Bullying And Afterwards

Barbara: A friend of ours showed us this unbelievable video of a speech given by a young, unknown (at the time) girl, just 18-years-old, who had never given a speech before this one. Now Molly Burke is a full-time speaker for Me to We, a school-focused initiative developed by Free the Children. The program encourages today’s young people to work toward peace and goodness the world over. Molly brings a uniquely young and current perspective to many issues facing youth, including bullying, mental health and overcoming adversity.

I knew I had to share the video with you here, especially in light of the terrible spate of suicides of bullied children making the news lately. Instead of focusing on the wrongs of the world, I prefer to post pieces that focus on what’s right. And Molly, a victim of bullying, shows us exactly that. That hope and courage (and time!) can overcome the worst.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t embed the video into our blog: the video is here. If you want to see Molly, she begins at the 2:15 mark. But here’s the most amazing part—the part you don’t want to miss, the part that will blow you away, happens around the 5-minute mark.

Have you overcome bullying in your past? If so, what was the solution? In my case, it was time. After I was groped by a group of boys in my high school hallway and verbally tormented for the rest of that school year, I found my escape in the drama department. Then I rediscovered my self-confidence, and then the next year, the furor had died down and it seemed that I had been forgotten as a target. Conversely, there is also the question of the bully. Speaking with a friend yesterday, she told me that a close friend of hers—a kind, decent, loving, sensitive, compassionate woman—had been, in her own words, a “terrible bully" in her teens. Makes you think, doesn’t it?

Contemplating A Dog's Life

Barbara: The post the other day about wee Bairn making her precious way into our lives made me contemplate the other side of a dog’s life. The side where things gets a bit harder. Well, I guess I also got to thinking about this other side because times are a bit … twisted at the moment, for me and pretty much all those around me. And when life gets twisted, we all get a bit dark and twisted with it, don’t we?

Chaplin

My dog, Chaplin, is my own dear, sweet pooch and, as much as I resisted getting a dog, I don’t regret finally making this decision. Not one bit. He, like Bairn, also started off with no fears in the world. Everything was exciting and wonderful. Every person. Every dog. Especially every dog. If you have one, you know that look dogs get when they spot each other—they’re out for their morning walk and suddenly a fellow-species member trots by and the world stops for both of them, like they’re the only two beings alive on this earth. You half-expect some sappy love-song strains to start up, say “Lady in Red”, as they strain to nuzzle and sniff each other. I always used to say, Chaplin is a people-dog, but he’s even more of a dog-dog.

But that all changed one day when I was walking Chaplin and we passed a large white (leashed) dog who, apropos of nothing, suddenly clamped its jaw around Chaplin’s neck. The master reacted in seconds and all finished okay. But Chaplin was a changed pooch. He was, well, gobsmacked seems the best word. It was like he’d just discovered his best friend was cheating on him.

Now he never looks at dogs the same way, with that innocent joy and heart-bursting love. No, now he growls or retreats shaking behind my legs, or sometimes he even lunges. For what purpose, I don’t know, I hardly see him as the jaws-around-a-neck type. And if the dog is large and white, all the more difficult to soothe him down.

Anyway, all this to say that it makes me wonder if we all aren’t a little doggy in our lives. We too start off sweet and innocent. But if one white dog clamps its steely jaw around our neck, life can change forever after. Yes, it teaches us a valuable lesson that some dogs bite, but it often just ruins dogs for us completely. Suddenly, for no better reason than something bad happened to us one day in the past, we now tend to cower or retreat or lunge out in angry self-defense at even the whiff of large-white-dog-breath.

But should one mean-spirited (or misguided) dog affect everything we try to do from now on? If one person or event or challenge or shock sideswipes us, should we lie in wait every day after for the same thing to happen again? Or can we somehow start fresh, reprogram our brains, and learn to not assume every dog will bite even if we know some certainly will? And in so doing, will we become more accepting, more courageous, and much more present in the moment?

All I know is that for me most, if not all, of my fears and anxieties grip me because of the sheer force of this habit. Ironically, there’s nothing more mundane than a habit, especially a bad one. And habit is a very difficult habit to break. Just ask Chaplin.

Deb: I guess that’s why when I am in a room full of people that love me, I will navigate to the one who doesn’t. Cause I have to sell them on me. Have to make them get the Deb.

I relate to Chaplin on this, but because my brain is bigger (YES, I AM SMARTER THAN THE DOG!), I have found my way around this one. I have really started to succeed in not letting the big dog bully me. I have found more and more that I am making small steps in that direction. My issue is the pendulum. I find myself struggling with the two extremes. I go from “Carpet Girl”––walk all over me––to FUCKYOUYAMEANSPIRITEDBULLYBETTYTHINKYOURPOODOESNTSTINK!

This is my issue. I need to find the middle ground and I am working on it. I can tell you this––and I stand by it 100%––if someone is not worthy of my love and friendship, I move on with no bitterness and no regret. My world and the world at large are too full of sweet pups to choose a bully. I am officially over them.

Chaplin, are you listening? Good dog. Smart Dog.