Bullying

I have been wanting to share thoughts on this topic, but it’s just so massive and painful.

Today I saw this link shared on Facebook.

Aren’t You A Little Short To Be A Stormtrooper? The Passing of the Armor to A Bullied Little Girl

She writes, “Allison is eleven years old.  She loves Spiderman and Star Wars.  The other kids mock her for carrying a Spiderman lunch box.   Allison is taunted, ostracized, and even physically attacked by her peers.”

Seriously?  Seriously?  This is still happening? I mean, it was bad enough that the little boy was bullied for bringing a My Little Pony lunchbox to school, but that one didn’t surprise me (as much as it angered me).

*sigh*

I’ve heard people say these kids shouldn’t be allowed to have/do certain things because it makes them targets.  Because bullying is inevitable and they should be taught to fit in more.  “They’re just asking for trouble.”

NO.

Why can’t a boy use a “girly” lunchbox?  Why can’t a girl have a geeky lunchbox?  Why can’t an autistic child flap his hands in public?  Why can’t a girl walk down the street holding hands with another girl?

Because other people are going to laugh or think they’re weird or tease them or physically assault them?

HOW IS THIS THE VICTIMS’ FAULTS?

No.  I’ve had enough.  We need to be teaching the PERPETRATORS, not the victims.  We need to be changing THEIR behavior.  Making THEM act more appropriately to fit in with society.

Bullying is not okay.  I don’t care how “weird” a kid looks.  I don’t care how unique or unusual they are.  Because you know what?  We are all unique individuals.  And that should be celebrated, not squelched.

And you know what we call it when it happens outside of school? Hate crimes.   People are even killed.  This is serious stuff, people.

And you know what?  I’m sick of the nonsense coming out of my own “Christian camp.”  I’m all for respecting the fact that God created men and women to be different in some ways. But these “differences” the kids are being bullied for?  Those are cultural gender norms, not God’s.   Like Sunnie, the little girl who got kicked out of her Christian school for being a tomboy.  The school told her grandparents that they can refuse students who are, “Condoning sexual immorality, practicing a homosexual lifestyle or alternative gender identity.”  Because she’s causing confusion amongst students as to whether she’s a girl or boy.  By the way, Sunnie says she knows she’s a girl.  We’re not even talking about a transgender child here.  Just one who was told that “her dress and behavior need to follow suit with her God-ordained identity.” (Quotes and info from this Daily Mail article)  (OH, and the thing that really drove me mad?  I read that she originally cut off her long hair when she was three to donate it to cancer patients.)  I’ll tell you what, me and my two close friends are some of the biggest tomboys I’ve ever met.  And I can assure you that all three of us are very much heterosexual.  We respect that God made us women, but we don’t feel the need to be “girly” in the way our society expects of us.

No princess dresses for me.  I was Peter Venkman.

No princess dresses for me. I was Peter Venkman.

In my field, people talk a lot about getting autistic kids to have more “age-appropriate” interests.  They would say that my 10-year-old client shouldn’t be watching videos aimed at preschoolers and playing with his Thomas trains all afternoon.   I agree that developing “age-appropriate” interests makes it a heck of a lot easier to relate to peers and make friends.  But trying to take away these special interests is cruel.  This is a great time for you to go read this blog post, “The Obsessive Joy of Autism.”

So yeah, if I had a kid who was doing something that made him or her a target, I might even encourage them to tone it down if it was a matter of safety and the thing itself wasn’t huge to them.  But that’s like putting a  band-aid on a very huge, infected wound.  It’s only temporary.

We need to be teaching children to respect and love diversity.  To understand that not everyone is just like them, and to realize that this is what makes the world so darn cool.  To treat every human being they meet with respect.  I know it’s not easy.  It’s easier to try to make quirky kids fit in.

Recently I read this blog post and I wanted to share it here.  This should be required reading for all children:

A Bully’s Story: An Open Letter to the Middle Schoolers that Called my Son with Autism a “Faggot”

While you’re off reading that, I’ll be returning my attention to the feminine art of quilting.  I’m currently working on the Shredder, from the 80’s Ninja Turtles cartoon.

The Shredder quilt block

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Insights on Life from the Legend of Zelda

On this lovely Sunday evening I was trying to decide how to spend my last few relaxing hours.  My sister brought home our old N64, and I’ve been thinking about playing that. . . and I’ve been listening to some great Zelda remixes (from ocremix.org) while studying. . . so I had Ocarina of Time on the brain.  I thought I’d share something I wrote a few years ago.

Back in 2008 I was a nanny, and the two little boys LOVED to watch me play my favorite old N64 games.  They were occupied and happy, I was having fun, and I was getting paid.  (Michael Scott might call that a win-win-win).  One night I composed this and shared it on facebook as a note.

◊♦◊♦◊♦◊♦◊

Tonight I was daydreaming about The Legend of Zelda. . . not surprising, since J. has me playing two hours a day. I finished Ocarina of Time, so now I’m playing Majora’s Mask. It’s a bit trickier, because it takes place over three “days,” after which you go back in time (with some of your items) and everything is reset to the first day.

