I thought for a long time before writing, and then posting, this blog. Do I want to give this boy more attention that he doesn't deserve? Do I want to make myself as vulnerable as this post makes me (but that's what I always do, right? When am I ever not a spectacle?) Will I get in trouble at work? All these are questions I considered before writing, but I've always done what I think to be right. I'm not going to stop now.
I guess about four years ago now, a student I was close to told me that another student of mine, who now goes to Northwestern University, had posted a link to my blog on a private Facebook page for students along with (incorrect) commentary about my having cheated on my ex-Glenn who was at that time not my ex. The next time I saw the boy who posted the link, I spoke to him about it, and although I don't remember the response, I do know that it turned out okay enough that the next year when he was no longer my student, he sent me a Facebook friend request, which I accepted because unless I absolutely can't stand a person, I accept his or her request. In the time since, almost all interaction we've had has been decidedly not on the friendly side, but still, I kept him as a friend because for whatever reason, unfriending a person on Facebook seems like such a huge thing.
Well. Last week I posted a Twitter poll that Griffin wanted me to have people vote on, and that opposite of friendly? The only word I can think to replace it with is ignominious even if it doesn't quite fit. Feel free to take a look here. I made it public for your viewing pleasure.
(But I have to warn you, it's reallyyyy long. For those of you who like shortcuts, here's the comment prompting this blog.)
I have to be honest with you. The post made me laugh when I read it at first. Not only did the boy's obvious effort to "hit me where it hurts" render everything he said ineffective but so did the fact that what he said was either ludicrous or completely true--sometimes both (my sons are skinny? Yes. I purposely made them that way, so thank God for that. They look like Marxists? Griffin's college application essay, which I was super proud of, said he was that exact thing. Griffin and I look like a 10 next to each other? Women are supposed to have curves, young man. A lot of men are pretty happy I have the ones I do). I replied to his comment, put my phone on night time, and went to bed.
The next day, save for a very apologetic message from one of the girls on the post who said there was no excuse for the boy and what he had done to me, I didn't think about the incident again until the middle of the day when a former student from the same graduating class, 2015, sent me a text telling me I was the subject of discussion on what I assume had been, until the night of "the interaction," a defunct Facebook page (the same page where the link to my blog had been posted four years earlier). A few minutes later, another former student texted me letting me know the same thing.
Also for your viewing pleasure, the post that prompted the flurry of activity is here:
Not long after I was sent this picture, I learned that my current sophomores were talking about the comment that "broke the internet" (yeah. Because this boy is significant enough to do that). In a fairly small IB program with lots of siblings and cousins and people from close-knit cultural groups, that was completely inevitable. Still, I was a little surprised news had traveled that fast.
And here's where I get to my point. One of them anyway.
The first one is that, although I wasn't upset in any way by what the boy had written to/about me, I'd be lying if I didn't say I wasn't upset about the discussion about me and the liking of the post by the kids from 2015, several who were "friends" of mine, one or two that I happened to like very much (one who I actually thought was one of the nicest, most virtuous kids I had ever known and whose family I admired because her brother is amazing, too (I guess we can omit that, "too," can't we?). I always say my judge-of-character skills leave something to be desired (but not bad enough to not have known the instigator of that post possessed an extreme lack of character. That one I already knew)). I spent a lot of time between the time school ended and the time I got home feeling horribly hurt, and like I told the girl who sent me the apologetic message when we spent two hours talking to each other later that day, it made me not want to care about any student ever again. And I meant it.
Until last night.
Last night while I was grocery shopping, a former student sent me a message on Instagram. Extremely depressed, he felt like he didn't have anything or anyone and like he didn't deserve any happiness in this world. He was feeling horrible and alone, and he needed someone, and he reached out to me. To me. And at that point, you know how much I cared about the two-faced members of the class of 2015?
(I think you can answer that for yourself.)
Which brings me to reason number two for writing this blog.
Cyberbullying. To some it sounds like such a silly thing. Just turn the computer off, people say. There's no such thing.
I don't know that I would classify what this boy did to me as cyberbullying since for bullying there needs to be an imbalance of power, and I'm definitely not less powerful than this boy, but think of the damage that could have been done here. What if I were less secure than I am? If this had happened five to ten years ago, I'd have been devastated. What if I could no longer teach because his actions, and in turn, select members of 2015's actions had made the school environment hostile and uncomfortable? He wouldn't just be affecting my life but the lives of 166 students as well. What if he used the words he used against me against someone else? Someone young? Someone less secure? A sad, impressionable girl? Someone capable of talking to a former teacher in this misogynistic manner, body and age shaming, is certainly capable of using this language against someone else.
