On a Not So Special Day…

In October of 2000, I remember going to Eastland Cemetery in Eastland, TX…I found my way to the woman whose suicide I blamed myself for many years…She wasn’t famous.  No one heard of her except the locals who knew of her tirades.  Her name was Judy.  She was my stepmother.  For about 3.5 years, I endured much at her hands but it was on this day that I came to one stark realization.  She could not help her mental illness.  In the last two weeks of her life, she thought she was four years old, and that I was her mother.

For years after her death, I kept asking, what if I had done this? What if I had done that.  The fact of the matter is that it does not matter, especially now. There are two things nobody has control over besides life and death and those things are the past and future. Neither can be changed. However I spent much of my 20’s trying to run from the memories of what went on in my home during the time she was with us. It was rather violent. I got shoved into walls, cabinets, picked up and thrown into one once–and those times were on the days when she wasn’t too pissed off and went off on EVERYONE.

Do I hate her? No.  Do the memories of a pistol getting pointed at my head still haunt me? Yes. That is probably why I never owned a gun. However times change and I do often think about obtaining one now. Please, if you’re into gun control, don’t preach at me. My family hunted for decades and before that my ancestors did also.  Not everyone who owns a gun is a nut-case.

Anyway back to my point.  There is only one thing that enabled me to get beyond the shadows of the past  when it came to her and that was to make this particular trip, on this not so special day to her grave.  It was in the 60’s and the sun was out.  And I stood here for a long time pondering what I would say if she were to stand next to me. It was then I said something very close to this:

This is my stepmother's grave. My father was buried elsewhere

This is my stepmother’s grave. My father was buried elsewhere

 

“It has been many years now. I have done some digging and now I can understand why you were so tormented over several things. Losing your own children and losing two sisters prior took a toll on you. I understand now, Judy. I understand the hell you went through at home as a child too. I forgive you.  I actually forgave you a long time ago but I had to come here to say it. I hope that you are at peace and that you are no longer suffering. I would wish what you endured on nobody now that I have put it together.”

Her suicide took a devastating toll on my emotions all the way through high school and beyond. I buried myself in my writing and my school work. I almost ended up getting into cutting but one of the counselors saw my journal and encouraged me to channel my energy elsewhere.  That was when I picked up a pen.

The chilling remarks when I came back to school after her death were the most cutting. Some new kid asked why anyone would shoot themselves.  My teacher in that class was a coach everyone got pissed at every day it seemed.  As I sat there he said, “I don’t know but women usually don’t go around shooting themselves because they are afraid to mess up their looks.”

I was livid. There is no way he didn’t know about her suicide being that he worked part-time for DPS.  I got up and bolted out of the room.  I stayed home for a couple of days and was in a different class after that. My dad made sure of it.  Even in her death the bullying and idiotic behavior of some of the other students continued as well. I never forgot that either. To them it was all a joke.  Well I hope they enjoyed their years at school afterward, because much of their entertainment came at the expense of others who were broken. This is why I don’t attend class reunions either–along with many others who opt not to show.

It is actually them I feel sad for. Even in adulthood they do not have a clue as to the scars they inflicted with their actions and words, yet most have suffered their own tragedies and seem to forget their past actions.  Ironically, I forgive them too. Some will have much to answer for one day. Until then, I will live my life and continue to work to get questions answered. For Judy, it’s the least I can do. She deserved better than what life dealt her.

 

Kadja Cries When She Sees This…

Even though I am grown, the little girl in me still has her triggers.  This song is one of those triggers.  However it is an important song and every word of it rings true. I can relate to Alyssa, but I was more fortunate. I lived to tell you my story. Please do not wait until it is too late to act on behalf of a child. You might be the only voice that can reach into the right places to save a life.  Please watch the video and don’t go off on religion because what your belief system is isn’t the issue here.  The genre of music you prefer is also not the issue here.  The message of this song is an important one. It was then, and it is now.

