Bullies

All this news coverage of recent bullying suicides has stirred up a lot of emotions for me. It doesn't help that my lovely niece is dealing with this issue as a sixth grader moving up to middle school. It's so severe she's had bruises on her arms and she's scared to go to school. Bullies suck! It doesn't matter the reason why a person is bullied; the end result is the same. The victim feels helpless and hopeless, and that is a terrible feeling.

I was a victim of bullying on two separate occasions in high school. Both left me feeling hopeless and inferior and likely led to my issues of low self-esteem which I still grapple with today. Like my niece, the first incident was after leaving behind a comfortable previous school to go to a bigger, scarier school only mine happened in the ninth grade. It couldn't have occurred at a worse time for me. I was already dealing with vast changes in my life. To no longer feel safe at school was like the final straw for me. The girls bullying me made fun of my clothes, my hair, called me a goody-goody tattletale, blamed me for something I never did, and threatened to beat me up virtually every day. They were older- juniors and seniors- and unfortunately in my chorus class so I had to see them on a daily basis. It finally came to a head the day someone threw gum in my hair during the middle of class; I broke down in tears, and a friend had to cut a chunk of my hair out to get rid of the gum. I never told the teacher (or anyone really because I was scared); though, I trusted the teacher implicitly and know she would have helped. Such is the pattern for the victim; they're just afraid to speak up.

The second incident was far more traumatic to me because this time it was friends. To say I was a serial crusher and dater with no long-term relationships in high school would be the understatement of the 80s where I am concerned. But when I fell, I fell hard (for a very brief period of time). After a crush fell through in a particularly ugly way, alliances were created. The ones who turned against me turned hard. They were vicious. Ugly notes were sent. Threats were made. They routinely called me a cow in the hallways- once again, fueling weight/body issues which linger today. They called me other names- like airhead (arguably true but hurtful nonetheless), stupid, ugly, etc. Since, I was a fairly meek person, I rarely stood up for myself. I was truly scared someone was going to beat me up. I suffered from stress-induced asthma and missed school because of it. In addition, I also faked asthma attacks just to get out of going to school. I hated, absolutely HATED, walking the hallways. I never knew when someone might come up to me threaten me or call me names. For a long time, that three-month period was the worst experience of my life. That is no longer the case, but yet it's still a vividly painful period of my life.

So with that, I'll simply say this. Bullies suck ass! It's that plain and simple. If you have children, I hope you teach them that bullying is unacceptable- that they should never do it nor play any role in it. If you know someone is being bullied, staying silent and doing nothing is part of the problem. The only way to end this is to stand united against it.

The Power of Words

I've always known words were powerful. This isn't hard to grasp as a child. I would venture to say that most children learn it on the playground at some point. Oh, there are those special few who stay above the fray and get to do all the taunting, but I think most fall victim to words at some time or another.

Over the course of adulthood, I would see things that reminded me of that power, but it was mostly fleeting. There was the occasional "I wish I hadn't said that" or "God, why did I push ______ into saying that; I didn't really want to hear it," but generally it wasn't harmful to my well-being in any long-term way.

Thanks to the Internets, I became reacquainted with the power of words when I joined my first message board. This was a real eye-opener! I learned a lot about the power of anonymity, trust, and myself. I never thought I 'd be the sort to get sucked into drama, but boy I did. And in the process, I crashed and burned. Perhaps it was partially the timing of it all. It coincided with my law school debacle, and I wasn't exactly in my prime (to put it mildly). I did a few vicious, under-handed things, trusted the wrong people, and got blamed for even more under-handed things I never did. But still, I came out of it smarter, unscathed though with a bruised ego perhaps, and with even more on-line friends than I ever imagined I'd have so it was all for the good.

Lately, with the popularity of Facebook, I'm finding a new power in words, and it mostly has to do with syntax and choice of wording. I am amazed by the authority with which people brand others and things. It's made me even more careful in how I choose words. I think I was pretty considerate of others' feelings before, but I am definitely more so now. I don't know if it's not caring, thoughtlessness, or what, but I find myself having to just ignore the groups people join, the things they "like" or the posts they create or it would truly get to me. Perhaps I care too much about what people think, perhaps I give others too much power, or maybe I expect better and routinely find myself being disappointed by people. Or maybe it's all three. And now, I'll give you a few examples.

I would never ever, EVER, join a group condemning all Republicans. In fact, I am overly careful in making sure I only join groups mocking elected officials or people in the public eye. I have no problem voicing my complete and utter disdain for Sarah Palin. Likewise, I think it's funny that groups like "can this pickle get more fans than Barack Obama?" or "Can this poodle with an aluminum hat get more fans than Glenn Beck?" (I joined that one, heh heh) exist. What gets me is the number of my FB friends who have joined a group (or liked) called something to the effect of "Democrats are stupid." It's not referring only to politicians. I am a Democrat. You are talking about ME when you become a part of that. Likewise, I have never ever been so disappointed in so many people than when I saw people joining or liking that group that prayed for Barack Obama's death. That was insane. Yes, I remember who joined. I doubt I could ever forget. And yes, it forever changed my perception of the kind of person he or she is. I hope the "joke" was worth it. I am an opinionated person when it comes to politics. But I can safely say that I believe I am a better person than many I see on FB. I never once wished for George W. Bush's death even though I couldn't stand him for most of his presidency, nor would I even join anything proclaiming all Republicans are dumb.