And I'm sure I don't have to tell you this, but that's not okay. Sure, I found his words laughable.
But the next girl he doesn't like may not.
I guess about four years ago now, a student I was close to told me that another student of mine, who now goes to Northwestern University, had posted a link to my blog on a private Facebook page for students along with (incorrect) commentary about my having cheated on my ex-Glenn who was at that time not my ex. The next time I saw the boy who posted the link, I spoke to him about it, and although I don't remember the response, I do know that it turned out okay enough that the next year when he was no longer my student, he sent me a Facebook friend request, which I accepted because unless I absolutely can't stand a person, I accept his or her request. In the time since, almost all interaction we've had has been decidedly not on the friendly side, but still, I kept him as a friend because for whatever reason, unfriending a person on Facebook seems like such a huge thing.
Well. Last week I posted a Twitter poll that Griffin wanted me to have people vote on, and that opposite of friendly? The only word I can think to replace it with is ignominious even if it doesn't quite fit. Feel free to take a look here. I made it public for your viewing pleasure.
(But I have to warn you, it's reallyyyy long. For those of you who like shortcuts, here's the comment prompting this blog.)
I have to be honest with you. The post made me laugh when I read it at first. Not only did the boy's obvious effort to "hit me where it hurts" render everything he said ineffective but so did the fact that what he said was either ludicrous or completely true--sometimes both (my sons are skinny? Yes. I purposely made them that way, so thank God for that. They look like Marxists? Griffin's college application essay, which I was super proud of, said he was that exact thing. Griffin and I look like a 10 next to each other? Women are supposed to have curves, young man. A lot of men are pretty happy I have the ones I do). I replied to his comment, put my phone on night time, and went to bed.
The next day, save for a very apologetic message from one of the girls on the post who said there was no excuse for the boy and what he had done to me, I didn't think about the incident again until the middle of the day when a former student from the same graduating class, 2015, sent me a text telling me I was the subject of discussion on what I assume had been, until the night of "the interaction," a defunct Facebook page (the same page where the link to my blog had been posted four years earlier). A few minutes later, another former student texted me letting me know the same thing.
Also for your viewing pleasure, the post that prompted the flurry of activity is here:
Not long after I was sent this picture, I learned that my current sophomores were talking about the comment that "broke the internet" (yeah. Because this boy is significant enough to do that). In a fairly small IB program with lots of siblings and cousins and people from close-knit cultural groups, that was completely inevitable. Still, I was a little surprised news had traveled that fast.
And here's where I get to my point. One of them anyway.
The first one is that, although I wasn't upset in any way by what the boy had written to/about me, I'd be lying if I didn't say I wasn't upset about the discussion about me and the liking of the post by the kids from 2015, several who were "friends" of mine, one or two that I happened to like very much (one who I actually thought was one of the nicest, most virtuous kids I had ever known and whose family I admired because her brother is amazing, too (I guess we can omit that, "too," can't we?). I always say my judge-of-character skills leave something to be desired (but not bad enough to not have known the instigator of that post possessed an extreme lack of character. That one I already knew)). I spent a lot of time between the time school ended and the time I got home feeling horribly hurt, and like I told the girl who sent me the apologetic message when we spent two hours talking to each other later that day, it made me not want to care about any student ever again. And I meant it.
Until last night.
Last night while I was grocery shopping, a former student sent me a message on Instagram. Extremely depressed, he felt like he didn't have anything or anyone and like he didn't deserve any happiness in this world. He was feeling horrible and alone, and he needed someone, and he reached out to me. To me. And at that point, you know how much I cared about the two-faced members of the class of 2015?
(I think you can answer that for yourself.)
Which brings me to reason number two for writing this blog.
Cyberbullying. To some it sounds like such a silly thing. Just turn the computer off, people say. There's no such thing.
I don't know that I would classify what this boy did to me as cyberbullying since for bullying there needs to be an imbalance of power, and I'm definitely not less powerful than this boy, but think of the damage that could have been done here. What if I were less secure than I am? If this had happened five to ten years ago, I'd have been devastated. What if I could no longer teach because his actions, and in turn, select members of 2015's actions had made the school environment hostile and uncomfortable? He wouldn't just be affecting my life but the lives of 166 students as well. What if he used the words he used against me against someone else? Someone young? Someone less secure? A sad, impressionable girl? Someone capable of talking to a former teacher in this misogynistic manner, body and age shaming, is certainly capable of using this language against someone else.
And I'm sure I don't have to tell you this, but that's not okay. Sure, I found his words laughable.
But the next girl he doesn't like may not.
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