After spending 1 year in Burkina-Faso, then one year back in Canada trying to get my bearings back, its time I started paying attention to my blog.
I wont recap what went on in Africa because you can see it all on my
other blog that was dedicated to the adventure. So instead, I just going to pretend nothing happened and just keep on blogging like I never left... well, try to anyway.
The one thing that has been on my mind lately is number of the gay teen suicides that that been on the news. Each time I read one of these headlines, I am moved to tears because it strikes a cord that is a particularly sensitive one.
When I was a kid and a teenager, I was bullied beyond belief. There was not a day that went by that kids in school or on the bus ride to school made my life hell. It was constantly harrassed. The only time I was not harrassed was during class, but even that was not a garantee.
I remember clearly, many instances of kids doing things that were unacceptable, reprehensible and downright violent. I also remember the adult teachers standing by, watching all of this happen, and not doing a single thing to prevent it. I remember my grade 7 teacher telling me it was my fault. She actually told me it was my fault that the kids treated me like this because I cried when they bullied me.
I remember you Roberte Brun. I remember you very well. How many other kids suffered because of your indefference? You were responsible for my well being and you failed.
After thre years of constant bullying, I refused to go outside at recess. I would find reasons to go to the library, where I eventually told the librarian that she had to buy more books because I had read them all.
Would you go to work each day if you knew you were going to be harrassed, bullyed, insulted, beaten, and brought to tears each day? Would you? What do you think this would do to your self esteem? How do you think it would affect you emotionnally?
Well, let me tell you, because I have first hand experience.
First, you would not trust anyone. I told many adults about my situation. Nobody cared. Nobody took action. Their solution was to put me in counselling. Because I was the one with the problem. Never mind the fact that on any give day there was 200 kids in the school yard dying to make my life hell. Yet I was the problem.
Then... You want to die. I remember distincly sitting in my room, and closing my eyes and wishing beyond anything else, to die. I did not want a bicylce for my birhtday, I wanted to die. And I tried it. Luckily my attemps were obviously not met with success. But I did try. And I did, truely want to die.
One person listened to me. My grade 7 French teacher. I wrote her a letter that I slipped into the pile of assignements we had put on her desk. She got me the help I deserved, and she took action. But I truely believe that if she had not, I would not be alive today. Because I would have kept on trying.
So... as my 20th high school reunion approaches, I am faced with a dilema. Do I go? From my graduating class, there are maybe 4 or 5 people I actually feel deserve my attention. But from most of the others, who I remember distinctly making my life hell at one point or another, I still feel lots of resentment, and in some cases true hatred.
Why is it that, even if I am not that 12 year old boy anymore, I still carry with me those memories? That I still feel those people ruinned years of my life. That I still feel angry towards all those adults that stood around and did nothing other than blame me for the actions of others?
I don't care what kind of person you are, what kind of child you are, how weird or gay or disabled or different you are... NOBODY deserves to be treated differently.
As I see my friends and colleagues procreate, I ask that you please get educated on how to deal with bullying and violence in the schoolyard. I was able to avoid drugs and alcohol because of my parents education, but bullying was not something I could control.
