To This Day….

It seems that everyone in life has something they have to grandstand for.  Some people choose political avenues, others choose to do it more privately with just their families. Some people choose guns.  Some people choose equal rights.  Some people just choose simple things like the Golden Rule.  I choose bullying. My grandstand is against bullying.  Being a teacher is the perfect avenue for me to fight this battle in hopes that one day, it’s eliminated.  I realize this is an uphill fight.  I still choose to fight it.  I realize I won’t win.  I will do my best.  I will affect those I teach.  So long as I make it so even one less kid gets bullied, one less kid has to feel the pain I grew up with, then my grandstand can be deemed a success.

The students began with a blank piece of paper.  They were asked to use a marker and write a name down on it.  Something they had been called, something they had called somebody, or something they had heard someone get called.  They then put that piece of paper to corner of their desk and listened as I told them these stories, mine and others alike, backed by the music Cristifori’s Dream by David Lanz.

When I was a kid,
I was a little thicker than the rest of the kids my age.
Sure, I was heavier than I probably should have been,
And with the last name Pratt,
It didn’t take the school kids too long to make the connection,
Fat Pratt.
You combine that with the fact that I wore glasses,
And that I was part of the “smart” kid class,
And before long I was getting it from every angle.

And I’m not the only one who grew up this way. 

Shane…
He used to think that pork chops and karate chops
Were the same thing.
He thought they were both pork chops,
And because his grandmother thought it was cute
And because they were his favorite,
She let him keep doing it. 

Not really a big deal.

Until the kids at school found out,
And he earned his first nickname.
Pork Chop.
To this day
He hates pork chops. 

Our stories are more common than people will admit. 

We were surrounded by people who used to say
That rhyme about sticks and stones.
As if broken bones
Hurt more than the names we got called
And we got called them all.
This led to broken hearts 
And our broken heart strings played the blues
As we tried to empty ourselves
So we would feel nothing.
Don’t tell me that hurts less than a broken bone. 

A doctor can fix a broken bone,
They can’t fix a broken heart

Another…
She was eight years old.
On her first day of grade three,
She got called ugly.
She got moved to the back of the class
So she would stop getting bombarded by spit balls.
The school halls were a battleground.
She found herself outnumbered day after wretched day.
She used to stay inside for recess
Because outside was worse.
Outside she’d have to rehearse running away
Or learn to stay still like statues giving no clues that she was there.
In grade five, they taped a sign to her desk
That read “Beware of Dog.” 

To this day,
Despite a loving husband
She doesn’t think she’s beautiful
Because of a birthmark
That takes up a little less than half of her face.
Kids used to say she looks like a wrong answer
That someone tried to erase
But couldn’t quite get the job done,
And they’ll never understand
That she’s raising two kids
Whose definition of beauty
Begins with the word mom.
Because they see her heart
Before they see her skin.
Because she’s only ever been amazing

Yet another….
He was a broken branch
Grafted onto a different family tree.
Adopted.
Not because his parents opted for a different destiny.
He was three when he became a mixed drink
Of one part left alone
And two parts tragedy.
He lived like the uphills were mountains,
And the downhills were cliffs.
Four-fifths suicidal;
One part because of the tragedy.
Ninety-nine parts because of the cruelty.
He about gave up on life
When a kid who still had his mom and dad
Had the audacity to tell him, “Get over it.”
As if it was something that can be remedied
By any of the contents found in a first aid kit.

No, we weren’t the only kids who grew up this way.

To this day,
Kids are still being called names.
The classics were:
Hey stupid!
Hey spaz!
Seems like each school has an arsenal of names
Getting updated every year. 

So this begs the question,
If a kid breaks in a school
And no one around chooses to hear
Do they make a sound?
Are they just the background noise
Of a soundtrack stuck on repeat
When people say things like
Kids can be cruel?

Sure… cruel….

We were juggling depression and loneliness.
Playing solitaire or spin the bottle,
Trying to kiss the wounded parts of ourselves and heal.

Cruel….

I want to tell you that all of this is just debris
Leftover when we finally decided to smash
All the things we thought we used to be. 

You need to do the same.
Find the beauty in others, and yourself;
And if you can’t see anything beautiful about yourself,
Get a better mirror!
Look a little closer!
Stare a little longer! 

We all did,
And we found something inside us
That made us keep trying
Despite everyone who told us to quit.
We built a cast around our broken hearts
And signed it ourselves.
We signed it,
“They were wrong” 

Maybe you don’t belong to a group or a clique.
Maybe they decided to pick you last for basketball or everything.
But you have to hold your ground despite
Anyone who wants to bury you beneath it.
You have to believe that they are wrong!

They have to be wrong.

We grow up learning to cheer on the underdog
Because we see ourselves in them.
We stem from a root planted in the belief
That we are not what we were called.
We are graduating members from the class of
We made it!
Not the faded echoes of voices crying out,
“Names will never hurt me.” 

Of course,
They will .

But our lives will always
Continue to be balancing act
That has less to do with pain,
And more to do with our beauty.

After the final seconds of music played, I asked the kids to grab the paper they had written the name down on.  Remember, they were asked to write it in marker.  I then told them to grab their pencil and erase it.  This symbolizes the “Haha!  Just kidding.”  Once a name is called, a simple eraser will not make it go away.  They were then asked to crumple that paper into a ball.  I explained that this is what it feels like to the person who gets called that name.  They then uncrumpled the paper.  I told them I wanted to see perfect pieces of paper again, so they tried.  After a bit, I told them to say “Sorry,” to the paper and asked if it made anything better.

This is reality.

“Haha! Just kidding,” does not erase what you’ve done.  ”I’m sorry,” doesn’t make the hurt go away.  The names just need not be called.  Ever.  So we made a pact.  We discussed for a while what our promise should say and shortened it into three short sentences, highly reinforced by the script they had just heard.

1. I will not bully.
The reasoning behind it was pretty well stated throughout the entire talk.

2. I will not be bullied.
I brought their focus to a couple different lines from the script. Obviously, “They are wrong,” but more specifically, “We stem from a root planted in the belief that we are not what we are called.” I also brought back up what Doug Osmond told us at the Michael Vey assembly we had earlier in the year, “Do not let others opinion of you become your reality.” I reinforced the fact that I am on their side, and if any bullying occurs, I need to be told about it immediately, and it will be dealt with.

3. I will not stand for bullies.
To reinforce this point, I went back to the lines, “So this begs the question, if a kid breaks in a school and no one around chooses to hear it, do they make a sound?”  We need to choose to hear it.  We need to stand up to bullies and let them know that we till not tolerate it.  I did also quote Martin Luther King here when I emphasized that standing up to the bullies does not mean meeting them with physical force, but rather soul force.

At the end of it all, this promise was written in the back of the booklet I had made of the script and everyone of the students signed it.  No more name calling, even if it seems simple, and unhurtful.  The pact is there, and we must keep to it!

promise blurred

Thanks to Shane Koyczan who gave the original TED Talk that this was adapted from. To see his original video, follow this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltun92DfnPY

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