Striking A Nerve

bulliesSet aside the feelings I have for bad car drivers, and I’ll tell you something else that gets my blood boiling … BULLIES! I’m not quite sure what it is about them, but I have zero tolerance for any type of bullying. It’s such a touchy subject with me, at times I wonder if in a previous life I wasn’t some type of victim or protector of these fragile, innocent preys of bullies. (No, I’m not really into thinking I was in a previous life…it’s just a thing to say!)

I remember a time in high school, there was a girl who was an easy target for a group of mean girls to pick on. Her hair got washed maybe once a week, her skin wasn’t the clearest, and her clothes alternated only a few times. These were the types I enjoyed talking to. It was as though they had the real pulse about what life was truly about. Not the girls who thought all there was to living was to go shopping and having a gas card handed to you, along with the newest make and model car.

It’s almost like war; would there be wars if all the troops had to come together and get to know one another before firing the guns? Then again, if the mean girls were made to engage in conversation with the “normal” ones, perhaps that would only prove how shallow most of the popular ones really were. Something to ponder. Anyway, I digress. One day in class, the mean girls were making fun of the quiet one. Laughing and pointing until I felt my heart leap out from my chest. It banged so hard, it drove me right out of my chair. I was a little amazed about what I knew was happening. Still, I forged right ahead! By now, the bell had rung and the teacher was approaching the front of the class, ready to begin the lesson.

I shoved my chair back with my legs and drove great penetration with my angriest of eyes, toward the mean girls. I, very loudly, said, “Do you all have a problem? Is there something funny you want to let us all in on? Do you think it makes you look big laughing at someone else? Does it make you feel better?” I felt faint as the heat in my core shot up thirty degrees and the walls of the room began to squeeze in on me. But, I didn’t stop staring until they looked down at the floor in shame for what they had been doing. I had made my point.

The teacher asked me if everything was alright. It wasn’t in character for me to act as I was doing, and she figured I must’ve had good reason. I replied that everything was fine, now. Then, I took my seat and heard the sweetest victory bells chiming in my ears. I had called them out. Me! I couldn’t believe I had the gumption, but I did. And, I never felt so good.

So, when this last weekend, I received news that one of the freshman in my son’s high school shot another one and killed him just because he didn’t like him, I became very sad. The parents had told authorities this boy threatened their son’s life, but because there was no law broken, they couldn’t do anything formally about it. Girls would have to walk this boy to class so he wouldn’t be picked on.

On Saturday, the bully took a gun and shot several times, killing the young freshman. He, too, was only sixteen years old. When questioned by police, he was quoted to have said “I would have shot more times, but I ran out of bullets.”

I’m speechless.

Innocence Lost

It’s the way she looks

Imperfect or completely without flaw.

It’s the way he walks

Or talks, or maybe it’s nothing at all.

It’s because of one person;

One person who was never taught,

Everyone is different

They have their own style, have their own thoughts.

Shame should not be inflicted on one perfect life

Just because someone feels the right

Instead, the masses should rise up together

Protect the weak, crush the bullying and fight the fight.

Take the power from the bully

Disable their ability to cause pain

Give back the innocence and life

To the ones who never deserved the shame.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s