Parents Raising Pitbulls

I just read a news article about 15 year old, Phoebe Prince. Phoebe and her family moved here from Ireland last September and began attending South Hadley High School in Massachusetts. For some inexplicable reason, some of her fellow students decided to welcome Phoebe by launching a campaign of threats, violence, abuse, and stalking against her. How nice. On January 14th, after 3 months of this torture, Phoebe hung herself with a belt from a stairwell in her apartment complex. As I try to imagine this girl's long and lonely walk home from school on that day I am consumed by sadness for her. Wishing I had known her. Wishing I could have walked home with her that day and convinced her that those vile and hate-filled students, who relentlessly antagonized her, were insignificant idiots not worth one of her tears, let alone her life.

Every time I hear one of these stories about bullying, I am thrust back into my own childhood when I was bullied. It is incredible how the memories of that time have stuck with me for more than 25 years. Now as a mother of two young children, I don't know if it would be worse to be the mother of a victim, like Phoebe, or of the perpetrators. I say clearly that I have no idea what Phoebe's parents must be experiencing; the unimaginable pain, heartbreak, and grief, but I am equally at a loss to imagine the shame and pain that the parents of these kids who abused Phoebe must be feeling. Should be feeling. I try to imagine having given birth to a child and then raised them in such a way that when filled with their own insecurities and self-doubt brought on by the presence of someone new and different, their response is to attack. To seek out the vulnerable spots, the weaknesses, the jugulars, and attack without mercy. Congratulations parents, you raised a Pitbull.

Now that nine of these students have been charged in connection with Phoebe's death, some are wondering what the fate of the parents should be. To this I want to point out, that within the law, it is commonly understood that parents are held responsible for the actions of their minor children. Your kid throws a baseball and breaks a window, Mom and Dad pay for it. Your kid steals a car and crashes it, Mom and Dad pay for it. Likewise, the law finds that owners of vicious dogs who attack and kill, are held responsible for the acts of their dogs. I don't want to quibble over the idea that as parents we don't own our children like we own our pets. The point is, if we sign up to have children or own dogs, we, by default, accept the responsibility of raising them.

The parents of those kids who assaulted, abused, and attacked Phoebe Prince, did more than just fail as parents. Their irresponsible child-rearing unleashed into our society, individuals who acted in such a way as to directly contribute to the suffering, torture, and death of another human being. That said, of the nine kids charged in Phoebe's death, only three of them are minors (under 18). Those parent's of the minor children should be charged and held liable along with their children. The law considers children over 18 to be independent of their parents and thereby legally exempts their parents from facing legal consequences. Those "kids" should be held accountable as adults. Their parents can only live with the knowledge that their lack of decent parenting has led their children to their fate, whatever that may be.

As a parent, I suggest that these parents humbly and shamefully step forward to accept responsibility and the consequences of what happened to Phoebe. It might be their last chance to set an example of responsibility and decency to their children. No matter how embarrassing, shameful, or inconvenient it might be to do so, they can, at least, be comforted by the knowledge that their children can have a second chance. Phoebe and her parents will not.

To any kid who is finding themselves the victim of the same kind of situation as Phoebe, I would like to share with you something that got me through the dark days of my youth. After months of harassment and cruelty, I too had considered suicide. I felt terribly alone, without a friend to care about me. I dreaded going to school, and faked illnesses to get out of going every day to a place where I was tripped, pushed, humiliated, and insulted both during and between classes. I fantasized about hurting them. I contemplated ending my own life to escape it. I thought about the letter I would write; calling out all of my attackers by name, and listing their offenses against me. Then one day someone said "The best revenge is a life well lived." I cannot recall who or where I heard it. But it settled on me in such a way that it changed the course of my life during that time. It didn't make the torment any easier to take, but it gave me hope and it gave me a purpose. Now some 25 years later, I've had my revenge. I have a wonderful and amazing life full of love and joy. Please don't give up. Never give up! They aren't worth you're life or your future. If you give them those things, they win. Don't let them win. This horrible time will pass and you will have an amazing life. Please, PLEASE believe me.

In a recent communication with my bully (thanks to MySpace) I've learned that she has not been so fortunate. In fact I discovered that during that time in our lives, her world was full of pain, abuse, and neglect at the hands of her parents. In the end, my bully, the Pitbull that mauled me 5 days a week, apologized. What I'd never considered then was that her parents were the one's who let go of her leash. Maybe I can find them on Facebook.

The Wisdom of Strangers

I sat on the lightrail train yesterday with may 1 year old daughter on my lap, headed to a local arts festival. A few seats down sat three women representing three generations. The eldest, perhaps in her mid to late 50's, sat across from her traveling companion who was all of about 18. I wasn't privy to much of their conversation but at one point the older woman chuckled and said "Oh, I really enjoyed my 20's!" The 18 year old said something I couldn't hear and then the woman said, "I think the key is to enjoy being a human being at every age."
Hmmm. A bit of wisdom from a stranger on a train?

Earlier in the week I met a friend at the library and told her about How To End Up A Butterfly. Without hesitation and full of exasperated regret, she began recalling to me how she had given up a full volleyball scholarship to a major university to chase boys and get high.

Back to the woman on the train. How did she spend her twenties, and what did she really mean when she said she 'enjoyed' them? Did she 'enjoy' her twenties in the same ways that had caused my friend regret? In the end I guess it comes down to what you believe your 20's are worth. Do you value that time as a platform to do great things or see it as a chance to let loose and live without care? I think it depends on where you're coming from.

There is undoubtedly, an impulse to run wild when we are freed from the constraints of our parents. We live in a strange purgatory between where we no longer feel accountable to our parents, but not yet accountable to ourselves. The amount of time spent in this euphoric state depends on how quickly a person learns to be accountable; i.e. understands that actions have consequences, and that some of the things we do can never be undone. Some of us arrive at this understanding faster than others if we enter into it with an appreciation of the satisfaction derived from hard work and a sense of consequence.

