On bullying - in memory of Bart Palosz

About a month before the end of my son’s eighth grade year*, I took him out of school for a doctor’s appointment. When the doctor asked my son to lift his shirt so he could listen to his heartbeat with a stethoscope, I was horrified to see words half written, half carved into his stomach with a ball point pen: I AM HATED.

Even as someone who spends every day expressing myself through words, it’s hard to find the right ones to describe how I felt seeing that carved into my son’s skin that morning. As a mother, you want to protect your children, from danger, from physical pain, and from emotional pain dealt out by the kind of insensitive kids who hurt you when you were their age. Seeing “I AM HATED” carved into my son’s skin, made me realize the depth of my failure.

It was no great secret that my son was having a difficult time in middle school. He has Asperger’s Syndrome, and while that means he got into Mensa at nine and his brain works in ways that never cease to fascinate me, it also results in the fact that he’s not your “typical” kid.

He is now in college, and fortunately his peers have matured enough to recognize that differences are what make our society and the world such an interesting place. Indeed, many of our greatest scientific discoveries and cultural achievements we made by people who didn’t fit our definition of “normal.” Albert Einstein, Andy Warhol, Vincent Van Gough, Satoshi Tajiri (inventor of Pokemon), Alan Turing, Thomas Jefferson, Sir Isaac Newton, are all thought to have had Aspergers. My son’s fascination with, and almost encyclopedic knowledge of international affairs makes him a great person to know if you’re interested in politics. He also has remarkable sense of humor.

But middle school, as I know from my own difficult experiences back in the Stone Age when it was called Junior High, is about fitting in. For those who don’t, it can be a tortuous, unforgiving place.

I’d been to my son’s school too many times to count to talk about the problems he’d had with bullying. There were phone calls. E-mails. Meetings with administrators. At one point we tried to set up a meeting the parents of a child with whom there were continuing issues. As a single mom, I asked to bring someone with me for support. The other parents refused to meet unless I came alone. The vice-principal shrugged and said, “What can I do?” The meeting never happened.

That pretty much summed up the school’s attitude. With the exception of one person in the building, the school psychologist, without whose genuine compassion and caring I’m not sure my son would have made it through middle school intact, the rest of the administration threw up their hands in helplessness and said, “What can we do?”

Perhaps if I hadn’t been engaged in a protracted divorce from my son’s dad I would have been able to devote more energy to fighting the school. In my “I’m a bad Mom” moments, I punish myself for not doing more. But that day in the doctor’s office, I was filled with an anger so fierce I wasn’t going to take any more excuses.

Shaking with rage, I drove back to school, had my son to wait in the car, and told the administration what I’d seen. I said my son wouldn’t be setting foot back in the building until they could guarantee him a safe environment.

For the next few days, I home schooled my son, while the administration tried to figure out what to do. Their solution? He would finish out his eight-grade year doing independent study in the guidance office. In other words, rather than dealing with the actual bullies, they would just hide him away, out of sight, so they could get the year over with and be done with the “problem.”

And sadly, that’s how it happened. The good news is that my son wasn’t being tormented for that last month and a half of eighth grade. But the tragedy is that once again, it was the victim who was punished.

As I contemplated with dread the thought of my son having to navigate the local high school with its student population of 2,700 students, Winston Preparatory School, a New York-based school for kids with learning differences announced it was opening a Connecticut campus. When headmistress, Beth Sugerman told me that my son was accepted, I burst into tears of relief.

You’d think it would be a happily ever after story from here on, but it wasn’t. My son was so used to being bullied, so reactive against everything and everyone, that it took him almost a year to realize that the world wasn’t his enemy. That’s one of the many reasons bullying sucks. The pain is deep, insidious and lasting, and that’s why we find that sometimes the bullied end up becoming bullies themselves.

I’m eternally grateful that there were resources within the family to send my son to a school where, once he realized that life was no longer going to be a day-to-day struggle for survival, he thrived. But as I am all too well aware, not everyone is as fortunate, and the Greenwich school district fights such placements tooth-and-nail, despite the fact that it’s clear they do not have the will power to deal with the problem of bullying themselves.

As research for my upcoming book with Scholastic, BAITED**, I read Barbara Coloroso's book, THE BULLY, THE BULLIED, AND THE BYSTANDER: From Preschool to High School How Parents and Teachers can help break the cycle of violence. I think this should be a town wide read, and basis for discussion. We have to stop the denial, stop pretending that this doesn't happen here in perfect Greenwich with our high SAT scores and our manicured lawns. It DOES. And Greenwich Public Schools is complicit in the denial and the enabling.

I learned something important when I was a docent at the Anne Frank exhibition at our high school back in 2003– Don’t be a bystander. As Edmund Burke said, “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” Okay, Burke’s one of those old dead guys who wrote a long time ago when women didn’t have the rights they have now, so I’m changing “men” to “people”. But here’s the thing. If you watch someone being bullied -in person or online - and you do nothing, you’re an accomplice. We all need to stand up to bullies – each and every one of us. It’s the only way to end the pain and prevent more tragic deaths.


