The more they change...

So another thing that drives me crazy (and you thought we were through with the mashed up part and ready to get to the main story didn't you?) is mandatory sentencing. Set in stone punishment. Zero tolerance policies. I've written before that the greatest disservice we are doing with our kids in school is not teaching them how to think anymore. We don't teach them how to reason, how to figure things out for themselves, how to reach a conclusion. We teach them the right answer. And zero tolerance polices, mandatory sentencing and three strikes you're out all fall right in to this vein. It's standardized testing for adults. You don't have to think about what someone has done or why, you just plug it in the slot and out pops your answer.

And the flip side of this is when you get a child who has been punished under a zero tolerance policy and instead of going to the administration, the powers that be, the people who can actually change the decision; the parents run to the media. That makes me nuts as well. I get it, it was ridiculous that little Johnny was expelled for bringing a water gun to school. He's 6 and 6 year olds do dumb things. The toy should have been confiscated, put in "the drawer" and a note sent home saying we don't allow toys like this or toys at all or whatever at school. But instead of going to the principal and saying, don't you think this is ridiculous and let's work it out and teaching Little Johnny how to resolve something, you went to the media and said, My angel, my darling, my perfection! And taught Little Johnny that breaking the rules was fine if it got you on the news.

A few years ago my conservative batch of friends were up in arms about a group of kids who had been sent home for wearing "patriotic clothing", specifically flag do-rags during a Cinco de Mayo celebration at their school. It was all over my news feed. "How dare they!" "It's disrespectful!" "You can celebrate Mexican stuff but not AMERICAN!" And since this was before my "Don't just don't" phase of commenting I actually waded in to the discussion. Now me being me, I first did a few Google searches to see what the rest of the story was, if it was out there. And of course there was another side.  Seems these upstanding patriots had clashed with the Mexican/American students before. The administration, trying to head off trouble, had specifically asked them to be respectful on this day. And they responded by wearing the do-rags and taking the "America, love it or leave it!" stance by shouting at the kids during their celebration.

So when I pointed out that they were really troublemaker kids hiding behind the flag I was told how awful I was. When I also pointed out that technically it's against flag code to wear the flag as clothing in the first place so they weren't being good citizens I was told I was wrong. Um, no, I'm not. It was my grandmother's biggest pet peeve. Seeing people wear the flag as a t-shirt or the worst in her eyes, a bathing suit. The Flag Code, for those of you who still think I'm wrong. Section 8. (d). And don't even get me started on "patriotic paper plates".  But basically nobody knows that there were/are rules around the flag so they ignore them. And since the good patriot kids defending our country against other cultures fit their narrative they ran with it.

Instead of Johnny and his buddies learning the importance of appropriate time and place and respect for other people they learned that if you drape your ignorance in the flag you will get support. I see bright futures for them in talk radio.

So yes, I blame the schools for being too rigid in their rules. Zero tolerance means zero thought. But I also blame the parents for not taking a hard look at their kids and saying, "Hey, you broke the rules, face the punishment." We are raising a batch of kids who have always gotten a trophy, who have always been told they are wonderful, who know if you break the rules you can spin it in the media and come out the hero and we should all be really worried about what that means for the future. It's a subject I've ranted about before. Maybe a few times. Teach your kids to think, to work and to strive. And stop bitching about the nanny state if your first instinct is to tattle to the media if life treats little Suzi unfairly. You can't have it both ways.

Okay, so back to why all of this sticks with me. I'm a sociopath. Or psychotic. Or mentally disturbed. Or something. Now some of you just laughed, some of you nodded like you have always known (hey!) and some of you are waiting for the rest of the story...

When I was in middle school I did my first tries at writing. And one of the things I wrote was a super disturbing revenge fantasy piece of crap story. Now, I say it was a piece of crap only because I've read some of the other things I wrote around that time so I know it had to be awful. I also had stolen shamelessly been inspired by such brilliant pieces as Flowers in the Attic, Blue Lagoon and The War Between the Pitiful Teachers and the Splendid Kids. But I can't tell you exactly why it was a piece of crap or post any piece of it because I don't have it anymore. It was taken from me. 