I was abused at home and bullied at school.  I know the reality of such an existence and NO child should ever go through the things I have endured.  To this day I do not associate much with former classmates.  Why? They are triggers. They may very well be different people now, but the place and seeing them still triggers memories of a time and a place that made me stronger–but it also made me a very non-trusting individual in my later years.  Some of my classmates are friends, but there are those I avoid for a reason.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nLh5vbBLpxI

Samantha’s Diary… ***Some DS Fan Fiction I’m playing with***

As a little girl, I remained in a Boston private school for girls, thanks to the generosity of Roger Collins and Elizabeth Stoddard.  They have been like surrogate parents to me in my absence from Collinsport for years. Roger always said that I wasn’t facing reality by avoiding going “home”.  But which place was or is home? Is it the house where my mother, Claudette tortured me for the first seven years of my existence, or Collinwood, which was my shelter from many of her storms?

Then there was that place in the mausoleum.  Willie doesn’t even know of it, I think.  I would sneak into there and dream I had a guardian angel watching over me there.  At least I knew my mother would never set foot in the cemetery.  I remember dreaming about that faceless dark angel with a calming voice.  He’d carry me through the woods, teaching me about the birds and trees and such and the sun always shone there. In short, this entity was the phantom father I created in my mind, I suppose.  At least the shrink says as much to me.   I’ve written many songs about filling that gaping hole in my memories as well as my chest.

I somehow learned to write with penmanship from a time gone by. I won awards for it and I still prefer my quill to a fountain pen. I mastered math in my head long before I had access to a calculator.  A large part of me wants to return, and another side of me totally dreads this.  I keep having dreams of a duel, people dying, voices calling my name, and for what purpose? The worst ones are of me drowning in another time and place when I was still quite young, a long dress weighing me down as if it were a ship’s anchor, and something cracking my skull and knocking me out after struggling to come back to the surface.  I always manage to wake up shaking and sweating after those. I fear water so much! Why me? Did my mother damage me so much that I cannot tell what is reality from fantasy any longer?  I’m wondering if the dreams are symbolic.  Whatever. It doesn’t matter at this point.

I know it is time to return to Collinsport.  Elizabeth and Maggie have begged me for months.  I suppose it is time to revisit the grave of the child I once was, and can never be again.  Sometimes an infected wound must be thoroughly drained and cleaned before it can heal.  Hopefully it will not leave a scar that is too noticeable.  At least it is what the one familiar male voice says to me in those damned dreams I have every night as of late.

Only now the dreams are getting stronger, and the voices more clear.  No matter how many psych meds the doctors put me on or how many gigs I do just so I can pass out and sleep after the ambien, they are there…They are waiting for me…It’s only the voice of that dark angel that doesn’t torment me.  All he says to me lately is, “Perhaps you should reconsider this endless journey you are on and come visit your family.  You are every bit a Collins now even if not by blood.” he says.   Funny how Roger and Elizabeth keep reminding me that they do  consider me thus.  There I go–talking like he does.  Dammit I am truly done for the night–until those dreams start-up again…

—S.R.T.  April 3, 1990

School Bullying has gone WAY too far!

I am really sick of high school kids committing crimes and then having it downplayed by the school district‘s labeling it “bullying“. When kids are going around assaulting other kids, sexually harassing them, etc…These are CRIMES adults go to jail for! Stop downplaying this problem by calling it “bullying” and address these crimes against our children for what they truly are–and for you school administrators that downplay this issue–shame on you! You’re not fit to be in charge of any child in a public school environment! Either man up and take care of the thugs or the litigation will after your districts pay some heavy fines! If it’s not stopped there, these kids may end up in prison anyway and you are the ones that wanted a “village” to raise the child…Well man up and do your bloody part! It’s happening under YOUR watch!

