The Book of the Turned Down Pages

Normally a book review would go on the Book Review page - the one that's been even more neglected then the blog itself. But this time, this one time, the book review has as much to do with life as it does with the book. 

I'm not sure how to attend the book club gathering on Friday night. I just joined it, and the second book assigned has turned me into a quivering, sobbing mess. How do you approach a group of women you barely know to discuss something you lived through, that maybe they didn't? Especially when you are still hesitant at any social gathering involving women - because you lived through what the book is about. That's a recommendation for a book, ain't it?

The book is "Wonder" by R.J. Palacio. It tells the story of a fifth grader who has been home schooled, and is attending middle school with other kids for the first time in his life. Sounds like a simple premise until you realize that the book is an elegant rendition of what it is like to be bullied. It starts with the viewpoint of August Pullman, a child with severe facial anomalies. Through the book, it switches to other kids so we get multiple viewpoints of kids.

By page 79, I started turning down pages where I had a story to share. There are a lot of pages turned down. While I didn't have the extremity of issues which August (Auggie) had to deal with, I was bullied pretty much from the time my grown up teeth started coming in. See my grown up teeth acted like children. They went everywhere they could get away with. I had teeth come in where teeth already were, and teeth show up where they weren't supposed to be. My upper jaw grew too much, and my lower jaw not enough. Nothing screams 'make fun of me' better than a ten year old wearing orthodontic head gear to school. Yep, fun times. Even after braces (five years of braces - at a time where very few kids had braces), I had a mile of gum exposed every time I smiled. Any wonder there are very few pictures of me? I ducked, and hid, and often still do. Old habits really can be hard to break. After I was married, my husband was so very supportive of me as I had maxillofacial surgery - in other words, both jaws broken to fix them. Yep - it was that bad.

And this book is the most true depiction of what it is like to be different - the glances, the cruelty, the hurt, the courage it can take to show up somewhere, anywhere. The book amazed me as it so perfectly captured the reactions, and the reality. From the people who are kind to you, just because they think it gives them points, to the ones who are nice to you, and enjoy spending time with you - unless their "cool" group is around...and most importantly it shows the effect true kindness can have.

So I'm recommending this book. Maybe you'll turn down a page and share a story with your kids. Maybe, just maybe it will help.

Evelyn's Precepts - Kindness is a quiet illustration of strength of character.

"You are perfect to me." - Pink

Awful Failure aka Abercrombie & Fitch

By now most of you are aware of the hailstorm caused by the reemergence of a 2006 interview with Abercrombie & Fitch's CEO. There have been a number of articles written, and quite a backlash in comments and tweets and blogs. Here is the quote as reported in the LA Times article, "Abercrombie CEO tries to stem backlash":

"Candidly, we go after the cool kids. We go after the attractive all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends," he said in the article. "A lot of people don't belong [in our clothes], and they can't belong."

It seems that if you are a teen girl who wears a large or extra large in women's clothing - you are not worthy - they don't even carry those sizes. Well, dude, I don't belong in haute couture, and some celebrities don't belong in the outfits that they wear to the awards shows, but really, why did you think it was a good idea to point this out to a segment of the society who are at the time of life where they are particularly vulnerable to others opinions????

Now I do need to add a disclaimer - you had never received any of our money before this. My teenagers are boys, and blissfully uninterested in labels unless wiring and an on/off switch are involved (really, really wish I had bought Apple stock). They are great kids, but not your demographic anyway. They think it's stupid to be so overwhelmed with appearances, and clothing. And I'm proud of that, (except when I make them dress up - Jimi Hendrix t-shirts are not appropriate everywhere). Maybe because it's a lesson I've tried to impart. No one is better than someone else. Someone who can't afford nicer clothes is not a lesser person. We all have our talents, and our faults.

Your lesson seems to be - buy our brand and be seen as a cool kid. If you're a fat girl - you aren't worthy. *&(&^%$^&*@##$%$@@! (please interpret the preceding with your favorite curses). HAVE YOU NEVER HEARD OF EATING DISORDERS? 

"THEY CAN'T BELONG".....&^%$#!%^@^&^&&&&@!@##$@@@!##$$$%%%%

Once again, I struggle to keep this a PG blog. Now I refuse to take part in the vicious comments I've seen regarding the CEO's own looks. Two wrongs don't make a right. And as an accountant, I understand the business sense in having a niche and sticking with it. But as a human being, I will never comprehend the need to dismiss others based on the outside appearance.

