There really isn’t anything I can say about the explosions at the Boston Marathon that hasn’t already been said, and better, by thousands of other people. I am not ashamed to admit that we haven’t even been following the news coverage beyond the initial reports; it is too horrible and graphic a subject for me to comfortable allow my children to see, or at least Owen and Josie. Sam is on Facebook-he already saw the carnage wrought. Me, well. I saw a couple of pictures, read a couple of stories, and that was that. Not because I don’t care-the opposite is true. It just gets to be too much.
The last little while has been full of heartbreak. A young man in our small little town hung himself in his garage last week, a seventeen year old who had just…had enough. I did not know him personally, although I know his dad. A couple of years ago his mom died after a non-complicated knee surgery; she worked at the elementary school as long as my kids have gone to school here. The boy’s father was the principal of the alternative high school and was instrumental in getting Hannah into school and graduated after she got pregnant and had Aubry. There is also another son who is Hannah’s age, and really, all I can think is that in the span of less than three years, their family has been diminished by half. Sam says he was a really good kid, a nice kid. A good, nice kid who was picked on and bullied every.single.day. I sometimes kind of roll my eyes mentally about all of the anti-bullying stuff on the news and whatnot, but then I think of my own high school years, of my children, of this young man, and I think that whether we roll our eyes on occasion or not, this kind of stuff has to stop.
The thing about it is this: kids don’t care. The only people who really care are the adults, and there is so little we can do. I say this because the day after this boy died, Sam was being picked on horribly by someone for wanting to try out for the cheer-leading team. I believe the words faggot and pussy both were thrown around, and it just infuriates me. Of course because he is my son, but on a much larger scale. Hmm, let’s see, let’s go to this assembly where the topic is suicide and bullying, and let’s listen to the counselors talk about how important it is to respect other people simply because they are people….and then let’s see if we can tear someone ELSE down.
I cannot say, and surely no one can, whether or not bullying was the CAUSE of the suicide. He had a lot of horrible things happen in a relatively short period of time, but being bullied surely did not help.
And now this in Boston, and the headlines in our local paper about three different people who were just convicted of horrible sex crimes against children, and the newborn baby that was found floating in a pond wherever that was, and the little boy I saw slapped by his mother…all of these things large and small just serve to break my heart today.