Here is a link to a story that should anger every parent whose child has ever been a bullying victim:

http://www.fox10tv.com/dpp/news/mississippi/family-special-needs-student-attacked
This boy is a special needs student. He is paralyzed on one side of his body and has cerebral palsy.  Granted the kid threw a soda can at his attacker after the senior called him a name but we do not know what the victim’s mental age is and such–or even if he had good aim with the can.  If the can was empty, there was no reason to react in such a fashion.  The bottom line is, as a senior, this young man should have been mature enough to set the example for the other students and  to not go off as he did on a person with a disability.  PERIOD. Sorry but while I do think the Stokes boy needs to learn to ignore such crud that is said to him and probably have some anger management therapy, there is absolutely NO EXCUSE for the senior using the force he did to levy such an injurious and brutal attack.

I can assure you that if I were the principal of that school, that senior would at least be in ISS for a while…

I am not a big fan of Fox, CNN or any of the major news networks but when I see this stuff in more than 1 report, and the info matches up on the networks, I am most likely going to express my opinion on the matter.

 

I Am One Pissed Off Mom! CHILD ABUSE SHOULD NEVER, EVER BE TOLERATED!

Before reading this, I need to forewarn you that what you are about to watch is CHILD ABUSE.  This is a form of bullying I endured at home, but I knew the difference between a spanking and a beating.  My dad “spanked” me.  My stepmother would beat me by throwing me into walls and cabinets and such–literally…She picked me up off of the ground and threw me around.  This video rivets me to the core.  The language this man used with this child took me back to my own stepmother’s abuse.   The beating (and yes it is a beating) was totally uncalled for.

As a sergeant in a correctional facility, I saw men in that unit who did serious time for this kind of shit and this guy is a judge?! C’mon! People need to quit defending  Neanderthals like this! He is an animal!  I am brutal and to the point when I make these statements, but I was totally incensed at the cruelty of this man. If he has any minor children left at home, I hope to hell Child Protective Services (CPS) takes steps to protect them.  This was assault and battery of a child–pure and simple. Unfortunately, if this video is 7 years old, they can’t charge him for this beating, but if there are younger children around him, CPS can still investigate–and they should.

IF I were this young woman, this bastard would not come within 2 feet of any child of mine–I promise you that much.  If he did it to her, he’d do it to them.  If you don’t want to watch the video, I’ll understand, but please take my word for it–this guy is so full of bullshit that if he ever got locked up on a charge like that, he would spend his entire time in protective custody for what is on this video.  It is disturbing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wl9y3SIPt7o&feature=youtu.be

A Film About Bullying and What It Can Lead To…

To Start with here is a link to the movie trailer for “Mad World“:  http://www.imdb.com/video/wab/vi618071577/

In the beginning, one is not sure what to make of this film but it touched on several issues that need to be addressed–and most of it came through the verbiage of Will (Dylan Vigus) and Cory (Gary Cairns). While Will is the one telling the story, it is Cory that best expresses what is going on in the mind of a tortured young man in a school where, as it often occurs, faculty completely ignores the issues of bullying and doesn’t even see (or chooses not to see) the signs of a child who is abused at home.
The character of Jevon (James Lee Martinec) is symbolic of the abused child who fell through the cracks of a failed system that is supposedly designed to protect our children–and often does not. I can relate to this character, but not for what is depicted in the film. I had a step mother who loved pointing a pistol at my head and tearing me down psychologically. At other times, she tossed me into walls, cabinets or whatever struck her fancy. Any other abuse I endured was not at the hands of my parents. That is all I will say there, but as I said earlier, if someone who has lived in a situation where they are abused in both environments (home and school) it might be a bit much to watch, so one might want to keep this in mind prior to viewing it.

I grew up in a time where it was one thing to wish the bullies were dead but it was taboo to act on it…The characters in this film were not consumed by video games and such as the far right would like to think. They were consumed by a society that threw them to the gutter and didn’t care–and that is how many bullied children perceive the school environment in this day and age–especially when they are going through crap at home.

This writer merely put all the thoughts, the pain and the horrible things that run through the minds of broken souls and put it on celluloid and for that he is to be commended. Cory Cataldo did a great job of that. Now was that sex scene a bit much? Yes. You will know which one when you watch it. There was more than one scene.

