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“Is that your bear? What is his name?”
Sofia lifts her little stuffed animal friend to her face where they nuzzle nose to nose, a subconscious reflex she turns to whenever she is feeling shy or is seeking comfort.
“Bear” she squeaks, her eyes peeking up over her glasses as she peers at the curious adult.
I exchange looks with the inquisitor and nod, affirming the true nature of Bear’s identity. Her bear is called Bear. She received him as a gift when we were still in the hospital just shortly after she was born, and they have been together ever since. We tried to push for Bear to have a different name, only to be chastised for such an abominable suggestion. Bear is Bear.
And thus grew a trend in our household of unoriginal names for all of our stuffed animal friends. In addition to Bear we have Brown Bear, Little Brown Bear, Pink Bear, Graduation Bear, and the newest to be named, Bear’s Twin Brother. Her brother’s animal friends have also benefited from this unconventional naming convention. His favorite friend, a Dalmatian, is referred to simply as Woof-Woof.
I credit this to the fact that he learned to say woof before he learned to say dog. Regardless, the name stuck. We also have additional family members by the names of Woof-Woof Junior, and Christmas Woof-Woof.
I have tried to suggest more common names, such as Edward or Jacob (sigh), but to no avail. At this point I would even take names in the English translation of Native American descent, such as He Who Goes Where She Goes, or He Who Always Needs a Bath. Alas, no.
This past Christmas we showed Sofia our new Elf on the Shelf. The magic little elf, tasked with monitoring her behavior throughout the day and reporting back to Santa each night (be good…the elf is watching), was a welcome addition to our family. We explained to her that she had the very important assignment of naming the elf, and the only rule was that he had to be named something other than Elf. She picked…Banana.
Yet even though she looked for Banana every morning and marveled at his ability to reposition himself throughout the house, she never gave Banana his credit; she never referred to him by name. He was simply Elf.
When I was a child I attended a small sleep over, which instead of sleep involved over 16 hours of a mind numbing game of Monopoly. During the throws of REM deprived real estate haggling, my friends and I discussed the names of our future children. As I scarfed down Doritos and peanut butter at 4:00 a.m., I came to the brilliant conclusion that if I had a daughter I would name her Orchasia Keene. Thankfully I got over it. I am therefore trying not to be too concerned that my future grandchild, like every other doll Sofia currently owns, could eventually be named Baby.
Let the “Nobody puts Baby in a corner” jokes commence…now.
“He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps perpetrate it. He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.
As the dust began to settle in the aftermath of the hate group created among some of my peers on Facebook, a friend pointed out something I found rather ironic. That group, wrought with malice, was created on the birthday observance of Martin Luther King, Jr. I wondered to myself if the creator of that group understood at all why he was at home that day, enjoying a holiday.
I want to thank everyone who showed support for the woman who was targeted, as well as for the kind words that were extended to me for speaking out against the group. There was some success. Friends championed the cause and spread the word; many who did not even know this person did their part to try to make a difference. The result: the creator left the group, all administrators abandoned their positions, and participation in the group dropped over 15 percent. Those who joined forces with me rejoiced in this small victory, however it is bitter sweet. The group is still out there; its members remain over 150 people strong. Countless individuals have reported the group as a violation of Facebook’s terms of service, yet there is no indication of when, if ever, Facebook administrators will take action to terminate the group.
Even though we were unable to dismantle the group, I still felt that a sense of awareness to this very important issue was spreading. I was feeling very positive, until yesterday when I learned about Phoebe Prince. This beautiful 15 year old girl ended her life on January 14, 2010. While the reasoning behind her death remains under investigation, the fact that Phoebe was the victim of severe bullying has thus far been uncontested. There are reports of public conflict between Phoebe and a group of classmates. Prior to her death there was some disciplinary action taken towards those classmates for their behavior while attending school. Yet it would appear most of the maltreatment didn’t take place within those walls. The major outlets that Phoebe’s peers utilized to conduct their harassment were Facebook and text messaging.
This horrifying example of the worst possible case scenario was exactly my point when I wrote that post. This isn’t a child that ended her life out of no where, with everyone who knew her left to question and never understand why she did it. There were signs. There were so many signs. Who reached out to help her? Who stood up and said “this should not be happening”? Honestly, some may have. I do not know the details, but it was clearly not enough. Even after her death people continued to taint her memory by bashing her on her Facebook memorial pages. This is one poor girl in one Massachusetts town. We are turning a blind eye if we refuse to acknowledge it is happening elsewhere. If adults continue to reinforce this behavior through their own actions, how we can expect our children not to follow suit?
