2010-02-04

For Phoebe.

My heart breaks for Phoebe Prince, the girl who was bullied to the point where she committed suicide. It breaks for her family, and for her friends. The town in which she had only been living for 6 months remains practically indifferent, even as surrounding communities - and now - the nation, demand answers. How was this allowed to happen? South Hadley, with a population of close to 20,000, only had 100 of its residents show up to a town meeting to express concern. SHHS students burst in uninvited to a Facebook page created in memory of the dead girl, to tell everyone "u dont kno wat happnd so dont pretend like u do."

Pray - please tell me, o ye sonnes and dohters of Olde South Hadley: what crucial piece of information am I missing here? That she had it coming? That the girls who drove her to hang herself in her closet feel reeeeealllly bad now? That this is the way things have always been, and everybody just accepts it?

The parents of the girls who bullied Phoebe now all have lawyers, presumably because their children have "rights."

Listen - Phoebe Prince had the right to attend school without fear of being tormented. She had the right to graduate from that school and choose to continue her life in America, or back in Ireland. She had the right to become an adult, have a career, go on vacations, spend time with loved ones.

Those rights were taken away from her. Phoebe Prince is dead, and her family has a RIGHT to know why.

I can't afford the luxury of anger. I have to live with a certain level of acceptance and forgiveness in my heart in order to keep what I have. But I am angry. Jesus God, it's hard to keep afloat when you're faced with being just about swept away by a tsunami of rage. It is so difficult to come from a place of understanding and compassion when confronted with this kind of cruelty, with administrative apathy, and with this still pervasive attitude that "kids will be kids" and bullying is just a part of growing up.

Too, there's a feeling that Phoebe's actions were extreme, that she should've bucked up and realized it was only temporary. To this I say - if you were not bullied yourself, you cannot possibly understand the depths of despair she was in. You didn't have to daily enter a hostile environment, where nobody was on your side, either because nobody cared or everyone was too frightened to stand up for you. You didn't have to feel as though there would be no end to it, with no sense that you would emerge from it, limping but somewhat triumphant. You didn't have the kind of fear that renders you blind to any kind of perspective. I hope you never have to experience that kind of hopelessness.

There was virtually no respite from bullying, for me, in those pre-internet days. I wasn't even allowed my weekends. The girls would have sleepover parties and part of the evening's "entertainment" would be prank-calling my house. I changed schools, but even that didn't help. The girls at my former school merely enlisted girls they knew at my new school to pick right back up where they had left off.

I will never cease to be utterly gobsmacked by their cruelty, even if I now understand - somewhat - where it was coming from. I have long since forgiven those girls, knowing as I do now that there were things going on with them, with their families. But forgiveness does not mandate that I forget about what happened.

This was over 25 years ago, and I still carry the scars. You don't "get over it," not completely. My parents had the good sense to get me into counseling right away, but you don't "outgrow" the psychic wounds that are the direct result of 2 years of daily mental and verbal abuse. It harmed me, and it also shaped me. I am impervious to some things, and extremely sensitive to others. Only until just recently have I made it a real point to seek out genuine friendships with other women, to learn to enjoy their company.

Bullying is a hate crime, and make no mistake -- it's TRAUMA. Perhaps it's not as "bad" as witnessing or experiencing physical abuse, but I have also learned that I don't need to quantify, or qualify, my experience with trauma.

Even still, though, my instinct is to downplay it, or take the lion's share of the blame. I was a wiseass. I wrote snarky things about my classmates. Perhaps I needed to be called out.

No. I in no way deserved what I ultimately got.

Phoebe's story makes me realize that I need to finish what I started back in November. I need to finish writing MY story, even if it ultimately never leaves my desktop.

Beautiful girl, I am so sorry this happened to you. How I wish you could have seen how loved you were, and how I hope your death will not have been in vain.

lisamcc at 1:26 p.m.

3 comments so far
Lynette
2010-02-07 04:23:44
I love you.
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Andrea
2010-02-07 13:15:05
This makes me sick to my stomach. The cruelty, it is unreal. That poor girl. I see her picture and want to give her a hug. I have my own terrible memories of being bullied on a few occasions, but I consider myself lucky that it was not a constant in my life. Like you, Brian was the target of serious bullying and it's something he still deals with today. Thanks for writing this, Lisa. I wish I could say something more eloquent about all of this, but words fail me. What happened to you was horrific.
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Jess
2010-02-19 18:30:22
As someone who was known as "The Dyke" during my jr. year of high school, I feel your & Phoebe's pain. Horrible.
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