Each character was a piece of a puzzle that fit into a whole. You had Cory–who was actually a very intelligent young man and articulate. You had Jevon who was a resident genius and (like myself) viewed school as a refuge–even though he didn’t quite fit in…Because he made the school “look good” they took an interest in HIM but then threw him to the wolves when he didn’t measure up to what the school’s standard of perfection was. This DOES happen a lot.

Then there is Will. His father is an all around jerk and abuses him daily. Will is also articulate, intelligent and fell through the cracks. He also brings some of the humor to the film (along with Cory). Then you have John (Matthew Thompson) which brings another dimension to the film. He is an African-American student raised by white, adoptive parents. This character suffered the effects of racism and violence in such a way that he felt he had no other options open to him. His monologue after the worst assault he endures will leave you in tears. It is riveting.

The ones playing teachers and administrators were a joke (and there are people like this in life who dismiss the bullying as ‘kids being kids’). These are the types that will sweep what the athletes and such do under a carpet but if a student sneezes in the wrong direction that is not part of that social circle, like vultures, they will all kick that student to the curb–which is what these characters did. Fortunately, my teachers and administrators were NOT like this. They cared and I knew it. Times have drastically changed because many do not seem to care about much more than their paychecks now. Sorry but that is true and this movie seems to touch on it.

This may be a low-budget indie film, but Gary Cairns and the other cast members made it believable–especially to a viewer who lived in a similar situation. I agree with the viewer that felt that the O’Reilly picture was a bit much. There are plenty of bone-headed school administrators in both major parties. Note: Not all people in the south are conservative and not all support the death penalty. This movie could have driven a huge point home to an audience had the political ideology been left completely out.

I really do not consider this to be a dark comedy as much as an art film. It is beautiful when put in that perspective because it attempts to bring new light to old issues. Cory is the greatest voice of teen angst, Jevon of the pain of having to remain silent and to conform to standards and expectations that no boy should have to endure, Will is a voice of reason in the film even though his reasoning seems flawed in some respects and then there is John. The quiet kid who marches to his own drum, until forced to toss it aside and become a different creature altogether. Then again, they all 4 became different creatures–just as any child who is repeatedly bullied and abused can.

For those reasons alone–the touching on the issues and the acting itself,  it is definitely worth watching–but if  the movie “Precious” pissed you off thoroughly, this one might too–and you’ll find out why.  It is incredibly thought-provoking–and serves to remind that bullying is an issue that MUST be addressed at all levels–home, school and in society. Warning: If “Precious” pissed you off, this one might. Trust me.

I Once Again Felt a Chill Down My Spine Today…

This is not going to be a long post, but most of you know the story of my stepmother Judy.  Granted the poor woman was mentally ill, but I didn’t understand that during the time I went through hell with her waiving a gun at my head, throwing me up into the walls and such from the time I was 11 and a few other things that went on which I do not care to discuss.

However today, I saw a story that sent chills down my spine because I realize I could have been among this number.   I realize how fortunate I am that I was not.  For three years I lived in a prison from which there was no escape for a little over three years and those three years shaped my destiny.  How I kept my sanity is beyond me.  I don’t consider myself broken, damaged and such–but there are times I wake up in a cold sweat even 33 years after the fact.

Oddly enough Judy, my stepmother,  died on 9/12/1978.  I am always down on 9/11 for obvious reasons, but this anniversary is one I don’t know whether to feel grief, relief or both depending on the memories that come back.  I wish she could have gotten help for her illness and there are some things I wish had been handled a lot differently.  However, it was not meant to be.  For some reason, I am alive and many others were not so lucky.  Many nights that .22 was waived at my head and I was threatened but I always put myself mentally elsewhere.  Other children did not make it out of their hells and their cells as I did mine.

I saw a story tonight that made me cry.  The violence of it and the horrible things that this  little girl had to see and hear make  my stepmother’s abusive behavior seem like a trip to Disneyland.   I realized tonight that I didn’t endure crap half as bad as this famous little girl did.  Back in the days when this happened,  there was not much Child Protective Services could do if the children wouldn’t talk.  It was true at the time of my stepmother’s death and it was true at the time of the death of a little girl named Judith Eva Barsi (June 1978-July 1988).