I went to a small  private conservative Southern Baptist school from 5-8th grade. The core group of kids had known each other for years, some since kindergarten. But by 8th grade we were in rebellion. Something about our class, our group just jelled into something they hadn't ever faced before. Open dissent. Looking back I can tell you it was too much change foisted on us after years of no change at all. They hired a teacher for the 7/8 class that shouldn't have been teaching at a religious school, and honestly shouldn't have been teaching young girls at all. Now, don't get me wrong, he never did anything inappropriate, but it didn't take long to figure out we flustered him. And by flustering the teacher you could get a class to descend in chaos pretty quickly. He didn't make it through the year. 

Then they brought back a teacher we had  had before, Mrs. Cyzack. She was our second favorite teacher. How must that have made her feel? To know we loved her but she was our second favorite and we let her know it. The things you think of as an adult. Anyway our favorite teacher Mrs. Penney had moved when her husband was transferred. But we had all had her for 6th grade and had all loved her. The kids who had come after 6th heard stories about her and wished they had had her as a teacher. Two favorite Mrs. Penney stories:

Our PE teacher had a rough year our sixth grade year, I found out later when he and I talked when he wasn't my teacher anymore, anyway, he was having a particularly bad stretch and just couldn't deal with things well. So one of the things he did was get lazy about his teaching. So for PE that meant we ran. For the entire period. Fifty minutes of circles around the playground. We would come back to class just gassed. Good for nothing for a long stretch. Exhausted, thirsty, spent. So one day after a particularly warm run Mrs. Penney looked out at a sea of red faced sixth graders, excused herself,  went across the hall and laid in to Mr. Rex. She had had enough. This was never to happen again. We heard it all. I'm not saying he was scared of her but the next week we "started a new fitness chapter".

The second one was strictly personal. At the end of my 7th grade year when we passed around our autograph books I went back to Mrs. Penney and had her sign. She wrote in part, "I hope one day you start dating boys as smart as you are." This is a teacher that was paying attention. She saw who my boyfriend choices were and did not think they were the best. Instead of sitting me down and lecturing me she gave me that simple note. Now I eventually did just that. Ended up marrying one and had a kid who I realized was much smarter than I am when he was in elementary school! I wish I could tell her, or blame her, or something like that. 

Anyway, that was Mrs. Penney but she was gone. Mr. Otero was gone as well, we had chased him out. Mrs. Cyzack was back, putting our class back together when she had to quit. She had cancer and was too sick to teach anymore. It had been the reason she left in the first place. We hadn't realized that. So we lost her. And we were all devastated. So then they started the parade of teachers to come in and try and push us along. Mrs. Thompson who should have never tried to teach, let alone a group of unruly 7th and 8th graders. And finally the woman whose name I can never remember, Ortega maybe? But she was a giant of a woman. Red hair, mini skirts, too much make up. I swear we all thought she was a man dressed as a woman! And she was mean. Just flat out mean. Discipline for her meant liberal use of the paddle and extra homework assignments. Writing sentences. I will not chew gum in class 500 times by tomorrow.

Ugh.

So I wrote. It was a tiny rebellion. Putting down on paper that story. Basically in the story we all rebelled. We took over the school. We found out Mrs. Penney hadn't been transferred, they had killed her, and I believe poisoned Mrs. Cyzack and that the rest teachers were planning on killing us to make the rest of the school behave and so we struck first. We killed them all, we hid out in the school, we took care of the younger kids, and at some point in the future Larry got Debbie pregnant. I didn't write specifics about any of it, that I can remember, because I had no frame of reference. I know at least the sex part wasn't detailed. What could I have written at that point? That they kissed..WITH TONGUE!  

Anyway, it was a silly little story. But violent. And sexual (in a glossed over sort of way) and hit among my friends. It was passed around from person to person and poured over. It was contraband. We all knew it was "bad" which made it awesome! Then Tanya took it home. And she read it and then gave it to her mother to read. And that was that.