Change is needed. Education begins at home and further structure is needed in our schools. The State of Massachusetts is stepping up its efforts to produce anti-bullying legislation, a bill that has been put off far too long. It is a shame that it took what happened to Phoebe for people to realize it requires prioritization. Yet for all its worth, this bill is targeted at protecting children. It is up to us as adults to ensure we do not allow cyber bullying to happen amongst ourselves.
Recently my daughter came home from daycare and greeted me with a little sad pout. When I asked her what was wrong I watched her eyes swell as she explained, “Christina says that I’m not a princess. I told her that I am, but she says that no, I’m not.” With that her face contorted in pain as she covered her eyes with her little fists and burst out with jagged sobs that tore my heart in twain. She’s only four. I knew the day would come when a friend, whether done with intention or not, would hurt my little girl’s feelings. I just didn’t expect it to come so soon.
I wasn’t the most popular kid in school. I had friends, of course, but there were only a few individuals that I kept close to me. In actuality I detested school. So often I found people cruel and judgmental. At a young age I had found myself fiercely in love, and when that love ended in an inevitable heart break, I found the world around me all the more harrowing, so often mocking me in my pain.
Blah, blah, blah, right? So far my story is everything ordinary. All the painful rights of passage that one must experience throughout adolescence were present and accounted for throughout every dreadful year. Yet there was one fateful day that showed me cruelty at its worst. This is one of the most humiliating experiences of my childhood; I share it with you in hopes of provoking thought.
I recall it was a sunny day outside the walls of my classroom. I sat in the row closest to the windows paying little attention to the lecture going on before me. I recall that I was melancholy as I watched the trees swaying in the breeze. I cried softly while I stared out the window, doing my best to hide my face from my teacher. The timeline for me is a little skewed so I do not recall the source of my angst at that time, but chances are it was with regards to a certain boy. For me it was always about a certain boy.
I knew that there was snickering from the boys behind me, boys that I had been going to school with for over a decade. I paid them little attention until one of the voices was very close to my ear. “Jump”, he whispered. I turned my attention now to what he was saying and realized that he was speaking to me. “Go on, do it. Jump. You know you want to. Just get it over with and end it already.” The other boys laughed at the proposal of my suggested suicide. His taunting continued until the bell rang. I never once turned around; I never spoke to them. I just continued staring out the window, wishing I could disappear.
OK, for someone who was just having a bad day, negative remarks from a fool who was merely showing off to his friends is really not that big a deal. But for a teenager whose world was crushing around her at the time, it could have been fuel for the fire. Thankfully no, I had no desire to end my life that day. But there are all too real stories of kids out there who would find that kind of treatment as a last straw and see it through. That’s called bullying. It’s very real, and it happens everywhere.
When I first joined Facebook I was hesitant. I wasn’t all too sure I really wanted to reconnect with people from grade school. But I am such a different person now from who I was back then, and I was willing to bet that a lot of other people were changed as well. I came to enjoy reconnecting with so many people. There are some people I speak to more online now than I ever did in high school. That’s the good part of Facebook.
Here’s the bad: A few days ago I caught wind of an open group on FB that was started for the soul purpose of gathering people to vent and make negative comments about an individual we went to school with whom they found annoying for reasons such as putting too much personal information on their status or commenting too often. No matter how innocently funny some of the people who joined this group found the page to be, it’s a hate group. I repeat it is a Hate. Group. There is also another phrase for it, and it’s called cyber bullying. These are adults, not children. Never did I imagine I would see such a horrible thing among my own peers, twenty years after high school is over.
Naturally this person found out about it, as did this person’s family and friends. It appears as though this person is strong and while hurt by the things being said will get beyond it. But the pain, the humiliation…it breaks my heart.
The purpose of this was not to get all soap boxy, and I certainly don’t want to sensationalize it by calling personal attention to the group itself. I am intentionally not mentioning names and ask that anyone who knows personally what I am referring to refrain from commenting with specifics. To anyone thinking that this isn’t a big deal, this is my perspective:
If my children were older and I found out that one of them had created or joined a group as a forum for speaking ill things about another person, there is no depth to the level of disappointment I would have in my child. If one of my children was the subject of a group created as a forum for speaking ill things about him or her, there would be no depth to the level of rage I would have for those persons who hurt my child. I do not care how much you do not like a person. I do not care how much a person annoys you. It’s cruel.