It seems your stock has not taken the pounding it deserves, and most analysts believe the teenagers will ignore or dismiss this and continue to shop at your stores. Maybe. And maybe the next generation won't - because maybe the next generation will be parented by those kids who weren't worthy. And maybe they'll remember how it felt to be excluded. My husband hates when I discuss how I was bullied. Because he loves me, and hates to hear about the pain. But I think the pain has made me a more compassionate and empathetic person. I remember being excluded. And I hope these kids remember it, too. It's a lesson worth remembering.

Let me leave this topic with the lesson I heard growing up - "Pretty is as pretty does." Note the word does, not appears...

Bullies - Go AWAY

Very few of us who follow the news with any regularity have missed the story on the elderly bus monitor in New York. She was bullied and harassed by middle school (MIDDLE SCHOOL) students. If, like me, you have tried to watch the video to see what the hullabaloo was about (here's the link to CNN's article with the video), you may have turned it off before being done. Some of you may have even had the same reaction I did - I cried. 


The video is vile. The language is such that you expect to see either a rap star or Mel Gibson at any moment. Certainly not kids. Definitely not kids in the same age range as my own children. But the language is not the worst of it. The taunts, the cruelty, the threats - there lies bullying at its normal. Bullies seek to attack your vulnerabilities. They want to put you in your place and in their minds that place is one of humiliation.


I was bullied. I know what it is to have people call me cruel names, and, threaten to beat me up, follow me home... you wonder if bullies are given a book, "How to Intimidate and Threaten". In fact I was beat up twice in one year. Once on the bus. Once while waiting for a late bus to arrive. After the second beating, my parents began driving me to and from school (No judgement - they had been assured it would never happen again. Three kids, two jobs - not sure I wouldn't have trusted the school, also).


Of course all that really meant was the bullies had to wait until I GOT to school to start. When I watched the video, our rising 9th grader watched some of it with me. He stopped before I did. You would think an Honors English student could come up with a better word, but he didn't. He called them "douche bags". Never have I been prouder of his language, though. I know that I don't KNOW everything our teens may say and do. But since they were young, I've discussed bullying with them. We have a saying, Momma is intolerant of intolerance. You are not to make fun of someone's appearance, religion, sexual orientation, mental capabilities... Of course, they're also aware that if I caught them....


I am at a loss as to what we can do, but these children need help. And society needs help, if it allows our youth to be this vile. Some of the people who bullied me are now your basic middle aged person not out to hurt anyone. So we can all change. As for me, being bullied taught me empathy. But it would have been nice to have picked up empathy in some other way without kissing the floor of the bus.

Last Night I Heard the Screaming…

Memorial Day is a day to remember those who gave unselfishly to make our world a better place, but this weekend many families will not have been focusing on those fallen in combat but on their own wars, the wars of domestic battles.

Friday last week, one woman's tragic death filled the news programs here in North Carolina. She had lost her life at the hands of the ultimate bully, her husband. She had been waiting outside an elementary school for her two children when her husband gunned her down. The report said that the incident was the result of a domestic issue.

Some would argue that the man (I would not necessarily call him that, but that is my opinion) just cracked, like an egg. But, to wait for someone and shoot them in cold blood is no egg, it is a monster. Me, I would say he was demented. I don't mean to sound harsh, it is just that the reality of domestic violence is everywhere, affecting innocent individuals, making their lives a living hell.

There is a poignant song sung by Tracy Chapman (linked below) that sums up what happens all too often. People try to ignore the signs of domestic abuse, not because they don't care but because they find it hard to accept that these horrible things are happening to people around them. We don't like to interfere in other people's lives, we are afraid that we will be known as busybodies.

Most women, who find themselves in a violent household, try to hide it. Their fear of being found out rules their world. They feel like a failure and when we ignore the all too clear hints or signs, we add to that feeling, confirming their damaged opinion of themselves. The current statistics on domestic violence show this is a HUGE problem and getting bigger by the year.

Every 9 seconds a woman in the US is assaulted or beaten. Every day three women die, murdered by a husband or boyfriend. Imagine how many women are being hurt as you read this article. It is a frightening thought.

Around the world, one in three women will experience some form of violence in their lifetime, predominately carried out by a member of their own family. That very same family who is supposed to protect them becomes their nightmare. In addition, in those families, studies suggest that around ten million children will witness those acts. It is a proven fact that those children are twice as likely to become themselves adult abusers. The cycle goes on and on, snowballing, and never ending.

We cannot eradicate domestic violence, just like we can't control our enemies, but it is time to help, time to stand up and be a busybody when we get the instinct something is wrong. We have neighborhood watches to protect our properties from crime with people who will not hesitate to call the police if they see suspicious behavior, yet many of those same people will turn a blind eye to a domestic issue just because it is not their business.