Judith (Judy–as some called her) was an actress on her way to stardom.  Despite the hell she endured at home, she always looked happy and cheerful…I call that the greatest mask because I too was able to wear it.  At times I could go to school beaming as if everything was as fine as it would be in a Brady Bunch or Ozzie and Harriet household.   However some of my teachers saw right through it.  Did anyone besides the psychologist and immediate family see through Judy Barsi’s?

Why did CPS just speak to the mother and not interview the child alone?  If they did would it have mattered?  Most likely not.  I find it ironic that a movie was not made about this because the headlines were almost too many to count from what I am reading tonight. On top of that, after 45 days or so, the judge tended to put the kids right back into the hell they were taken out of for the sake of “keeping the family together”.  To me that is a load of pure crap in extreme cases.  First time, take their rights and place the kid(s) elsewhere.  That is what I feel should be done  and ONLY in EXTREME cases–and to me this was pretty extreme.

If you don’t believe me look at the case of the Jahnke kids.  Remember?  The ones that shot their dad who was VERY abusive to them?  I remember it, too.  They should have been fully pardoned when it came out what they endured at this hands.  Sorry if you don’t agree but these were kids–like me but they were a bit older when their incident took place.  They did make movies about this incident, but I am not going to go into it here…They are out of prison and living quiet lives and I wish them peace and a full life.

Ironically, I could have fallen into either category–Judith Barsi’s or that of the Jahnke kids.  I don’t know what stopped me to this day from pulling the trigger on my stepmother the night I had the opportunity to, but something did.  On the other hand, I don’t know what the hell kept her from blowing my brains out.  Does that make me sick or abnormal?  I don’t think so.  There is a big difference in fantasizing about killing the bully and actually carrying out the thought.  I could never do it. Even now I know I could NOT do it.  That is the difference between yesterday’s kid and today’s kid I guess.  We had Columbine for a wake up call, right?   Now if someone tries to harm one of my sons, that is a whole new ball game.

Aside from that there is something that people need to remember.   Kids basically had very few rights then, but someone has to be their voice.  Someone has to step in and take action when nobody else can or will.  My hat goes off to every social worker who has ever had to risk his or her life to remove a child from a parent like Jozsef Barsi or from a parent like my stepmother.  I salute every policeman/woman , firefighter and teacher who has ever stepped in to help in such a situation–and many HAVE done so. Many a teacher helped me as best as they could during my time of hell.  Day after day, these brave people go in to face the unknown, and just like those less fortunate children that they are trying to protect, they might not make it home again.

As 9/12 approaches for me, I am grateful for all of these heroes–as well as the ones who will be remembered the day prior.  We should never, ever take life for granted.  We are all here for a reason and now I know this.  Someday, maybe I’ll finish the book on it, but there are days that I simply cannot write in it.  I still cry.  I still struggle with whether or not to take that pen that I have created so many imaginary heroes and heroines with in their worlds and paint the reality of my world  for all to see.  Besides that, “Precious” was already out there to try to wake people up as well…I wonder if I am the only writer that goes through this type of stuff.  I know to this day, I cannot watch “Precious”.  Sorry but it is  painful for me for other reasons.  My niece warned me about it so I can’t watch it.  If they make one about this case, I will not be able to watch it either.