Anyway, J. is really anxious for me to ride Epona (the horse) again. I read online that in order to get Epona, I have to help a girl at the ranch. To get to the ranch on day 1, I have to clear the road with a big bomb. To get the big bomb, I have to buy it in the town store, but first I have to complete a “training” thing. To get to the training place (which is miles away), I have to melt the ice blocking the door. To melt this ice, I need fire arrows. But to get the fire arrows, I have to beat up some baddie in the snow temple.

I was thinking about this, and the other items that I want to get that make the game easier/more fun. I was thinking about how annoying it was that they take so much effort to attain. But then I realized: that’s life. What we need to make it through, or to make the journey more enjoyable, isn’t given to us from the beginning. We have to save up our money to purchase it; we have to receive it as a gift; we have to earn the skill with practice. These things come from hard work and perseverance, friendship and powerful supernatural beings.

And besides, the challenges of attaining these things aren’t to be completed before “beginning” the game – they ARE the game. That is what living life is about – growth, becoming more Christ-like, improving our minds and relationships and skills.

Oh, and music has magical power. That’s another important Zelda lesson 😉

Pillows made for the boys, from the free patterns on fandominstitches.com

Pillows made for the boys, from the free patterns on fandominstitches.com

Chimes for Autism

Chimes for Autism

 

Woodstock Chimes has a special wind chime to raise money for autism research and treatment.  This video is wonderful.  It tells the story of Tyler, an autistic kiddo who LOVES wind chimes.  I really appreciated how positive the autism expert and Tyler’s parents are about autism. 

Also, you can hear sound clips of all of the company’s chimes on their website, which I found to be really fun! 

Speechless

“Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me.”

Bull****.

There are many words that still haunt me.  Taunts about my weight that started in late elementary school.  Words of social exclusion from the mean girls.  Dismissive remarks from relatives.  A girl I considered my best friend suggesting I just kill myself. (I pretty much remember the exact phrasing of that one.)

I remember talking to a new friend in high school and explaining that my group of girl friends didn’t care what I had to say.  “Oh, I’m sure you’re just imagining things,” he said.  “No, I had the feeling that they didn’t want to hear me, but then they actually said, ‘Schenley, shut up; we don’t care.'”  I thought that was pretty convincing proof that my intuition had been correct.  I don’t remember him having a good response to that.

I recall a period there in high school where I felt like I just couldn’t win.  If I was in a good mood and talkative, they would yell at me for being annoying.  If I kept quiet, they would yell at me for being depressed.  It was only in the past few days that I started to realize the direction of the correlation – sure, sometimes I was quiet because I was depressed, but I think more often I was depressed because I was quiet.

On a recent episode of The Big Bang Theory, Sheldon is telling Amy about his “Which new game system to buy?” dilemma in a very animated and agitated fashion.  Poor, patient Amy just wants him to shut up and pass the butter, and in exasperation feigns interest.  Despite her doing this extremely obviously, Sheldon is oblivious and just gets more enthusiastic.  Sometimes I wish I could be as oblivious as Sheldon.  Instead, I have learned to pick up those social cues of disinterest and annoyance.  And when people aren’t interested, I can generally shut up.  But this comes at a cost.

I’ve started to notice that this constant tongue-biting is truly damaging to my mood.

I’m suppressing my own thoughts and feelings. I’m telling myself they aren’t worth sharing.  When these are feelings of excitement or joy, that is pretty effective at squelching the happiness.

As an Aspie, I have special interests that bring me joy.  I love to spend time on/with these things, I love to think about them, I love to talk about them.  The problem is, other people generally don’t find them as interesting.

It hurts when others aren’t interested in something I’m passionate about.  I mean, if the person is someone you care about, shouldn’t you at least listen out of care for the person, if not the topic?  Whenever someone shows a genuine interest in what I’m talking about I can feel myself light up.  Like when a friend’s husband asked follow-up questions about how paper-pieced quilting works instead of just nodding and smiling.

free pattern available at Fandom in Stitches

free pattern for the “Project of Doom” available at Fandom in Stitches

It’s great when I have someone to share an interest with, when I’m allowed to be excited and they’re excited in return.  My dad and I can rhapsodize about music and movies (and script lines at each other – yay acceptable echolalia), my sister and I can ramble on about our Sims or gush about Glee, a friend and I can quote The Office to each other and even went to The Office Convention in Scranton years ago, etc.  I treasure those relationships and moments when we can be ourselves and share each others’ joy.  There’s even research to back up the idea that sharing joy with others is a good thing.

Other times I keep my mouth shut because I’m feeling down and don’t want to dampen the other person’s mood, or what I have to say is nothing new and I feel like a broken record and feel bad for the other person who’d have to hear it.  I suck at lying, so I just don’t talk.  But that doesn’t help me feel any better.  And in those moments I long for someone to reach out to me and be honestly willing to listen.