I was livid! How dare you give it to your mother! It wasn't yours to give, it was mine! And how dare she keep it, it's not hers, it's mine! And I was terrified. If her mother called the school I would get called in to the principal's office for sure. I had never been paddled in my years at Parkview but I knew Mrs. Robertson would administer the beating for sure. And what if my parents were called? I was doomed....

But that's not what happened. Tanya's mother told her it was a disgusting piece of trash and I should be ashamed for writing it and we should all be ashamed for reading it, and then she threw it away. I never got the story back.

Now fast forward that to today. To a "typical" situation now. What would have happened?

Tanya's mother would have turned the story over to the school. They would have taken one look at it and realized that I was planning on doing something horrible and called the authorities. I would have been expelled. Arrested. Questioned. Possibly committed. My parents would have gone to the media to say, "It was a story! She's creative! There was nothing real in that! And we are suing for destruction of personal property!"

What had been a silly little revenge fantasy story written strictly for the shock value and kicks of a group of kids who felt powerless in their situation would have been turned in to something much bigger. Something it didn't mean at all. And what would we have learned? Fear? Never to write anything again? That thoughts are the bad things, not deeds, but thoughts?

What did I learn instead? Well, let's see, I learned that not all fiction is for everyone. I learned not to trust Tanya with my things. I learned to back up my writing before letting anyone see it. And I learned that maybe you shouldn't write revenge fantasies using real names.

And I learned that when I read a story about some disturbed kid that I need to look to see how disturbed really. Is it they built a bomb or brought a loaded gun to school disturbed or they wrote something down that they would never do but they wrote it down anyway disturbed? Are they the next Kip Kinkel or the next Stephen King? Because there is a difference. And we need to be able to see that. 

To think.

To reason.

But I'm still a little bent she threw my story away. 

The more things change...

This is probably going to be a bit of a mash up blog. I know there is a story I want to tell about my childhood, and there are a few notes I want to hit about "these kids today", or I guess more importantly "these parents today" so it's going to get a bit wandery at times. Like that's never happened before...

On Saturday I was talking to a friend (who also is my hairstylist) about growing up and how different things are now. How when we were kids we had a ton more freedom. I walked myself to and from school from first-fourth grade for instance. And it wasn't a short around the corner walk, it was a we lived right on the edge of the bus boundary walk. But both of my parents worked and my brother and sister were in school or at work themselves by the time I needed to leave for school so I walked myself. And I walked home. Key on a piece of yarn tied around my neck. And I wasn't the only one. We were the latch key generation after all. And she said the thing that most people my age say, "It's a wonder we made it out alive."

Thinking back on the things I did as a kid, I rode my bike or was out on my roller skates for hours. No exaggeration, hours and hours. No cell phone, not within earshot, sometimes without an adult even having a clue I was out. They weren't home, how would they know? I lived in the South Valley for part of that time and anyone growing up in Albuquerque would tell you that nobody should wander the South Valley alone. But I did. And my friends did. And we got in to scrapes, and played with things we shouldn't have, and saw things we probably shouldn't have, and had what was a normal childhood at the time. Totally normal.

Contrast that with C and when he was 11 or so he would walk the neighbor's dog.  He and Candy would take off, with my cell phone in his pocket, with strict rules on where he could go and when he should be back. The boundary increased as he got older and more experienced.  Or I should say as I calmed down and realized it was fine. But he had a pretty wide range within our "no busy streets" border. He also started walking the mile down to Bethany for lunch or a snack at around 12. He had money of his own and he chose to spend it that way. When there was a Godfather's in the square he would head down there a few times during the summer for lunch. One of the women that worked there was impressed with two things, one how polite he was and two that we let him go on his own. Now I was/am(?) an overprotective parent. I will admit that. I screened his movies, his video games, his computer files; kept tabs on how he was doing in school and what issues he might be having academically or socially. The whole bit. But not letting a 12 year old walk to the local shopping area? That was a step too far for even me.

