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Behind Every Harassed Child . . .
New York Times film critic A.O. Scott wrote a sensitive, perceptive review (3/29) of the new film, “Bully,” a much buzzed-about documentary by Lee Hirsch.
It’s worth reading in full. But here’s a paragraph to wet your whistle:
The feeling of aloneness is one of the most painful consequences of bullying. It is also, in some ways, a cause of it, since it is almost always socially isolated children (the new kid, the fat kid, the gay kid, the strange kid) who are singled out for mistreatment. For some reason — for any number of reasons that hover unspoken around the edges of Mr. Hirsch’s inquiry — adults often fail to protect their vulnerable charges.
I look forward to seeing this important film, while at the same time dreading it.
Here’s the trailer:
There’s a scene in my book, BYSTANDER, when Eric speaks up to a group of peers. He asks, “The other day with Griffin and David. Why didn’t we do anything to stop it?”
And in that brief dialogue out on the playground, I wanted to quickly present, without editorial, some of the most common reasons cited for failing to stand up.
The mood of the group changed, grew quiet and uncomfortable. A few sets of eyes looked away, perhaps searching for Cody and Griffin.
“What about it, Hakeem?”
The thick-bodied, dark-skinned boy stared at Eric. He smiled, lifted up his hands. “My parents tell me to stay out of it,” he admitted. “I don’t want any trouble.”
“Hallenback is a loser,” Drew P. interjected. “You know how annoying he is, Eric. That kid deserves a little roughing up now and then. It’s like he asks for it.”
“Please, sir, may I have another?” Marshall Jenkins joked in a whiny voice.
Most of the boys laughed, nodding in agreement.
Eric noticed that Pat Daly wasn’t laughing.
“What about you, Pat?” Eric asked.
Pat swallowed, looked at the ground. “Even if, let’s say, maybe you saw something that seemed a little harsh,” he tentatively began. “What if you did say something? You’d get your butt kicked the next day.”
“It’s not worth it,” another commented.
“Besides, who are you going to tell?” Marshall asked. “The principal? Mrs. Morris can’t do anything.”
“What about Officer Goldsworthy?” Eric wondered.
“No way I’d ever rat someone out,” Sinjay stated. “Especially not to a rent-a-cop.”
“Eric, listen to me, okay? You’ve got to lighten up, dude,” Drew P. advised. “Why make a big deal out of it? Okay, a few little things have happened. There’s always going to be some guy who takes a pounding. That’s life. What do they call it in science? Natural selection,” he pronounced.
Rex Babin, Political Cartoonist (1962 – 2012): An Old Friend Remembered
Rex Babin lived a block away from me in the early 90’s, back when we both resided in Center Square, Albany. I was new to Albany, with a wife and (soon, in 1993) a young child. Rex was a single guy with a good apartment, and we hung out a lot, listening to the Pixies and Nirvana, and talking, talking, talking. Beer was sometimes involved.
This is Rex, holding my son, Nicholas, 1993. A future father in training.
Rex was a California kid, tall, strong, ruggedly handsome — always a little out-of-sorts in the gray climate of upstate New York. He worked for the Albany New York Times Union newspaper as a political cartoonist, so there was always something rattling around in his head.
We lost touch after he moved to a new job at The Sacramento Bee in 1999 — keeping touch was something neither of us were any good at. We became Facebook friends, of course, following each other across a great distance, but that was a faint duplicate of the real, tangible connection that once was. I learned on Friday that Rex had passed, after a two-year battle with stomach cancer. He left behind a wife, Kathleen, and a son, Sebastian.
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When I think of our friendship, I’m reminded of so many others that have come and gone. The kid in second grade I used to hang out with all the time. The girlfriend in tenth. The college roommate, the work colleague, and so on. All these friendships that we mutually surrendered over the years.
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We simply let go.
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Glad to unearth this old shot of me, my dog, and Rex.
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What I now understand is that friendship has its own grip. We might loosen our connection, but the friendship — that thing, whatever it was — never lets go. Anyone who was ever a friend, no matter how ephemeral, carves a permanent place in the heart. We might forget that in our headlong rush to the next and the next and the next, the busy itinerary of our days, but these recent years I find myself remembering those friends more and more.
