Please Check This site out For Erin: http://www.twloha.com/index.php
Our community and school district are having to face the very real cold hard fact that bullying is real and it kills. On Tuesday, May 15, 2012 a 17 year old girls body was found lifeless, alone in the woods near our local community college. She had chose to take her life because of the unbearable pain of bullying. I am dedicating today's blog to this young lady and all of those who feel like they are only seen as less than zero and feel stifled by the cruelness that surrounds them. This is for you Erin Foley and all that are with you in God's arms now. For those still here with us suffering from this, please, please, read this! There is hope<3
"Hate is like acid. It destroys everything it is poured on and damages the vessel in which it is carried" ~ Anonymous
"Embrace the unknown. Do not fear it, for there may be a beautiful lesson in which you can make a difference". ~Danielle
"United we stand. Divided We fall"! ~
A Short Note To Erin~
Erin,
I did not know you but I feel as if I do now, with all of the wonderful things I have read about you. I have had the honor of seeing a few pictures of you that your Brother Adam had posted to his wall and graciously made them public for people to see. I saw a very kind and gentle looking young woman. A beautiful and unique person. I especially enjoyed the picture of you feeding the dog a chicken nugget. Somehow that simple moment in that picture told me you were the type of person that probably would have given the shirt off your back to someone in need if only given the chance. I was told a little about the types of horrible things your fellow peers had done to you in school regularly. Somehow though, through all of that you became an advocate for other kids like yourself. It broke my heart after reading about your involvement with "To Write Love On Her Arms" only to fall victim to the very thing you were trying so hard and lovingly to overcome. Erin, I want you to know that your life and your death was not in vain. There a lot of of people making sure of this. Your life has inspired so many to take a stand and speak loudly in this fight and it has taught so many other's to not stand by quietly while someone is being torn apart because they are not what others expect them to be. I know that I am a better person for having heard your story and making a life long connection with you even though we never formally met. I want to say thank you Erin, for all of the beautiful things your life has and will create from the day forward. You were and still are Special, Beautiful, Kind, Loving, Giving and Unique. You are now in a place where all are loved and are equal, No pain and no longing to fit in. I can only hope that one day when I arrive I will be given the privilege of wrapping my arms around you and saying "Thank You"....
All My Love,
Dani
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I am going to share 2 stories with my readers on something very personal and very hard for me to share. It is the story of my very own Son and Brother. Both were bullied though in different settings but bullied just the same. They both attempted suicide, though one didn't succeed and the other did. So please, let what I tell you in your hearts and use them as the fuel needed to combat bullying and teenage suicide.
The Story Of My Brother Randy:
Let me tell you a bit about him in the cliff notes version. Randy was a handsome, sweet, intelligent, loving, kind young man. He could have been anything he wanted. Intelligence was something that came so easily to him. I remember him always taking things apart that had a motor or batteries in it and turning it into something completely different and really cool. He also liked to play with Barbies as a kid. This was frowned upon by our Mother and other's that were supposed love him unconditionally. I, on the other hand, loved the fact that I had a Brother that loved to play Barbies and house with his big sister. I never saw anything wrong with that. I was always so baffled as to why our mother would call him hateful names and slap him around for it. I remember being so sad and angry every time my mother would do this. I didn't see anything wrong with it, I really thought he was just the coolest little Brother ever.
Skip ahead several years:
My mother and Brother moved back home to Delaware where I was raised for a large part of my life when my Mother remarried for the fifth time. Things did not work out between her and her fifth husband (which was no surprise) so she moved back here and moved in with myself and my daughter who was 2 yrs old at the time. My Brother stayed behind and tried to make a go of his life on his own but soon realized he wanted to be back in New York with me. He returned here a few months after our mother. Shortly after his arrival, my mother had met another man and moved in with him. My Brother continued to live with me and helped me with my kids.( Shortly before he moved back here I had given birth to my Son.) During this time, my Brother had opened up to me and told me he was gay. He wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know. Nonetheless, I wrapped my arms around him and told him I loved him no matter what.
I remember the first time he had decided to venture out to the local gay bar in our area. I was so afraid for him that I made him let his big sister walk with him there and make sure he got in OK because there had been a gentleman who was beaten up severely after leaving that bar, not long before my brother had decided to go. There, he had met a wonderful man named Ted. I was staying at my mother's that night for some reason, can't remember why. But, my Brother had stopped by to ask me for the house keys because he had forgotten his. I asked him how it went and he said he had met someone. I remember being so nervous because I didn't know if this guy was truly gay or was he one of these wackos looking to harm my Brother because he was not society's take on the traditional man. My Brother insisted everything was fine, and it was. To make a long story short, my Brother's relationship blossomed so much so he felt the need to come out to our mother. Let's just say, she wasn't at all receptive. She began calling him all sorts of horrible names, told him she wanted nothing to do with him anymore. My Brother left with tears in his eyes and his head hung low. I returned home shortly after giving my mother a thorough tongue lashing to comfort my Brother. We talked for hours, laughing and crying and I truly thought that I had helped him feel better about himself and who God made him to be.
