I, too, am a drum major for justice. I will continue to speak out-LOUD and PROUD- as long as gay youth are killing themselves because someone instilled in them they are not enough. Well, baby, you're more than enough. You were molded with the same care and precision as your heterosexual counterparts. You are unique. God has a special plan for you that only you can fulfill. Live your life!
Don’t turn your face away. Once you’ve seen, you can no longer act like you don’t know.Open your eyes to the truth. It’s all around you.Don’t deny what the eyes to your soul have revealed to you.Now that you know, you cannot feign ignorance.Now that you’re aware of the problem, you cannot pretend you don’t care.To be concerned is to be human.To act is to care.
Bullying HurtsThe place where it began is told to be the school.The reason it started, was to try to be cool.There’s children staying home, in fear of the painThe possibility of loss is greater than gain.They deal with the words, reactions and blowsBut how much can you handle, really, who knows?You knew you hurt their feelings,Playing your gameyou didn’t care, Because you thought they were lame
You push me to my limits,Tell me I'm a misfit.Tell me I'm a fucked up,good for nothing bitch.Who are you, bitch?Who do you think you are, you hypocritical whore!I just can't take your shit anymore.You put me down, and kicked me when I tried to get up.Leave me alone, Don't talk to me slut.You can't keep me down ho,No matter how hard you try.So keep your damn opinion to yourself.Bitch, bye.
If I had been armed with a feminist understanding that no girl deserves to be called a slut, perhaps I would have fought back by reporting the harassment to my school's headmistress or another school authority, or at least I might have had the strength to tell of the name-callers on my own. But at the time, all I knew was that if I avoided eye contact, it was a hell of a lot easier to get through my days.
It was the first time I discovered that some girls actually sneak out of the house during slumber parties and meet up with boys. I would’ve never known if I hadn’t gone to the bathroom at midnight and caught Macy and Adrienne climbing through the bathroom window. They had on eyeliner, perfume, and cut-off shorts. Their only goodbye a glare that promised retribution if I didn’t keep my mouth shut.
I just sit there where she tells me to and don’t make a fuss. If I answer back she gets loud and shouty. I don’t want everyone seeing how badly she pushes me around.It’s best just to take it.God knows what people mus think of me - some nervous, quiet drip with no opinion probably. It wouldn’t be far off the truth I should have stood up to Sally years ago, but she’d make my life I did...
It's been happening since I was in kindergarten. Not them all the time, but other kids, you know. Every day. It never stops, and it never goes away, thanks to the Internet--it just keeps happening every minute, every day. And I just want it to stop. I think about how to do it, you know. How to kill them. All kinds of elaborate things, like trapping them in pits and burying them alive, or covering them with concrete.
There will be many times in your lives--- at school, and more particularly when you are a grown up---when people will distract or divert you from what needs to be done. You may even welcome the distraction. But if you use it as an excuse for not doing what you suppose to do, you can blame no one but yourself. If you truly wish to accomplish something, you should allow nothing to stop you, and chances are you'll succeed.
Take lightly what you hear about individuals. We need not distort trust for our paltry little political agendas. We tend to trust soulless, carried information more than we trust soulful human beings; but really most people aren't so bad once you sit down and have an honest, one-on-one conversation with them, once, with an open heart, you listen to their explanations as to why they act the way they act, or say what they say, or do what they do.
I know you don’t want to stand up to the bullies, the peace-breakers, or even the demons among you. You want someone else to handle it, someone else to tell them to stop, someone else to bring the peace. And very often in your life, there will be someone else, and you’ll be able to stay in your place of peace. But other times, the peace you crave can only be found by fighting the battle, and the light you crave can only be seen by fighting the darkness.
...research tells us that we judge people in areas where we're vulnerable to shame, especially picking folks who are doing worse than we're doing. If I feel good about my parenting, I have no interest in judging other people's choices. If I feel good about my body, I don't go around making fun of other people's weight or appearance. We're hard on each other because we're using each other as a launching pad out of our own perceived shaming deficiency.
Just as we have created a society in which it would be unthinkable to light up a cigarette in the Kennedy Center lobby, we can create a society where it is unthinkable that a child suffers abuse, fails in school, becomes delinquent, or faces teasing and bullying. We could have a society in which diverse people and organizations work together to ensure that families, schools, workplaces, and neighborhoods are nurturing and that our capitalistic system functions to benefit everyone.
Fuck you, CB! I’d rather you say “we beat the shit out of you because we can’t stand you” than to say you’re just “messing” with me! That implies light teasing or slight opprobrious behavior. I haven’t had lunch in the cafeteria in two and half years for fear of going home with some part of it smeared across my shirt! I haven’t been in a bathroom on campus since the time my head got slammed into the wall. I believe you were there.
The singing stopped when I walked in. They all turned and stared at me, Bonne-Bell-Orange-Crush-glossed mouths hanging open, looking at me with the same horror and excitement they'd exhibit it I had just walked into the room naked. I stood there frozen, hyperaware of my scruffiness, my shirt untucked and one ponytail higher than the other. The Bad Dog turned me in on myself like a vortex, gleefully saying, Look, look. There they are, here you are. Separate. You do not belong.