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Regrets, yes. The could haves and should haves. But mostly this: appreciation for what once was. Gratefulness. Forgiveness. Love.
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Rex was one of those guys. A good guy who passed through and left a mark, like scrimshaw on whale bone. Rex was here. And despite the fact we haven’t spoken in years and years (and perhaps we both should have been better friends), I mourn his passing, raise a glass to his memory, send my best thoughts to Kathleen and Sebastian, and cry a few tears.
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Rex was a friend of mine, and no matter how much rain and sadness we endure, that stuff never, ever washes away. He will be missed.
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50 Words You Can’t Say On Standardized Tests
It sounds like a George Carlin riff, but no one with any sense is laughing. That is, so long as we all agree to disqualify the rueful laugh, the mournful chuckle, or the stomach’s sad-and-knowing rumble.
You know, the laugh that keeps you from screaming.
Click here for the article that caused my jaw to drop:
The New York City Department of Education is waging a war on words of sorts, and is seeking to have words they deem upsetting removed from standardized tests.
Fearing that certain words and topics can make students feel unpleasant, officials are requesting 50 or so words be removed from city-issued tests.
Ludicrous, misguided, dumb. I won’t keep you in suspense.
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The complete list of words that could be banned:
Abuse (physical, sexual, emotional, or psychological)
Alcohol (beer and liquor), tobacco, or drugs
Birthday celebrations (and birthdays)
Bodily functions
Cancer (and other diseases)
Catastrophes/disasters (tsunamis and hurricanes)
Celebrities
Children dealing with serious issues
Cigarettes (and other smoking paraphernalia)
Computers in the home (acceptable in a school or library setting)
Crime
Death and disease
Divorce
Evolution
Expensive gifts, vacations, and prizes
Gambling involving money
Halloween
Homelessness
Homes with swimming pools
Hunting
Junk food
In-depth discussions of sports that require prior knowledge
Loss of employment
Nuclear weapons
Occult topics (i.e. fortune-telling)
Parapsychology
Politics
Pornography
Poverty
Rap Music
Religion
Religious holidays and festivals (including but not limited to Christmas, Yom Kippur, and Ramadan)
Rock-and-Roll music
Running away
Sex
Slavery
Terrorism
Television and video games (excessive use)
Traumatic material (including material that may be particularly upsetting such as animal shelters)
Vermin (rats and roaches)
Violence
War and bloodshed
Weapons (guns, knives, etc.)
Witchcraft, sorcery, etc.
: An Old Friend Remembered){kind=link}
Of course, we’re not really talking about words, are we? We are talking about realities and ideas — those shadowy, sometimes unpleasant things that words are meant to represent.
Can you imagine the discomfort that’s been caused? The dis-ease? So many poor test-takers, fidgeting unhappily in their hard seats. Shivering over thoughts of Vermin and Parapsychology.
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Out, damned ideas. Out!
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Let’s sweep ’em under the rug.
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Poverty? Oh, yuck. Gross.
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Dinosaurs? Evolution? Heaven forfend.
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A big N-O to Violence, Terrorism, Politics and Cigarettes!
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Don’t even get us started on Rap Music.
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And let’s not forget the yin and yang of Homelessness & Homes With Swimming Pools. Ban ’em both!
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Let’s face it, life itself is pretty uncomfortable. And economic extremes so very messy.
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But there will be a test on it.
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Well, more or less.
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Okay, definitely less.
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But I wonder. Is it too late to add the word Hoodies? Because I feel nauseous just thinking about it.
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Watch This . . . JP on TV (A Star Is Born)
On Monday, I appeared on a local morning televison show in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
Click here to see me in all my telegenic glory.
I’m posting this, just barely, from the antiquated computer in my hotel in downtown Grand Rapids, birthplace of Amway and President Gerald Ford, so you’re not going to get anything fancy in this post.
I should also mention . . . it took me three days in this hotel until I finally turned the right way after getting off the elevator. It was a small but satisfying victory. Life is good.