The Heart of A Child

Tonight, inspired by our friends over at Chocolate and A Pen, I want to share a story with you.

As a kid, I moved three times before finally getting to stick with a school. In kindergarten and first grade I attended a small country school. I had many friends and I loved my teachers. I think you'd be hard-pressed to find a kid, at least from my generation, who had a bad kindergarten/first grade experience. In the second grade we moved and I went to a bigger, in town, school. Being the new kid always sucks. Unfortunately for me, I was also socially awkward. I've always been the geeky girl, it's just who I am. At first, I had no friends. I was sure, once the year wore on, that would change. By the time I was bringing my stuffed animals to school so I would have someone to play with at recess it was painfully obvious that was not the case. I eventually made a few friends and, after the third grade, I moved again.

The fourth grade found me at South Vienna Elementary, the school I would get to call my own. On the first day I found a group of friends that have stuck with me to this day. When I walked into the cafeteria for lunch I shyly looked around for a seat finding the only table with room was beside a girl in blue shorts/overalls and the longest braid I have ever seen. Little did I know that girl would remain my friend well into my adult life. My first experience with real bullying came about when I made friends with a couple of girls. They were close friends and they brought me in. I was so excited. Shortly into the friendship they started fighting. Using me as a go between, they said hurtful things to each other. Eventually, they made up and turned on me.

After that first experience I was bullied constantly. Between grades 5 and 8 my mom had to change our phone number six times because a group of girls I used to be friends with had started calling me and saying the most hurtful things to me. I'm still not sure why I didn't just hang up. Why did I just stand there listening to them in shock? By the seventh grade, it became clear that my small group of friends were my only ally. I would never be the popular girl, not that I had ever really wanted that, but being an outcast was never something I had expected to be.

By eighth grade things had gotten so bad that I had begun coming home in tears everyday. I was called pizza face, told I looked like a boy, despite it being OBVIOUS I wasn't, called names, pushed. At that point I had very little self worth. Not everyone rebounds from this kind of treatment. Hell, I still have issues from it.

Add to this scenario a best friend, remember the girl with the braid, who was also viciously bullied and it's a heavy situation. I cannot tell you the number of nights I've sat with her while she cried, the times I've stood up for her when she couldn't stand up for herself. All the ways I have been her soul when her own had fled to the shadows.

Last night, in my area, an 11 year old girl took matters into her own hands. Because she couldn't stop the bullying, she stopped living.

When children are bullying other children to death at the age of 11 we need to, as a society, take a good long look at ourselves. A child should never feel so alone and broken that the only way out is death. This is completely unacceptable to me. I feel her pain. I know what it's like to get up and feel like your body is made of lead because you know that all you have to look forward to that day is the endless jabs. I've seen the devastation it leaves behind in others.

How did this happen? When did children stop being innocent and start eating each other alive? Our society used to be based on community. My Great-Grandpa lost an arm in a corn husker accident. While he recovered the neighbors brought in his crop. That kind of stuff doesn't happen a lot in our world.

It's time to end this insanity. The zero tolerance policies often blow back in the victims face, not the bullies. Parents seem to be apathetic to how their child is treating others. It's time to bring back the innocence of our children. I don't want to live in a world where this generation is in charge. So many of them are so quick to spew hatred without ever trying to understand or forgive.

I look at my sweet, loving, kind nine year old son and I see the pattern repeating. He's been kicked in the back, pushed, called names, and told Santa wasn't real. The sad part is that he has a developmental delay and will protect the bullies, trying his damnedest to convince me they were just playing so I won't go to the principal. I lucked out. He goes to the same school I attended and the principal was my seventh grade science teacher.

Mr. Justice is an amazing man. There has never been someone more suited to their job. When he walks down the halls the children's faces light up and they give him high fives and hugs. I will forever be grateful to the man for helping protect my child. I have no doubt my son is safe. I can go to him with any concern.

This world needs more Mr. Justices.

Please help me take a stand against bullying. If you were bullied as a child and have a blog please share your story. Lets send a message to the children who are struggling. You CAN survive and things WILL get better. You will not always feel lost in a dense fog in the dark night. Eventually you will find yourself and see that you were there all along.

Those of us born of fire can rarely be extinguished. We may sputter and burn dimly for a time, but soon our flame returns and we blind others with our resilient hearts. Though you may be burning low now, believe me you will burn as brightly as a star.


Angry Gril