Which brings me to my next point: debates. I *love* a few of my more outspoken conservative friends who can stay above the fray and debate me on issues. It has gotten more than a little heated a few times, but it's generally polite. I love that they counter me with facts and reasons for their beliefs and usually don't turn to ridiculous talking points. Conversely, there are at least two that I won't even bother with any longer. They are rude, condescending, and simply not worth my time. For example, during the healthcare debate, one wrote a lengthy post of their views. I countered with a polite view of mine. I wanted a good debate. I got a inane Fox News talking point du jour "Someone's been drinking the Kool-Aid." Ooohh, burn.... There is really no use in even attempting to talk to such people. Their minds are so closed a chainsaw couldn't open it. I know I have better people to talk to anyway.

Lastly, opinions... Everyone has them. What bothers me is the visceral ferocity of some. I don't like ZZ Top. It's really that simple. One day I might have reason to state this on FB, and I will do so just as I just did. What I won't say is "ZZ Top is the crappiest, most worthless group ever created." Why? Some of my friends may like them. Maybe I shouldn't care, but it bothers me a great deal when someone goes off on this diatribe condemning something I like. It makes me feel irrelevant or more importantly stupid because I do like them. But maybe, that's my problem. I don't know... Maybe I shouldn't care. But I do.

Sucker-punched by Song Lyrics

Have you ever had a song that just moved you beyond words? I have one that has haunted me for several years now. The first time I heard it, I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. Each and every time I hear it, I still think about this one event/person. I remember it like it was yesterday and have never gotten over it. I replay that evening in my head and try to imagine how different things might be if I had reacted differently. I froze. It's that simple. I froze and did nothing. I play the "what if" game in my head. It's not exactly about not being happy where I am now or anything like that because in some ways, I know I am where I need to be, and I mightn't have my beautiful children if I had made a different decision. The song just symbolizes a lost moment and the what ifs that resulted from it. It is simply one unforgettable moment in time. I know Linda Perry, the Dixie Chicks, et. al. had one event in mind when it was written, but wow, they nailed me as well. I wasn't exactly a kid as the song starts, but I was young and naive. This will forever be one of my favorite songs, and I doubt I'll ever escape the meaning it holds for me. Does anyone else have a song that gets to them as this one does me? I'd love to hear about it...

Voice Inside My Head

I was only a kid
When I said goodbye to you
Ten summers ago
But it feels like yesterday

Lost, scared and alone
Nothing I could give to you
I tried, I really did
But I couldn't find another way

And I want and I need
Somehow to believe
In the choice I made
Am I better off this way

I can hear the voice inside my head
Saying you should be with me instead
Every time I'm feeling down, I wonder
What would it be like with you around

So I, I made my way
Cold and roaming in the wild
I'm forever changed
By someone I never knew

Now I've, I've got a place
I've got a husband and a child
But I'll never forget
What I've given up in you

And I want, I need
Somehow to believe
In the choice I made
Am I better off this way

I can hear the voice inside my head
Saying you should be with me instead
Every time I'm feeling down, I wonder
What would it be like with you around

And I want, I need
Somehow to believe
In the choice I made
Am I better off this way

I can hear the voice inside my head
Saying you should be with me instead
Every time I'm feeling down
I wonder what would it be like with you around
What would life be like with you around...

Paul McCartney

When I saw Paul in concert in 2002, I cried. When I say cry, I mean truly broke down in tears. After a myriad of concerts totaling at least 30 shows, he is the only one who has ever brought me to tears. I imagine there are two reasons, the first being I have loved Paul and The Beatles since I was old enough to understand music. I grew up with my rock-n-roller dad listening to music every Saturday morning. I didn't always appreciate his selections, but any variation of The Beatles or subsequent solo careers got a thumbs up from me.

The second reason I cried was my dad, and this will require some background history to understand. My disclaimer is you may not believe this story. It seems far-fetched. My grandfather ruefully told me this story when I was quite young. I was skeptical until I asked my dad and saw his reaction. Over the years, the story has been confirmed by my uncles, the facts have never swayed, and my grandmother told me about fifteen years ago it was one of her biggest regrets. So I have no reason to doubt the veracity. My dad was a Beatles fan from day one of their U.S. invasion. When he heard they were touring and coming to Fulton County Stadium in Atlanta, he was an ecstatic thirteen-year old. He listened to the radio for days upon days, won two tickets to the concert, and intended to take his cousin, Carl. On the day of the concert, no one would take them. He ripped up the tickets in anger and never got to see his beloved group. I think he always held out hope he would one day see them. I distinctly remember my dad walking into our living room after the evening of December 8, 1980. He could barely speak. He uttered these words through tears, "John Lennon was shot and killed last night." There was a defeated look to him, and I later realized it was twofold- he had lost his hero, and his dream of ever seeing his childhood idols was forever gone. Then December 1, 2001 less than a year prior to this concert, the world lost George Harrison as well. As I sat next to my dad at the concert and Paul walked out, I saw him crying and knew this was the closest thing he would ever get to realizing those Beatles' tickets lost long ago. Every emotion and memory he held of The Beatles came out at that culminating moment. And I felt it for him because I probably understand his love for this band as much as he.

I cannot define how much music and particularly The Beatles fuel my life. Seeing Paul McCartney for the first time with my father was my destiny. It was a bittersweet memory forever etched in my brain. Last night, I walked into the concert with my husband on my arm. Instead of tears, I had a ridiculous grin on my face as the show began. There was no regret- just excitement. And it was an incredible show- better than the first. However, I get the impression if I ever see him again, it will indeed be better. I think it's the nature of the beast that my rabid delight in all things Beatles will always find the most recent event the best. And trust me, if the opportunity arises to see him again, I will.