“I am a rare species, not a stereotype.”
Ivan Coyote
She sat alone, huddled
Against the cold
On the schoolyard,
A little girl of only six;
The other children
Swarmed around her,
Their laughter ringing
Through the air
As they ran and darted
In play.
They paid cursory attention
To the little girl,
She who did not fit
Into their pigeon-holes,
Who did not lessen herself
To have their approval,
So time wasn't something
They were willing to waste
On one with seemingly so little
To recommend her.
So she kept to herself,
And to her own world,
Where beauty and honor
Were requisites not restricted
To outer consumption.
Her voice was rarely heard
Above the shouts and voices
Of the other children,
And yet,
No one was ever mistaken
About who she was and
Where she stood
Even at her young age.
I can't help thinking that that little girl was you. To be excluded by your peers is a very hurtful thing. It shouldn't happen to anyone but does. People rail against "inclusion" but they are ignorant people and they need to be ignored.
My recollection of grade school was racing out into the gravel playground with my twin brother to try out all of the heavy duty industrial style swings, teeter totters and single large merry-go-round in the far corner. But mostly to play rough games with friends and escape much older bullies grabbing at my shirt and pulling the buttons off as I escaped every time from there frustrated attempts to catch me.
There is much truth in this my friend. how many great minds and hearts grew to greatness from introverted, shy or for whatever reason "quiet" children.
Inside the Methadone Clinic. Addiction to heroin, methadone, and other opiates. Destruction. The primal addiction" of the child, power and control over your own life, the institutions and the characters, the love between a mother and son. This book i
The true story of Cheryl Pierson Cuccio who made headlines in 1986 and her husband Rob Cuccio. Cheryl was abused sexually and physically and Rob died for 43 minutes on Cheryl's 43rd birthday.
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My recollection of grade school was racing out into the gravel playground with my twin brother to try out all of the heavy duty industrial style swings, teeter totters and single large merry-go-round in the far corner. But mostly to play rough games with friends and escape much older bullies grabbing at my shirt and pulling the buttons off as I escaped every time from there frustrated attempts to catch me.
I was never glad to get back in the classroom.
Ron
PS