Anyway, I feel that Judith Barsi is the long-lost poster child for the reality of what child abuse is.  Her own father killed her and then killed her mother as well.  Some say the song “Concrete Angel” by Martina McBride may have been written about her.  I choose to honor her life here. I chose the video below because it uses a song that brings hope and not tears.  She should be remembered with a smile for the sunshine she brought to so many.  Her life was cut short way too soon, and I do not feel that she should ever be forgotten.  If you know of a child going through hell, please, by all means pick up the bloody phone. You may be saving a life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-q947Iyy3c&feature=related

Touchy Topic…True Story…Food for Thought…When Educators are the Bullies…

It was 1978…I was a kid who was going through hell at home.  I was abused…I won’t go into every little detail, but my stepmother’s favorite mode of discipline when I was a child was to pick me up and throw me into a cabinet or up against the wall–if she wasn’t waiving a gun at my head…While my classmates enjoyed slumber parties, discovered the opposite sex and enjoyed some normal teen-aged fun–I spent my days and many nights hiding in my room and watching old movies or reading books–even after Judy’s death.

Some of what I write is through a character called “Kit”.  She’s merely a facsimile of what I might have been, or am depending on any given day of the week.  While my father turned more to his alcohol, and other family members only sought an escape, I followed suit and my pen became my weapon against all evil entities foreign and domestic.  I killed off more characters who did horrible things than Dexter–most likely, so I guess you could say I was a “serial slasher with a pen”.  It is through these writings that I ended up in a counselor’s office at the age of 15.  They really thought that rather than the escape vehicle my writing was, that I was actually planning to harm myself for some strange reason.  I think it had more to do with the fact that my stepmother killed herself and my writing became darker with each passing moment.

However this is about a Monday morning in September when I came back to school after her having been buried a few days prior.  The whole town knew that she shot herself.  I was sleeping with the lights on, still not believing that my chief abuser/warden was gone.  It was worsened by the fact that my father left me to my own devices for the most part.  The alcohol became the next woman in his life for some time. Before I get into this, I just want to say that in the present, if a teacher does this, he or she can lose their license for it.  I found out today that I was vindicated when I found out through a classmate that the teacher who was so cruel (a coach) was fired on the football field not too long after this incident.

I remember walking through the halls that Monday morning…Even some of the kids that picked on me were nice to me.  “I am sorry, Tina.” they’d say.  Or “If you need anything, my mother said you can come to our house.” etc..Everything seemed okay.  I avoided writing in my journal and the teacher, Mrs. Eaves was okay with that.  She understood that I just wanted to read that day.  I remember what I was reading too…I was reading “Silas Marner“…George Eliot–not my usual Edgar Allen Poe or Samuel Beckett fare.  I dreaded going to Biology class because HE was going to be there.  This teacher was a pure asshole.  He singled students out daily and humiliated them.  He picked on the ones that had long hair.  We felt more like marine recruits than students in his charge.  This incident would be the first nail in the coffin for him.

I walked into the room and sat at the desk where I usually went in the back of the room…He always gave me bullshit before–along with a few other students, but this was not the day he wanted to do that–only he didn’t realize that yet.  Somehow, one of the new kids (who truly didn’t realize who I am) asked about suicide and why people do that.  I was livid.  This is not what I wanted to hear at all.  Somehow that student got to ask why women do that when the coach commented, “Women don’t usually go around shooting themselves because they don’t want to mess up their looks.”  The class became quiet and those who knew me turned and look back at me.  I stood up.  I heard one of my classmates say “Holy shit! He’ll kill her…”

“O’Neill what do you think you’re doing?  Sit back down.” he said to me.

“Go to hell.” I said as I headed for the door.  I left my books and everything on the desk.  He tried to grab my arm and was yelling something, but for the first time, I pulled away and ran–not walked–RAN to the office.  I slammed the door behind me and they instantly  knew something was wrong.  I wasn’t crying either. I wanted to, for the first time, really bitch slap that man.  I was seething with rage. The principal called me into the office and he and the counselor calmed me down.  They called my Dad.  Once I calmed down they asked me what happened.  “I will never go back to that class.” I told them.  They asked why.  I told him everything that this coach had said.  They had my books brought to the office.  When my dad showed up, they had him take me home and told him that I could stay home for a few days with no penalty while they straightened things out.