But it wasn't normal. I know of high school age kids that aren't allowed out on their own. Not because the parents are afraid of the teenage behavior trouble they will get in to but because the parents are afraid they might be abducted. Snatched right off the street! A parent's big fear. What if? But the reality is that the what if rarely happens. It happens. And I wish it never happened, but most childhood abductions aren't by strangers, they are by the non-custodial parent. And since both Brent and I were under the complete agreement that we made him together so we both had to take care of him together we weren't worried about that. I will also say reading the book The Culture of Fear when he was 8 or 9 helped as well. It's the first time I started to really pay attention to the cycle of news stories. It's not that there are more instances of child abductions now than when we were kids it's that they report on them more. And they tend to like to report in groups. Oh no! Look what happened! And then we all panic and keep our kids locked up and they never learn important things like how to leave a proper tip.

Okay, next bit. So remember when we were growing up and words actually meant something? Like bullying. If a kid was a bully or a kid was bullied we all knew pretty much what that meant. Systematic and continual punishment. Usually the bully was stronger (either physically or socially) than the kid being picked on. I say usually but I mean always. That was the point of calling it bullying. The strong picking on the weak. But now? Well now bully means someone was mean to you. It's not the same. And people who try to retrofit their childhood into the "I was bullied" model make me shake my head. I've mentioned before a guy I knew during my high school years who I saw posting on a forum about how he was bullied as a teen. He wasn't bullied, he was an asshole. People were mean to him because he was a jerk. Now maybe he would say he was a jerk because people were mean to him, but now we are talking chicken and egg. When I met him he was a jerk to me from the start. So I was a bitch to him right back.

I did go to school with a guy I would say was bullied. We were all mean to him. On an almost daily basis someone was mean to him. Not all of us at once, but all of us at one time or another. It was middle school and he got hit by the puberty bus hard. He was taller than all of us, greasier, ganglier, more awkward. And we never let him forget it. He called me out on it one time after school. We were almost the last ones there, as was normal and we were talking about something (don't remember) and he said, "Why are you only nice to me when no one else is around? You ignore me otherwise. It's not nice." And being sweet and kind I thought about it and saw the error of my ways and changed. Okay, I totally didn't. I told him "Why don't you act normal when everyone else is around? You act like a big dork so no wonder I ignore you." Ouch. But it did stick with me. And I did have to think about it. And I know I at least had the good graces to be embarrassed that he called me out.

Years later I became friends with a woman who had been his little sister's best friend. We went to the same very small private school. I had no idea who she was, she was younger than me so was just "one of the little kids" but she knew who I was because I was "one of the big kids" and she knew me because she knew this boy. And she ADORED him. Because he was kind to his little sister. Because he was kind to her. Because he was always nice. Because, because, because... Now at this point I was older and closer to sweet and kind and I felt awful for how we had all treated this poor boy. Especially looking at it from the point of view of a little sister who had adored her geeky, awkward, older brother. I asked my friend if they were still in contact and if they were would she pass along a message from me to him. They weren't. So I missed my chance to apologize for the pre-teen me.

So I will cop to bullying when bullying was done. But if you try and tell me you were bullied because someone was mean to you? Not systematically repeatedly mean, but one time? Or because you didn't get along with someone who you were mean to and they were mean to you right back? Sorry, not bullying.  And parents I am looking at you right now, you have to let kids figure this stuff out and learn how to get along. If there is real and true bullying going on then yes, someone needs to step in and explain why it's not okay, what is wrong with the behavior, how it must feel, all of that. And if it's dangerous, physical bullying then yes, step in. But if it's two kids who don't like each other? Stay out of it. Let them work it out. It is a valuable life skill to have. Either learning how to deal with people who don't like you, or learning how to solve conflict so you can like each other.  Either way if we keep stepping in and "fixing" things we are going to end up with generations of broken adults.

So now this leads to the story I had set out to tell about the difference between today and back then. But I've gone long so I will write that tomorrow.

No I didn't just bully you.  I teased you.  There is a difference.

Boys will be boys?

This week the news stations all blew up with video of four middle school boys bullying the 68 year old woman who was working as their bus monitor. They taunted her, called her names, made fun of her weight and suggested that her family should kill themselves all while recording it on their cell phones so they could later post the clip and show the world how cool they were. The problem (blessing?) they soon discovered was that very few people think it's all that hilarious to be total douche-bags to the grandmotherly lady who rides your bus to make sure the kids are safe.

