A teacher in New York was teaching her class about bullying, and gave them the following exercise to perform. She had the children take out a piece of paper and told them to crumple it up, stomp on it and really mess it up, just not to rip it. Then she then had them unfold the paper, smooth it out and look at how scarred and dirty it was. She then told them to tell it they're sorry. Now, even though they said they were sorry and tried to fix the paper, she pointed out all the scars they left behind. And that those scars will never go away no matter how hard they tried to fix it. That is what happens when a child bullies another child, They may say they're sorry, but the scars are there forever. The looks on the faces of the children in the classroom told her the message had hit home. Copy and paste this if you are against bullying.
Let's see who will actually re-post this. This is a test to see who's paying attention. Copy and re-post in your own journal. Let's see who the real people are. Re-post this if you care about this kind of situation. Don't reply... just copy and paste this in a new bulletin as "Fake Deviants."
Ok, so I didn't originate this, but it's a subject I completely believe in. I suffered through bullying and harassment from everybody from my stepfather on out. My mother stood by and allowed it, and frequently reinforced it by making me feel like it was all my own fault. In time I came to realize that my stepfather's problem was that he was an ass, and couldn't accept his own faults. His first wife not only divorced him because of his emotional abuse of her and their children, she got a court order preventing him from having any contact with her or the children. This was back in the 60's, when no court in the country would deny a father his right to see his children, but HE was denied. I remember that my own father was in some ways worse, not only was he verbally abusive but he reinforced it with physical abuse too. This is why my mother eventually divorced him. I have long suspected that she got pregnant with me as a means to force my father to grow up, and when it didn't work she blamed me for failing her, even though I was just a tiny child, barely two years old when she divorced him. The difference between the two was that somewhere along the line my stepfather learned that physical abuse was not going to be tolerated so he restricted himself to verbal/emotional abuse.
This raw start at life lead into other problems, arguments with other children that brought around more bullying. In the end my spirit was nearly completely crushed. My hopes that life would get better were always stymied by my own terrors of having the past repeated.
I don't know how or even why I managed to survive until I turned 54 back in August. But I'm still here, and for some odd reason I still care about others and hope that others manage to find a better life. I'm not religious, but God bless, you, every one.
As we roll into the holiday season, be well, and take care.