Bully 2

 

     When I was a young girl and someone did and/or said something unpleasant to me, I was instructed by my parents to ignore the someone; my folks said that they would eventually tire of the lack of reaction from me and move on. It is the very same advice that I gave to my girls when they encountered unpleasant someones of their own. Subsequently it seemed that they were accused of leaving the bully out, of making them feel unwelcome. Wasn't that the point?  And let me be clear: I did not ask them to retaliate, or to be rude in any way. My husband and I gave the same advice: Smile, say hello and keep walking. Do we now reward bad behaviour by continuing to include the bully in our relationships regardless of the fact that this person is foul-mouthed, rude and lacking in even the most basic of social graces? Are the rights of the one now more important than the rights of the many?
     We are familiar with bullying. Our extraordinary-needs daughter encountered it in elementary school; my husband and I have had our own experiences both as children and adults. We have all been told that one of the reason bullies are bullies is that they have been bullied themselves. This may well be true but it does not let bullies off of the hook. They are responsible for their own behaviour and should therefore understand that other people may not want to spend time with them. And this is not just a school yard phenomenon; this happens with adults in the workplace as well,  There are bullies everywhere, in every walk of life, old and young. It is up to us as parents to model the behaviour we wish to see from our children and when we don't see it, to offer correction and guidance. There is help out there for people who need more than that.

#153

     I have enjoyed blogging much more than I thought I would. I can write and post a blog whenever I want, where ever I want, day or night, summer or winter, right or wrong. The cathartic effect of blogging is similar to that of journalling and therefore very good for my mental health. Before I met my husband I had journalled (which is not a word according to Blogger, but then neither is blog according to Blogger) for over twenty years. These books I keep in a very special Korean chest and this box is possibly the third most important thing that I would drag from our house if it were on fire, (My daughters being the first two of course.) Memories like the ones contained in those journals can never be replaced or even recalled at times by my almost fifty-nine year old brain.
     Paper, pens, photos, books, cheques even concert tickets and boarding passes are being replaced by temporary screen views saved to clouds and other forms of data storage. Children are being asked not to learn hand-writing while almost everyone has found ways to avoid buying postage stamps. The hand written journal is now almost certainly a rarity. And here am I writing this on a gray, rainy Saturday afternoon as a way to avoid vacuuming.
     The camaraderie and sense of community that I have derived from publishing these posts, meeting other parents who have kids with epilepsy or an intellectual disability on Facebook, emails or texts exchanged in advocating for our special-needs daughter have all been so beneficial to me and therefore to my family. I have learned so much about learning disorders and epilepsy from very many people; parents, kids, teachers, aides, advocates and doctors have all been so generous with their own knowledge, experiences, struggles and achievements. Not to mention that we have probably saved thousands on therapy thanks to this very blog, if not this post, post number one hundred and fifty-three.