There is now a fundraiser online that (last I checked) had reached right at $400,000 that started as a "let's send her on a nice vacation" and quickly turned into "let's give her enough to retire" fund. She has made the rounds of talk shows and news programs talking about it. And I have been struck by a few things, basically she handled it the way we tell our kids to handle bullying. She ignored them. That's the first thing we tell our kids right? Ignore them and they will go away. But they didn't. They got crueler and crueler. Because it was never about her, it was always about them. They were showing off to each other. Look how cool I am...I can top what you said. I would bet you any amount of money that any one of those kids on their own would never have said any of the nastiness they said with their buddies there. Boys in groups are operating on a different level than a boy on his own.

Okay, let's be fair here. Kids in groups. Right now Portland is experiencing it's own odd kids in groups phenomenon. The flash rob. A group of kids, up to 30 at times, rushes in to a store and takes everything they can then rushes back out. They've done it in convenience stores, department stores and grocery stores.  And there is security tape of them doing it and in some of the shots you can see the kids looking at the camera and smiling. They know it's going to be on TV and they are excited by the idea! It's insane. You're committing a crime and you're gleeful because your grainy black and white security footage image will be shown on TV? What the hell is wrong with you?

When I was a kid and working for my dad at the gas stations or helping him with cars or yard work he would tell the story about the old man who hired a boy to mow his lawn and pull his weeds. He had a really big yard and it took a lot of work to maintain and the boy suggested that he also hire his two friends and they could get the work done quickly. The old man said, "If I hire one boy I get one boy. If I hire two boys I get half a boy and if I hire three boys, I get no boy at all."  Which when I was younger translated to me that I wasn't going to get any more help so just get my chores done and don't whine...but as I got a little older I got it. Boys (kids) in groups stop worrying about what needs done and just worry about each other. Look at me! Look at me!

Back to the boys on the bus. I told you that a few things struck me with how the monitor handled things. Another was that she never reported the bullying. Until the little jerks posted the clip it wasn't public. And she also isn't pressing any sort of charges against them. She hopes their parents will handle it and they will learn a lesson. Well I can tell you that one of the lessons they are learning is that one of the other things in life that ends up with a force of its own is a group of boys (kids, adults) on the internet. You had the good response, "Hey! I've got a barn let's put on a show!" or wait..."I've got a page let's raise some money!" and you have the bad. These boys and their families have now had their names and addresses posted online. They are receiving death threats. You live by the bully you die by the bully? Is that the lesson here?

Now, please believe, and anyone who watched me parent for the past almost 20 years knows this to be true, if C had ever been involved in something like that he would have been punished and it wouldn't have been pleasant for him at all. I would like to be able to sit back and say there is no way he would have been. Because I do truly believe that. He was a good kid who has grown in to a good man. He has always been kind hearted and I do think he wouldn't have participated in a situation like that but I also saw the father of one of the boys on the news who looked shell shocked that his child participated in such an event. He said he just had the hardest time dealing with it because this wasn't anything he would ever expect from his child. And I believe him. He had the look of a truly ashamed parent. No defiance. No justifications. Just sorrow. And I would bet if you had asked him two weeks ago if his son would ever have been involved in something like that he would have said no way.

But I'm not sure that a lot of righteous indignation is really going to help these kids at all. By bullying them online aren't we just teaching them that what they did is okay but that they just chose the wrong target? And really if you are a grown ass adult and you are calling for the death of a 12 year old how does that make you any better than a 12 year old calling a 68 year old woman disgusting and fat? Doesn't it make you worse because as an adult you should know better by now? Or does being able to post online anonymously turn all of us into 12 year olds again?

I don't really have any larger lessons here. Just a few things to think about. First off, keep reminding your kids that thinking for themselves is important. And that it's really easy to get carried away in a group and go along with the crowd but personal moral codes aren't decided on by majority rules. If it's wrong to steal, call names, make someone cry when you are on your own it's still wrong when all of your buddies are doing it. Just much harder to carry through. And then remind yourself of the same things when you are tempted to post something online that you would never say to someone's face.