I am not a religious person, but I am a spiritual person. I believe in a concept that is as old as man. All religions have a different take on it, but the basic premise is harm none, do what ye will. I try to live by that. Obviously I do not always succeed. I have been the cause of tears in others throughout the course of my life, and for that I have many regrets. But I try to be a good person. In general it is not a hard thing to do. I have long forgiven those boys who snickered at me in class. I do not believe they meant to cause me actual harm. The little girl that hurt my daughter, it was innocent. There was no intentional harm in her statement. There will be a day, however, when cruel words will be said to my child, and I will be waiting to comfort her just the same as I did for that minor offense.
While some did, I do not believe that many of the people who joined that group meant to cause harm. But they aren’t children anymore. These are adults setting an example for others, and in my opinion doing it poorly. This world with so many problems will only get better if each person does their part to make it a better place. It starts with simple acts of kindness. Let’s be excellent to each other, people. It’s easy if you try.
Thank you everyone for your comments and support over the last few days. A donation has been made to Doctors Without Borders/Medicins Sans Frontieres. The reasons why I chose this particular humanitarian organization? This Nobel Peace Prize winning organization was established nearly 40 years ago by doctors who believe that all people have the right to medical care despite their race, religion, creed, or political affiliations. The majority of funding for this secular non governmental organization is via private donation. In addition to medical care to those in need, MSF has spoken out and informed the world of numerous international crises, just a few of which include the violence in Darfur, genocide in Rwanda, and the displacement of people in Ethiopia.
Not only is MSF currently dedicating a great deal of their resources towards treating the injured in Haiti since the earthquake, they were already in Haiti. They established offices there and have been treating the Haitian people for the past 19 years. Although their offices and medical facilities were damaged, and a number of their staff injured, they were one of the first responders and were treating patients in make shift triages within the first few hours of the quake. They are in the process of bringing further resources, floating hospitals, and more staff into the country. Please take a few moments to read their website and follow more of the noble work these doctors and nurses are conducting right now, through aftershocks, all the while risking their own lives to help the people of Haiti.
This is an organization that I believe in. Our donations will continue to allow MSF to aid the people of Haiti and many other people throughout the world. Thank you again for your support! I personally feel as though I was able to do something to help those in need, and it is a wonderful feeling.
(Used with permission by MSF)
I hadn’t been feeling well the past few days and stayed home in my little unaware anti-social bubble. It wasn’t until I saw a comment from a friend on my Facebook news feed that I learned of the devastation in Haiti. The world has seen quite a number of terrifying disasters in recent history, but what has happened to the people of Haiti is nothing short of horrific. By now even those who do not keep themselves abreast of current events have seen the pictures and have heard the pleas for help.
It is so easy to look away. With the enormity of this world it is too easy to shut yourself off and tell yourself, if it is not happening in my neighborhood, in my street, in my home, it is simply not out there. We tell ourselves we are living in a protected world, that this sort of thing doesn’t happen to us. But what if it did? What kind of help would you hope for?
I try to do what I can, when I can, but I admit that too often the extent of my aid is a silent prayer for those in need. I’ve got a family, I’ve got a mortgage, I’ve got daycare expenses; I’ve got a budget. I’ll also stop and buy myself a book or a cd whenever it suits my fancy. Realistically I know that I cannot help those in need all the time, but this time around I’m going to give what I can. I’m also enlisting you to help!
 (I’ve seen this logo around a lot today, so I don’t know who gets credit. Let’s call it a friendly blogger borrow)
Today is what we call Delurker Day in the blogging community. I’m a stat counter junkie. I know there are a lot of you out there who read my blog and do not comment. That’s fine, I get it, I lurk a lot on other blogs myself. Today, however, I’m asking you all to come out. Today I will donate $1 for every comment in the comment section of this blog post to Doctors Without Borders to directly support the efforts of MSF in Haiti. I would love to give as much as I can, but on the off chance the word REALLY gets out there I need to put a cap on the first 100 comments, lest my husband truly have a heart attack, and I have to bank another $150 for an ER visit. This is what I feel I can do right now. If you are not able to donate yourself, comment in my section with your thoughts for those who are suffering right now and you can know you’ve helped. After you comment on my blog, head on over to Modern Matriarch and comment on her post, where she also mentions several other ways you can help. She was my inspiration and the one who stirred me to do my part today. I believe that every little bit counts. Let’s do this little bit to help others together.
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