*My son attended Western Middle School, the same middle school at which Bart Palosz allegedly experienced bullying. What makes me so furious is that so much time has passed and nothing has been done. GPS continues to protect the bullies over the bullied.


** Edited later:  The title of BAITED has been changed to BACKLASH. 

Penn State, leadership and faith

I did a presentation at the CT Writing Project's Young Writer's Institute this morning, and met a High School student who asked me to sign two of my books. She told me she particularly loved CONFESSIONS OF A CLOSET CATHOLIC because her mother converted from Catholicism to Islam when she married, so there are times when she's sitting in church feeling like Jussy. She also told me about going to a family event at the church her mom grew up in where the priest yelled at her mother to leave and told her she no longer belonged there.

We talked about Confessions and told her that in my experience the people with deep faith, rather than dogmatic faith, are the most accepting, because they recognize we we all pray to one G-d so we should look for the commonalities we share rather than the rituals that divide us.

I've been thinking about the definition of "a good person" recently, especially how one can go through the motions of being a faithful, "good" and even lauded member of the community - a much admired leader - yet beneath the surface have a flaw that makes mockery of this.

I speak, of course, of the late Joe Paterno.

At the time of his death, Paterno was lauded, particularly by members of his church, where he was a regular.

The Dumas' one a fellow Penn State professors and the other, a senior lecturer, lauded Paterno thusly:

"It's not only a great loss for us of a great benefactor and a great man," Mr. Dumas said, "but our country lost. He showed us an example of what it is to be a coach and a teacher."

"And human being," Mrs. Dumas added.

Mr. Dumas continued, "I'm sorry that we could not have had a better ending for this great man. When Victor Hugo died in Paris, everybody ran around the streets shouting, 'Hugo is dead! Hugo is dead! Our hero is dead!' That is the ending I would have liked to have seen for Joe Paterno, because he is our Victor Hugo."

Yesterday, the results of an independent investigation into the sexual abuse scandal and cover up by Louis Freeh was released. I made the mistake of reading it while I was eating lunch. It was truly sickening.

“Four of the most powerful people at The Pennsylvania State University — President Graham B. Spanier, Senior Vice President-Finance and Business Gary C. Schultz, Athletic Director Timothy M. Curley and Head Football Coach Joseph V. Paterno — failed to protect against a child sexual predator harming children for over a decade. These men concealed Sandusky’s activities from the Board of Trustees, the University community and authorities. They exhibited a striking lack of empathy for Sandusky’s victims.

Moreover, after McQueary witnessed Sandusky raping a boy in the shower in Feb 9th 2001 and reported it to Paterno on Sat Feb 10th, Paterno waited to inform Curly and Schultz until the following day because he "did not want to interfere with their weekends." Very Christian of him. (seethes)

Paterno then interfered when the plan was to report Sandusky to Dept of Welfare. An email from Curley to Schultz and Spanier says he changed his mind "after giving it more thought and talking it over with Joe (Paterno) yesterday."

As a result, Sandusky went on to abuse more children and damage more lives.

Who would make such a choice? Was that the choice of a godly, church going man? Was that the choice of a "great man"? Someone who is "an example of a coach and a teacher"?

No. It's the choice of someone with hubris.It's the choice of someone who would rather sacrifice the lives of innocent young men for the "greater good" of his legacy. If it pricked his conscience at all he could point generosity as a benefactor for good causes and all the fine young men (the ones who weren't as poor and vulnerable and thus escaped Sandusky's clutches) to graduate from the football program at Penn State, the ones who helped to earn him his all-time Division 1 football wins record.

Paterno, the Dumas', the higher leadership of Penn State, the students who rioted when Paterno was fired and the folks who raised a statue to this man, are all in denial, and denial is one of the biggest factors that allows sexual abuse to continue. The perpetrator is, of course, the most guilty party, but those around the perpetrator who choose denial are complicit in the crime.

Sandusky could have been stopped in 1998. Paterno lied to the grand jury about his knowledge of that incident. Sandusky could have certainly been stopped in 2001. But the ego of a supposedly "great" man, a man held up as an "example"caused him to make choices that resulted in the abuse of more children.

And did Paterno go to his grave feeling bad about this? Apparently not. Two days ago, a never published op ed he wrote before his death shows his continued arrogance and denial. It is all about protecting his legacy with not a word of compassion for Sandusky's victims. They don't even rate a mention.

I only started speaking publicly about my own abuse last year, and part of the reason I have continued to do so, and now have offered my services as a speaker to The Center for Sexual Abuse Crisis Counseling and Education is so that both teens and adults understand the importance of destroying the culture of complicity and denial. Denial is my sworn enemy and as Winston Churchill said, "whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender."

We shall fight it in the religious institutions, we shall fight it in the Universities, we shall fight it in families, we shall fight it in schools, we shall fight it in the military, we shall fight it in Congress, we shall fight it in our communities, until our children our safe.