The Brat of Necessity
I typed up a detailed reply to dolorosa_12's post on her experience with little people and the culture of bullying that is allegedly engendered by educational institutions.
Livejournal then had an error on me and I lost it (grief!), so I'll summarise. (The below post is directed at her so whenever I say 'you', unless you're dolorosa_12 I'm not addressing you personally. Or am I? o.0)
We've heard it before, but children are not born bad. Now believe it.
There is only bad behaviour and sometimes it sadly settles to stay. While we may not be in a position to change the institution, we still have choices. We can choose to get into a position of influence to effect the desired change. If not this, we can seize the unique opportunity like the one that you're in and choose to make a difference, one person at a time. Or we can choose to do nothing.
We hurt for the victims. Now look at the bully. Do we really have any idea how they got to that place where back-handed school child became their special of the day? I always pitied them the most.
As a child I was a bully who eventually decided that it was more effort than it was worth, I didn't have half as much reason to be cranky as some of the people around me and it was just damn tiring. But I was still angry and I liked picking on people, so I chose to bully the bullies instead. It wasn't the wisest choice and I was a bit too good at it, but I'm still satisfied knowing I did something. I refused to be stomped, sometimes I was stomped on anyway, but I always got up and did a bit of a victory dance.
Although I loathe inaction, I understand that not everyone is strong enough to intervene. I think that many of us, even despite our high words would be hard pressed to intervene in a highly-charged situation with people at our own level. Children are one thing, but adults? The instinct for self-preservation is serving strongly.
Most people -- and I do include children here -- just need to know the reasons why they should act and the reason has to matter them. Children, just like us, need to be inspired. Everyone has to understand the consequences of good/bad action and inaction.
School is not just about reading, writing and arithmetic; we're teaching children how to survive and let's be fair: the world is pretty unforgiving. I am not saying that the institution couldn't use some improvement because when I moved to this country and went into the school system I should have had a hernia. I only started enjoying myself in the last year of high school, that time when everyone realises how little all the things the cliques used to argue and punch each other about don't actually matter and why can we all just be friends?
But there is hope. I want you to have hope. I've cried with pride (privately, of course) witnessing the transition of an A-Class bully to the protector and moral superior of everyone around them. I've dragged out apologies without conviction, but the words alone so precious -- and it's so important they knew how much -- that I watched their uncertain smile grow to real joy on those children day after day.
I can't believe I spent years working with children, but for those moments it was worth every time I screamed with frustration and mentally swore.
Look closer, in the smallest moments in the most unexpected of people and you might be surprised. You'll often be disappointed, but when you do see a glimmer, however faint, do not let it go uncelebrated.
I've said it many times and I'll say it again: I think children are precious and so, so necessary to keep us humble. They see right through our niceties and often mirror our absurdities back to us, they ask simple and troubling questions. They make us face up harshly to who we are. Faced with people too diplomatic to say what they mean and end up saying nothing at all, or people who've decided to drown others in their words and shut their minds to contest, it was often so refreshing to hear the opinion of child who would always be plain. But a child is young enough that the curiousity is still there, like a canvas waiting for the latest contributing artist. And they say some of the funniest things.
Here's a funny aside: if you've ever felt unloved, go work with children who are probably craving hugs and attention just like you, but are a lot less shy about it. You will never want for attention again! I remember getting to a point where I would determinedly ignore any child who would specifically call, "look at me, look at me!"
It's true that some children are just brats (you can't win 'em all), but it's dangerous to generalise and I am beyond tired of hearing it.
I know that I was a better person around the children and I miss them for that. Also, I just miss them.
Livejournal then had an error on me and I lost it (grief!), so I'll summarise. (The below post is directed at her so whenever I say 'you', unless you're dolorosa_12 I'm not addressing you personally. Or am I? o.0)
We've heard it before, but children are not born bad. Now believe it.
There is only bad behaviour and sometimes it sadly settles to stay. While we may not be in a position to change the institution, we still have choices. We can choose to get into a position of influence to effect the desired change. If not this, we can seize the unique opportunity like the one that you're in and choose to make a difference, one person at a time. Or we can choose to do nothing.
We hurt for the victims. Now look at the bully. Do we really have any idea how they got to that place where back-handed school child became their special of the day? I always pitied them the most.
As a child I was a bully who eventually decided that it was more effort than it was worth, I didn't have half as much reason to be cranky as some of the people around me and it was just damn tiring. But I was still angry and I liked picking on people, so I chose to bully the bullies instead. It wasn't the wisest choice and I was a bit too good at it, but I'm still satisfied knowing I did something. I refused to be stomped, sometimes I was stomped on anyway, but I always got up and did a bit of a victory dance.
Although I loathe inaction, I understand that not everyone is strong enough to intervene. I think that many of us, even despite our high words would be hard pressed to intervene in a highly-charged situation with people at our own level. Children are one thing, but adults? The instinct for self-preservation is serving strongly.
Most people -- and I do include children here -- just need to know the reasons why they should act and the reason has to matter them. Children, just like us, need to be inspired. Everyone has to understand the consequences of good/bad action and inaction.
School is not just about reading, writing and arithmetic; we're teaching children how to survive and let's be fair: the world is pretty unforgiving. I am not saying that the institution couldn't use some improvement because when I moved to this country and went into the school system I should have had a hernia. I only started enjoying myself in the last year of high school, that time when everyone realises how little all the things the cliques used to argue and punch each other about don't actually matter and why can we all just be friends?
But there is hope. I want you to have hope. I've cried with pride (privately, of course) witnessing the transition of an A-Class bully to the protector and moral superior of everyone around them. I've dragged out apologies without conviction, but the words alone so precious -- and it's so important they knew how much -- that I watched their uncertain smile grow to real joy on those children day after day.
I can't believe I spent years working with children, but for those moments it was worth every time I screamed with frustration and mentally swore.
Look closer, in the smallest moments in the most unexpected of people and you might be surprised. You'll often be disappointed, but when you do see a glimmer, however faint, do not let it go uncelebrated.
I've said it many times and I'll say it again: I think children are precious and so, so necessary to keep us humble. They see right through our niceties and often mirror our absurdities back to us, they ask simple and troubling questions. They make us face up harshly to who we are. Faced with people too diplomatic to say what they mean and end up saying nothing at all, or people who've decided to drown others in their words and shut their minds to contest, it was often so refreshing to hear the opinion of child who would always be plain. But a child is young enough that the curiousity is still there, like a canvas waiting for the latest contributing artist. And they say some of the funniest things.
Here's a funny aside: if you've ever felt unloved, go work with children who are probably craving hugs and attention just like you, but are a lot less shy about it. You will never want for attention again! I remember getting to a point where I would determinedly ignore any child who would specifically call, "look at me, look at me!"
It's true that some children are just brats (you can't win 'em all), but it's dangerous to generalise and I am beyond tired of hearing it.
I know that I was a better person around the children and I miss them for that. Also, I just miss them.