I have a multitude of regrets in my life. Perhaps none more pervasive, or haunting, than that of the bullying I've witnessed, been victim to, or been a part of at different stages of my existence. This is one of the demons I choose to chase, rather than run from, in what I hope to become a habit forming venture in my 'new' life...the run.
Bullying is one of those high-profile, oft overused terms in our society today and, frankly, an issue I admittedly paid little heed to until it affected me directly as a parent. You see, what I had done, in my own manner of therapy, was manage to bury the various incidents of which I had been a part of, directly or not, growing into young adulthood. I tucked them away, very comfortably and neatly, hoping never to have those shameful memories invade my conscience again. I guess our Gods work in very mysterious ways, because since the issue has affected my son, I have not been able to let go; of him, and the repetitive nature of his encounters, or of those which have silently pursued me my entire life. This is why I run.
I run for the 'friends' of whom I inwardly feared; for the kid who was just a little bit larger than me, and used that to his advantage whenever he deemed appropriate. You know, the one that hides behind the veil of kinship, only to turn on you and betray that fragile bond, or trust, at a moments' notice, like a venomous snake, coiled and ready to strike. What I realize, or 'see' now, is, that this isn't necessarily the person he wanted to be, but rather the result of his own abusive relationship with an absentee parent. He had become the statistic in a household where he was forced to raise not only himself, but his brother...and he was lost. For all of the times he took those frustrations out on me, I am sorry. I am sorry because it causes me to wonder what thoughts had gone through the minds of others, when the tables were turned...
I run for those for whose trust I have betrayed, at some point or other, in our relationships, and marvel at their capacity to forgive. I have an aged mind, more than likely as a matter of convenience, when it comes to issues of my propensity for this behavior. To their credit, my friends, and I continue to call them friends with their grace and permission, have not been as willing to let me off the hook. I have been reminded, on several occasions, about past transgressions of which I was a part, and had one dear soul go so far as to tell me, 'It's okay, though. I forgive you.' Talk about a humility check.
Typically, I pride myself in the way I treat others I consider to be acquaintances, if not close friends, but it is their willingness to hold the mirror in front of me which had caused me to reflect, and admit, that there is just as much guilt in by-standing as there is in participation. In fact, it may be a more egregious sin, because the passive nature of ones' response is firmly within their control; meaning, there is more that could, and should, have been done...
I run for those for whom I did nothing, and for whom I bear the most remorse; for the girl that rode my bus growing up, and faced relentless attacks, almost daily, while I, and other cowards who shared the same route, sat by idly...and watched. She was badgered, had books knocked out of her hands, spit balls thrown at her, drinks poured on her and we sat there. The bus driver sat there. But, why? What did this innocent child do to any of the rest of us? What did she do to her tormentors, to cause such vicious and inhumane attacks? Was it because her clothes were a little different, or her house wasn't as nice? Was it because she had to wear glasses, out of need, that weren't quite as stylish as they would have wanted? What has become of her? Better yet, what has become of them? Do they harbor the same guilt and shame that I've carried with me for over 30 years? Have they shed tears on countless occasions, asking their God to forgive them for their actions, or inaction? I hope today, wherever she may be, she can find it in her heart to forgive me...
I run for my son; for the courage he's shown in undertaking his box top collection venture. I applaud him for standing up and saying, 'My disability is not an excuse for you to attempt to take advantage of me. I won't allow it'. I admire him for asking others, many complete strangers, to stand with him; to show solidarity through clipping, and saving and mailing these, Box Tops For Education, some 5,500 to date. I exalt him for saying, 'Thank You for your effort, but it's not enough'. It will never be enough. This is one of the reasons we've chosen to honor those willing to take the time, and dedicate themselves to this cause, by placing their name on the back of the shirt, or shirts, I will wear in this year's mini marathon, here in Indianapolis; the simple, selfless act of sending box tops to him, at his school, to say, 'We've got your back'.
I realize there are many who have read my blog, that have no idea what a box top is, but are curious as to how they can help. Well, friends in Canada, Germany, Russia, Great Britain, The Netherlands, The Ukraine, Australia, New Zealand, Paraguay, Uganda, Guatemala, Peru, Iraq, Poland, Iceland, Sweden, Italy, Korea, India, Afghanistan, Japan, St. Kitts and Nevis, Belize, Haiti and others I have missed...you are in luck. Send me a coin, pin, or trinket indicating your support of the mission, and I will carry you on my back as well. I will include anyone and everyone who chooses to stand beside my son, and run with me.
We all deserve to live the best life possible. At times it takes a difficult lesson to come to this conclusion, but the truth is irrefutable. There is no excuse for intolerance, only acceptance of others. Oh, and the realization that forgiveness is a key component; and attainable. Ask and you shall receive, but you have to be willing to forgive yourself first...and let go. And run.
The address:
Makenley Deuschle
C/O Robey Elementary
8700 W 30th St.
Indianapolis, Indiana 46234
USA
Share to make aware,
Scott
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