Well, let's make it our business and protect those who need it because you never know, one day, it just might be your daughter or granddaughter who needs that help. I urge you to keep aware, look for the signs, and assist. I am not suggesting becoming vigilantes, just asking for some extra community care. After all, one word in the right direction could save a precious life and keep innocent children from losing a parent.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1iUoqTaowaI ,

My Bully Pulpit

By Sheilah

Sometimes the class bully doesn’t look the part. Sometimes he’s the little guy with glasses and a nonstop tongue. Sometimes he’s the annoying one who won’t stop talking, who gets in your face blabbing, who pokes and prods and is like a rash that spreads its contagion. Dylan’s class has one. He’s the guy last year that I heard about all the time, how everyone avoided him, and my response was to be nice to him because no one else was. Wrong move.

This year, the little guy still lacks impulse control, a closed mouth. The problem kid gets sent to the principal’s office all the time for something, won’t stop talking back or stating his case to the teacher. When he’s gone, Dylan says the teacher tells the class to remove themselves from the situation. My thinking was it’s beyond that--that “the Situation” needs to be removed.

So one day the Situation threw some punches at Dylan on the playground, and Dylan threw a foot back where it hurts, according to my son. So I talked to the teacher. I told her I wanted them separated, and she said they are, that the other kid (aka the Situation) has “issues.” But, get this, she said they’ve been playing together all year, that they wrestle, that sometimes it gets out of hand. She said she was going to talk to them this morning about what punishment they could come up with in lieu of going to the principal’s office for the playground incident in which they both were at fault. I said, huh, oh, I forgot that I have to take what kids say with a grain of salt.

Ironically enough, I was telling Dylan on the way to school that same day that one day he’d be in the principal’s office, and then how would he act? I suggested that he be calm, courteous, answer questions, and then shut up—and accept the punishment quietly. I said his behavior screams louder than his words. They were not sent together to the principal for that offense; they just had to agree to keep their hands off each other.  

The next day, according to the gospel of Dylan, the Situation kicks him under the lunch table, and Dylan tells on him. Then Dylan says he got shoved into the Situation in line (guess the teacher failed to separate them in line order), and he gets told on. I said enough of this--you’re like squabbling siblings. And it definitely takes two to tango, regardless of the Situation’s “issues.” I told Dylan I didn’t want to hear about tattling again, and that it was his job to ignore, move, etc. You can’t have it both ways—you can’t play together and then when it gets rough go tell on him, expecting it  always to be the Situation’s fault.

I suggested he spy in his little mind’s eye the Situation with a diaper on, imagine him as a little pestering brother who needs to be ignored. Dylan has to be the mature one and rise above it. I realize that as an only child Dylan hasn’t had a chance to learn the important skills of negotiation, neglect, avoidance, and rivalry resolution that others do—or the sneaky things to do to piss your sibling off where it hurts—like crossing out her David Cassidy poster, which I’ve been known to do. He liked the image of imagining the Situation in diapers. It’s been a week and I haven’t heard a tattle tale-ing tale yet, so maybe the brothers are working it out.

Chalk one up for something I was taught many years ago: Imagine the man you resent with a head wound, visualize him with a bandaged head—because he truly is a sick person (as we all are, to some degree or another). It helps you see your brother in a different light, and sometimes your brother’s head wound really is bleeding, and sometimes his diaper is full.

Bullies - Words Do Hurt

I haven't been honest enough regarding bullying. I wrote "A Kind Place to Sit" as a way to pay tribute to the people who didn't bully. But the reverberations of being bullied can continue on through your life. I am a 50 year old wife and mother. I have a very satisfying home life with a great husband and typical teenage boys. We have a lovely home, and I have very close friendships. And yet, to this day, when I walk into a room full of women, I am scared. Now intellectually I know that if they dislike me or disapprove, they will resort to the slightly more civilized method of cold politeness, and simply not include me in their gatherings. But it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy that they will not like me because I am too weird or anxious in their presence. Why am I that way? Because I was conditioned from a young age that I would be excluded, made fun of, even circled and teased. So like Pavlov's dog, I expect little and receive less. Being bullied is not something you easily recover from, and as one friend who was also bullied put it - even though I appreciate the adult I became, I can't help but feel that they took something from me. Did you experience bullying? Who terrorizes you? Has it impacted your life? Has it impacted your children's lives? And how do we stop the bullying and exclusion of others? Why do we find it so hard to accept each other as unique and wonderful in our own way?