They talked to my dad for a long time after I went back into the waiting area and sat down.  I remember Dad saying something like, “You should have reported him a long time ago for talking to you kids like that.  He has no right.”  All I said was, “He is the teacher and isn’t he ALWAYS right?”   “No. He isn’t. And you’re going into a different class next week but I’m keeping you home for a few more days.” he told me.  I went into my room, closed my door and THEN cried a bit.  I didn’t want to let anyone see me like that–devastated…

I went back to school that Friday.  They had that coach in the office.  “Tina, I’m sorry.  I had been out-of-town for a week and I really didn’t know what happened.”  My response, “You’re a liar.  You are mean to us all every day and you treat us like crap.  Everyone in town knew so you can’t tell me you never got a phone call or a note in your box. I’m not stupid.  That was the last straw and if they put me back in your class, I’m dropping out.”  He then said, “Tina I really am sorry.  I really didn’t know–”  I said something like  “Take it up with God.  Maybe he’ll believe it but not me. I’m not God.”

Nobody said anything after he went back to his classroom, but I was quickly put into a different class.  Another teacher told me she really understood how I felt, but he really wasn’t told about it.   That just told me someone dropped the ball.   He got fired on the football field as well later on.  Evidently he never learned anything from what he did to me.  The remark about suicide wasn’t the first time he picked on any of us.  Any of us could have fit into “The Breakfast Club“.  I was the Ally Sheedy character…Jimmy was the Judd Nelson character…I could go on…If he wasn’t picking on someone for their weight, it was their hair…If it wasn’t how they dressed, it was how they spoke or read…In short, this guy was a pure asshole.

All I want to point out here is that if a teacher bullies a student or group of students, there should be no “probation”.  This is abuse and they should immediately lose their license for it the first time they are caught doing it.  This stuff still goes on…I’ve seen teachers tell other students, “Don’t say something to (Insert a student name here) because he/she will run back and tell Mommy and we’ll all get into trouble~!” AFTER said teacher had been verbally abusing other students and gotten reported for it several times so where does the “we” come into it?  I’ll tell you.  That teacher is trying to gain a following–just like gang leaders and wannabes in prison do.  I saw this behavior first hand when working in corrections.  This is what offenders do to incite others to be cruel to offenders that will not fall into their game or do as they want.  Kids have been bullied at school as a result of the manipulation by these educators–especially if the teacher in question “rewards” those who “support” him or her with free time or something…Seriously!

Schools should not be prisons and teachers should not be teaching students how to be “offenders” in a correctional setting.  Teachers who engage in this type of behavior are as low as some of the people I had to deal with as a correctional sergeant and not all of them were offenders either.  Thank you.  I’ve gotten that off of my chest.  If you know of a teacher who does this, report it.  If you are a teacher and you witness this–don’t be afraid to do the right thing because ignoring it makes you party to it.  There shouldn’t be a “code of silence” when kids are suffering at the hands of such incompetent educators.  And as for administrators that back these abusers up rather than do their job, fire them on the spot right along with teacher that overstepped his/her bounds.

 

 

Strength in the Darkest of Days, Clint Dunn Speaks…

I have to say that I admire Clint Dunn.  He has faced scrutiny and adversity since the disappearance of his 13-year-old daughter, Hailey and has only come back to show himself to be stronger and more determined to find his child.  He has gone all over the state to make sure people know what she looks like, and he makes sure that they know that there is still an empty place setting at the dinner table, if you know what I mean. 

I cannot begin to imagine what he must be going through, but I do know this:  He will not rest until she is found and the questions are all answered.  Please do not judge him for his past.  It is not of importance to THIS matter.  The fact of the matter is this: 

A child is missing.  She must be found.  The question is “When?”  Once she is found, then we can ask “Why?”  Until then I urge people to keep their focus on this child and keep her face in mind.  One never knows what might happen or what small thing one might see that just might be the key in bringing this child home.  Thank you.  Here is a link to the latest information on this matter.  Clint Dunn states clearly: “I’m the voice for my daughter.” 

http://www.ktxs.com/news/27054473/detail.html

$25,000 Reward for infomration leading to this child's return. Please do not forget!