When I send my children to school, I automatically assume they are safe and being cared for. My son was physically abused at his last school, and we made a choice to send him to a different private school, that was supposedly not tolerant of bullying. The bully, who is a child with emotional issues and medicated, followed. He was allowed wntry to the school because his mother works there.

Yesterday, my son went to school, and while helping set up chairs for assembly, was stabbed with a pencil near his spine by the aforementioned child. My son instinctively lashed out, he was in pain, and both boys were given the same punishment – an in school suspension. The same punishment? Really? And I was told my son was more aggressive and if I filed a police report it would be worse for my child. Luckily, there is no damage short of a small bruise, but the potential for serious harm to my son was there. Where were the teachers? And why is my son relegated to the same punishment when he was acting on instinct, self defense…

The unnamed child has already assaulted my son on more than one occasion in more than one school. Why is he allowed in the general populace, ah, there’s the rub. His mother works in the school, his father divorced and abandoned the family, and the mother is fighting breast cancer. Ok, I feel badly for the family, but shouldn’t the child need therapy, a stricter policy for behavior in school?
I am seething, and unfortunately, this is 8th grade. We need to stick it out until June.

I want the other child away from my son, yet the administration refuses to separate him. He has recently begun to taunt my younger son, in hopes of perturbing the older. I don’t understand his anger or it’s direction at my son, and I want some action taken, though I am not sure what rights I have. If anyone out there reads this and has any ideas, please post.
Thanks for listening.

Isn’t it strange how those who are most abusive, are so concerned with how others speak? Verbal and emotional abuse is so common, and those who experience it, at the receiving end, become broken. The cycle is so difficult to break. The calm before the storm so tranquil, it’s hard to see when the blowup is coming. It hurts so much, especially if you need to stand by and watch a loved one suffer.

I wonder about the children of emotional abusers. rather than growing up and having the happy memories of childhood, they are bound to remember the unfair punishments, the punishments that isolate them, and the ones that are imposed even when innocent. It hurts to see how a child can become a social outcast, and every time he/she reaches out and almost makes it, a setback occurs…stalking the child, fear or repercussions for any action, the fear of speech. How horrible to go through life thinking one is worthless, that the unique ideas formed in their minds cannot be shared, that laughter and pure happiness elude them replaced by fear.

Ironically, bipolar people seem to repeat this cycle. The abuse occurs, and though not physical, it leaves horrid scars, the kind that are indelible on the mind and soul. The abuser, after blowing up, punishing, verbally reducing his/her prey to tears or worse, introversion (is that a word?) relaxes. Soon after, the incident is forgotten, and the abuser returns to the day, happy, the event a mere memory, perhaps a faraway speck on the horizon of the mind. But for the abused, the memory lingers. The cycle is bound to be repeated, in a day, a week, a month, a year. The abused remains, hope the last stand, that while times are good and peaceful, perhaps a change can occur. Yet with this hope, the hatred lingers in the heart, unable to forget the words, the weapons that are so sharp, they slice the confidence and the soul.

How many suffer silently, how many more speak out, yet still remain….ever the eternal optimist…

As I begin my blog, I am plagued by a major gripe. Carry bags. Everyone uses them even though there are alternatives. Having been filling my boat and tote since grad school, I am beside myself with joy when I see others who also care about the environment and the future of our planet.

After taking my daughter to the grocers this afternoon, our environmentally friendly, reusable canvas bags in hand, I witnessed something that screams of stupidity. As I placed my items on the conveyor, I told the bagger-person that I had my own bags, and to please use them. Though he did use the bags, he first lined them with, you guessed correctly, disposable, ozone eating, landfill settling plastic bags! I was slackjawed for a moment, and I said, as politely as I could,” excuse me, but I do not need the plastics,please use only the bags I provided.”

OMG! I think I broke some kind of bagged code. I was told that perhaps the bag might be dirty, and the plastic would keep the produce clean. The woman behind me piped up,” just take the bags and toss them in the trash when you get home.” Perhaps I am crazy, but I do believe they are all missing the point. Luckily, I do not frequent this supermarket, favoring whole foods and the local farm stand, where the proprietor is pleased as punch to see my burlap and canvas bags as I canvass the stalls.

I want to leave a legacy for my kids, and I don’t want it to be in the form of a massive mountain range of discarded trash. If only everyone put forth a little effort to reduce, reuse and recycle, I know, trite, but true. My kids know that almost anything in the house has at least two lives, two uses. It seems simple, if I give you a bag, don’t insult me by using disposable plastic as well.