that my Science teacher wasn't in.

As a result, I only did one question, and spent the rest of the lesson talking with Nazia.

 

I AM SO SICK OF THEORETICAL YIELD.

 

It's more Maths than anything.

And I HATE Maths.

Screw Maths up the backside with a calculator.

I don't need to be doing Maths in SCIENCE.

Leave me alone, you poxy numbers.

 

 

From the end of first lesson, to before I left the library - I had a safety-pin stuck in my glasses.

I clipped it round the right branch, next to my eyebrow.

 

Eighteen people commented.

I did it for the pure crack.

I wanted to see how many people would notice.

 

Nazia found it really funny.

My Maths teacher was confused.

My Geography teacher was bewildered.

Our librarian smiled at me - as she always does.

 

I didn't smile back.

I'm not in the mood to smile today.

 

I'm sick of people using my weaknesses against me.

So sick of being ignored.

So sick of being left alone.

So sick of people rubbing how good their lives are in my face.

 

Sick of the preps talking about insignificant matters.

The world is a terrible place - awful things are happening. Nobody cares.

 

I miss Emily.

I need her back.

 
 
 

   
A Little Story for the Little People

I had an interesting childhood. I fought all of the time. So much so that my elementary school assistant principal still refers to me as “the fighter”. Don’t think that I was a bully. That is not at all the case. I loathed those who picked on weaker kids and it was, in fact, those bullies that I sought out. You might say I was an equalizer.

 

My parents were, to say the least, disturbed by my behavior. My father was beside himself as spankings would not change my behavior. I felt convicted. It wasn’t until he saw my birthday party was populated by “misfits” (handicapped, small children, “goofy” children, etc) that he began to understand. When they each told him how, on one occasion or another, I had defended them; my big ol’ dad seemed a little misty eyed.

 

It was often that I would find myself in the principal’s office where the secretary would often listen at the door to hear my legalistic excuses for fisticuffs. It always seemed, on paper, to have been instigated by the other guy.  Fourteen fights between 3rd and 8th grade and it was always the other guys fault. And getting decent grade the whole time.

 

Once this had gone on for a while, I would be greeted by the principal with “what now!?” and I would smile and deliver one of my prize winning opening statements. The big bruisers that I defeated soon learned to walk away from me and to not pester those that I cared about.

 

I know. I know. Some of you legitimate women are going to wonder why I wouldn’t just talk it out with the other kids. Heck, if I though they wanted to talk, I would have talked with them. And some of you feminized men (versus legitimate women) are going to wonder the same thing. Same answer.

 

What do I have to show for it? The pride in knowing that, pain not withstanding, I will always do the right thing, twelve stitches under my eye, a broken toe, bruised ribs and dried up tears.

 
 
   
 

Won't You Please Go Away?
The Washington Business Journal reports that anti-war activists, led by Cindy Sheehan, protested a press conference being held by Democratic Caucus Chairman Rahn Emanuel. Rep. Emanuel (D-IL), the fourth highest ranking Democrat in the House of Representatives, was holding the press conference to discuss the Democratic proposals on lobbying reform.

Emanuel finally gave up trying to be heard over the chants, and retreated to a caucus room where Democrats were meeting.

Sheehan says she has nothing against lobbying reform, but she and her fellow anti-war activists want Democrats to know they will keep pressuring Congress to end the war in Iraq.

A few comments on this should suffice. First, one only need to mention the names of Jack Abramoff and Duke Cunningham to demonstrate how important the issue of lobbying reform is. The Republican-run House of Representatives showed how desperately meaningful reform is needed. For Sheehan to attempt to attract attention away from serious reform proposals is shameful.

Secondly, Sheehan's tactics of pressuring the Congress to end the war are misplaced. The Legislative Branch of the Federal government has almost no role in the crafting and implimentation of foreign policy. Since no credible individual is advocating that the Congress cut the funding for the War in Iraq, there's not much that can be done by the Democratic Congress.

Finally, Sheehan demonstrates that she is cut from the same cloth as the Administration cheerleaders who shout down anyone who would question the President and his handling of the war. By preventing Rahm Emanuel from conducting his press conference, Sheehan and her crowd embrace the bullying and anti-free speech tactics of their political opponents.
 
 
 

   
I think maybe I should clarify...
I am none of the people in the story in the previous post. But I can identify with the boy wearing the glasses.

As a kid, I was extremely shy and quiet. I was the girl in the corner hiding behind her book or her hair (I had long hair that I used to cover half of my face). The girl who rarely made eye contact with anyone. The girl you had to strain to hear.

To most people, I wasn't even there. Not a blimp on the radar. To some, I was the quiet kid that you'd be nice to because she posed no threat to you or maybe just because YOU are a nice person. But I got made fun of quite a bit to.

Up until high school, I wasn't exactly a stunner by any stretch of the imagination. I was missing my two front teeth for ages (they got knocked out in an accident), then when they grew in, it seemed like my teeth were too big for my face. I had (and still have) a high forehead that I got made fun of for. I was stick thin and all scabbed up knees and elbows. My mom gave me horrid haircuts, some that were so bad I would get mistaken for a boy. I was also 'pigeoned toed', that thing were your feet turn in. I think I got made fun of more for that than for anything. Oddly enough, Eternity is also pigeoned toed, but no one makes fun of her for it, thank goddess.

My parents weren't rich by any stretch of the imagination.  I never wore clothes or shoes that were 'in style' and it didn't really bother me that I couldn't. 

It never made any sense to me why people made fun of me for things that I couldn't help.  The girls were the worst, as I think girls often are.  Boys teased me too, but usually as soon as they got me to blush they left me alone.  It's usually the girls who are vicious, especially to other girls.  And a lot of times it was the girls who were pretty, popular, who seemed to have everything.  I couldn't understand what threat I could possible be to these girls.  I still don't get it.  Why so often it's the pretty popular kids who are cruel to others.

Eventually I hit high school and grew into my teeth and feet and facial features.  I was still quiet, still somewhat shy, and by no means popular or what was considered beautiful.  I still got teased on occasion, but not as much.  I rarely stood up for myself, but I can at least say that I was never the kid that made fun of others.

The boy in the story, not the boy with the glasses, but the one who befriended him, could have ended up never having known what his random act of kindness did.  And when you stop to be nice to someone you never know, you could be saving someone elses life.
 
 
   
 

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