So it would stand to reason that those young people who have been afforded every comfort and luxury without sacrifice or challenge represent those who would see their 20's as expendable. But it could also be argued that those who's childhood has been full of terrible uncertainty and imbalance are equally as likely to continue this pattern into their adulthood. At some point though there must come a turning point. The opportunity to live your fullest life comes for everyone. Many wait until years later in their life to take the higher path, while others never take it.

I may be speaking in sweeping generalizations here, but I think that young people subscribe to one of two camps. Those who see personal achievement as a pain in the ass and a waste of time, and those who see the the potential for joy in setting goals and working towards them. To the former I suggest that real joy in life comes from living in the moment rather than for the moment. They should remember that although having and achieving goals may seem impossible and pointless, the journey that you'll take towards those goals will be full of excitement, fun, and joy that you'll never experience otherwise. Here's the kicker. In a few years you will turn 30, and you can do so with or without having had these kind of valuable and rewarding experiences. In simpler terms, ditch the boyfriend and the late night drunken parties and start living the best years of your life. Experiences like those amount to nothing more than wasted time.

To the woman on the train, whatever the real story, I imagine you in your twenties; meeting amazing people, travelling the world, chasing your dreams, and honoring your youth and your life. To my friend who spent her 20's in a haze, you honor your life by choosing differently for yourself now. To both of you I say that yours are the stories every young woman needs to hear.

Dances With Wolves

My husband aside, I can count on one hand how many men I've slept with in my life. I guess by some standards that might be too many and by other's too few. I did most of my naughty work during my early 20s, like most people I presume, and well, if I had it all to do over again, I admit that I would have done it much differently. Okay, maybe I wouldn't have done it any differently but they would have been different. Don't get me wrong, I don't have a longing for days-gone-by. I am happy and loved and in a much better place than I was in my 20s. But when I do look back at those days-gone-by, I don't look back on the number of lovers I had with as much regret as I do the partners I had. The one thing I never considered during my own little sexual revolution was quantity vs quality. I'm not suggesting that the actual sex should have better (although that might have been nice), but the partners themselves should have been better. Better people.

Just for arguments sake, here's what I mean.

1 - Village Idiot
2 - Bartender
3 - Spoiled Rotten Idiot
4 - Weirdo/Bum
5 - Alcoholic & Bum


So the count is Idiots - 2, Bums - 2, Bartenders - 1. Ick, Ick, Ick, Ick, and ICK!

I look back at pictures of myself during that time and empirically speaking, Wow! I was hot! And I had a lot more to offer besides being fit and beautiful. I'm not trying to toot my own horn, so-to-speak, but back then, I was hard working, independent, creative, fun, and kind (still am, I like to think).

If I had to go back, my list would be longer. Yes, longer. I would have slept with more people, but better people. I'd have liked to have slept with people of real depth and substance. Intelligence, self-respect, and experience would have been on my qualifications list. Lovers who could have taught me something about the world; who themselves were hard working, independent, creative, fun, and kind. Maybe someone from the PeaceCorp or a Professor or an Artist. Someone with something valuable to share aside from free drinks, and bad debt.

What should be noted here is that I knew the kind of people I'm talking about. During the same time that I was bedding complete morons, I was meeting and interacting with smart, kind, and exceptional people who I did not sleep with. I guess this was the price of being young and foolish and unable to see the good stuff as good instead of seeing the bad stuff as good. But I owe fate a debt of gratitude, for in the end, I married one of those extraordinary people.

What's that you say? You're dating this guy and he's a really good person, and oh yeah, he doesn't have a job, and oh yeah, he's got a couple kids, and oh yeah, he drinks too much, and oh yeah, he has a criminal record, and oh, you love him so much! Errrr, WHAT?

Are you insane? Wake the hell up! I beg of you. I can't take it anymore. I can't stand to bear witness to yet one more beautiful, young, smart (that's debatable if this scenario resembles you) young woman spend the best years of her life with her head securely stuck in her butt. I don't get it. It's 2010 and two years ago we nearly elected a woman president, yet there are still too many girls who avoid responsibility for their own lives and turn their backs on opportunities that didn't exist for their mothers and grandmothers. Opportunities that still don't exist for millions of women around the world.

There may be a hundred explanations for this phenomenon, but in the end they are only excuses. This life, this body, this YOU gets one spin around this marble, and the time you spend spinning between 18 and 30 will come and go in the blink of an eye.

We were all there once, exactly where you are now. I was too... (sigh). And in the end the mistakes we made cost us the one thing we can never recuperate. Time. Time wasted in bad relationships. Time wasted trying to fill the voids of our childhood with crap that would only rub us raw and deepen the hole. Then, when we finally wake up, we spend time trying to repair the damage we've done to ourselves by making stupid choices and mistakes. Sure, now that we're past all that and trying to reconcile all that wasted time, we say that we had to make all those mistakes to become who we are. Really? Did we? Why do so many women "find themselves" in their 40's and 50's rather than their 20's and 30's? Why do so many of us have to screw things up so badly for ourselves in our early adulthood we spend a decade or two trying to dig out? Why can't we be self-reflective and honest with ourselves earlier in our lives? We have the power. We are capable. Even if you're poor or uneducated you still have the ability to be honest with yourself and live your life accordingly. We know when we're doing something profoundly stupid and risky. We all possess the basic instinct to know when we're doing something that isn't good for us. So maybe it's time for these young women to start paying attention to their gut. To take two minutes and step back and reflect about why they're doing what they're doing.

Okay, my head's exploding. More anon.