Just because something is increasing in popularity doesn’t mean it’s right or should be accepted.
Back when I was growing up, picking on somebody was relatively straight forward. One kid saw something about another kid she didn’t like and used that very trait to start the tirade. Take a peek inside XII:
Teasing before class;
Whispering during class;
Telling myself the little mantra:
“Don’t say anything. Just let it pass.”
Sitting at lunch alone;
More teasing during class;
Hiding in the bathroom crying,
Telling myself the torture can’t last.
The teasing would occur in class, during lunch, before or after school. A few occasions, it would happen in the neighborhood.
The beef I have with technology is that it makes people too easily accessible. A kid can have access to another kid 24-7. There’s social networks, such as Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. There are blogs where someone can log on anonymously and spew hateful things. There’s text messages via cell phone. There are so many ways a bully can get at a person without even physically harming the person.
Whoever says that “words don’t hurt” has not had to move to another school district because the word of mouth became too much and has impacted the family’s dynamic in the neighborhood.
Whoever says that “words don’t hurt” has not had to see a child carry around the torment because she doesn’t want to worry her parents.
Whoever says that “words don’t hurt” has not had to stop a child from committing suicide.
Or even worse, not getting there in time.
In my observation, the technological savvy of this generation compared to the times I grew up in are staggering. I am afraid for our young children. No matter where you go, it’s a battlefield. I understand why children feel like they are in a war zone, and why their childhood years feel like a never ending nightmare. I’ve been there.
When the tears stop flowing and one starts becoming numb, that is when the danger strikes. When one’s normal reaction ceases to function, the warning signs flash in neon lights:
But one day,
When I emerged from the bathroom,
I felt different.
When the boy that walked by
Teased me about my glasses,
I said, “Thanks.”
When the girl that bumped into me
Screamed, “Fatso, watch where you’re going!”
When the popular kid
Sat in my favorite seat again,
I just smiled.
That day, I died,
And no one even noticed.
In my experience, I was trying not to worry my family. Yet the coping mechanism I adopted changed me into an entirely different person, and at some points, almost cost me my life.
Motto: Parents, trust your gut. Pay attention to the signs. Don’t just ignore them. You never know what can happen.
Makings of a Monster
It was at around age 12 when I made the decision that vocal conversation was useless. Each time I used my voice, nothing ever got solved. My pen became the might. My teachers were impressed but also worried, since the tone of my journal writings started becoming darker.
I cannot take the things back. It was how I felt.
The transformation was perhaps inevitable.
For me, Queen of Spades was much more than a pseudonym. She was my mechanism for survival. Things that bothered me before didn't bother me as much. I didn't take a lot of time to obsess over the aftermath. During those days, I just reacted:
From A Queen’s Growing Pains:
I am past the point
Where my inner voice kicks in.
Too much damage
Has been done to my skin
To have any sympathy
For others sink in.
You see before you
Has assumed another identity.
I became jaded in my views on Humanity. I used to believe there was good in all people. Yet the neglect and disrespect had weighed heavy on me, as revealed in Humanity’s Worse Nightmare:
I think the human race
Which is why they’d rather
Be part of cliques than independent.
They are like snakes
Hissing at those who dare to be different,
Swallowing our prides and hearts whole
Demanding that we change.
My first major betrayal by one I believed was my friend came to a nasty head in the conclusion of The Inconvenient Threesome:
I slapped you
Like a pimp
Would slap his b*tch
His dollars and cents.
I heard your jaw crack.
While you shed tears,
People said I laughed.
Looking back on those times, I hardly recognize Queen of Spades. I guess you can say she’s gone into rehab. She’s still quite introspective and fiercely determined, but she has developed better techniques in how to handle her dismay at humanity more constructively.
Still I don’t think you’d want to cross her in a fight...
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