Unfortunately, I was wrong. Months later on October 11, 1995 my Brother had taken an entire bottle of Verapamil. This medication is a cardiac med. The pills were my mother's ironically and the medication that was meant to heal a sick heart did the opposite and exploded the broken heart within my Brother's chest. I am not going to get into detail about the day of his death. Someday, I will write extensively about everything leading up to that day and the day itself. For now, I will say my life has never been the same since October 11, 1995 at 3:11 pm. You see, my Brother was bullied too, though by his own family, it impacted him so much so, he took his life at the young age of 19. So, Mom's, Dad's, Sister's, Brother's, Grandparent's, Aunt's and Uncle's and all other's who matter to these kids, STOP! THINK! with your hearts, before you slam the door in their faces and tare them down with your words. Because, there may not be a tomorrow to take it back and build a loving and understanding everlasting relationship with them, All you'll have left is regret, and a headstone to apologize to.
My Son Phillip
His story is of pain and triumph.
Oh my sweet little man. Everyday I look at him he inspires me. He has to be one of the most, strongest loving people I know. Most of his school career aside from high school was a nightmare. He was bullied daily both physically and verbally. I remember him coming home with tears in his eyes, broken glasses and foot prints on his chest from being cornered in the boys bathroom by hateful peers. You see Phillip was special. He had a learning disability, a lazy eye which requires him to wear glasses and ADHD,and gay Mom's to top it off. Instead of kids looking past these things to see what a wonderful loving kid he was, they used them as weapons against him. They would call him names like, 4 eyed fagot, retard, fat ass, loser. Tell him he was a scumbag, that nobody was ever going to like him. I remember so many times holding this sweet, beautiful child in my arms and trying so desperately to stay strong and not cry with him, while trying to make him believe he was everything but those horrible things. Time passed, I fought with the school district and got no where.
Then one morning, my daughter came barreling down the hallway screaming, "Mommy! I just caught Phillip trying to hang himself on the bunk bed". Again my world came to a halt. All I could think while running down the hall was I can't do this again and praying I would have the strength to help my Son. I entered the room and saw the belt hanging from the top bunk and my precious angel sitting on the floor in tears, looking defeated. He was 10 yrs old. 10! I remember feeling defeated myself and unheard by the school. I immediately scooped him up and held him so tight as if my life depended on it. After sitting and crying with him and rocking back and forth I made some calls to see about him being counseling. The school acted very concerned and talked of making this stop but it did not happen.
After this incident, I had decided from there on out I would be driving him to school everyday because he not only suffered the abuse in school he also endured it on the bus ride home. Every morning I would pull up at the back of Wiley and watch him climb up the stairs to enter those double doors. One day, while watching him walk up the stairs I witnessed his abuse first hand with my own eyes and it became the break we were waiting for.
As Phillip ascended the stairs, and got to the top, I saw a group of boys staring at him and whispering as he climbed the stairs closing in on the top. What happened next sent me flying. As Phillip reached the top one of the boys, who I later found out was one of my Son's regular tormentors, grabs my Son's new hat off his head. My Son was trying to grab it to get it back and the boy brings his fist down punching my Son in the side of the neck! I jumped out of my car and ran up those stairs and grabbed the little punk by the shirt and escorted him all the way to the office. The whole time telling him, "You made a huge mistake, I'm his Mama and I saw the whole thing" ! " You see young man, I don't turn my head to bullies like you, I eat them for breakfast"! I think the young man may have pissed his pants a little because he kept begging me to not take him to the office. I then arrive at the office and not at all in my inside voice proceed to scream with tears streaming down my face! I made a huge scene! They took my Son to one office and the young man to another. Then I stood at the little round table with my chest puffed out and my voice high telling every single adult in that room that something is going to be done today or I am going to the media about how much this school really gives a damn about our children. I then proceeded to remind them of Columbine. My tongue spitting out the cold hard truth of blindness and ignorance causing needless deaths. Needless to say, I WAS HEARD THAT DAY!!! From that day on they took my Son's bullying more seriously because they new if they didn't there was going to be a media frenzy that was going to paint an ugly picture about the truth in our school system. For the first time my Son had hope. He knew he had someone listening and it was no longer falling on deaf ears. That little bit of hope continued slowly, growing into something beautiful, something wonderful.
As the years went on, I would have to say they got a little better. 8th grade seemed to be the magic year that things really started to make my Phip's feel like he truly fit in. He became very interested in skateboarding. He skateboarded in all his free time. He practiced and practiced, Ollie's, Kick Flips, Manuals, etc. so he could show them off after school. The other skater's noticed him. Before I knew it, he had tons of friends over to skate and my wife and the boys would be building things for them to do stunts on. The kids were even calling us Big Mom and Lil' Mom like our own do. I cannot explain to you the happiness that flooded my heart as I watched that once lonely, afraid, broken child, now smiling and feeling like he belonged for the first time.
Phillip is now a Jr. getting ready to go into his Senior year. He is happier than ever and well known in school. I still get a huge cheesy grin on my face when I pick him up and see the guys shaking his hand and saying, "What's up my man? When are we getting together to work on that track"? Because, now Phillip is following his dreams in music producing, and a lot of people love his work. He has come a long way since kindergarten-7th grade. How? Hope and faith! Having someone to fight for him and stopping at nothing to keep him happy and safe.
Be that someone to a kid! Whether you know them or not. BE THEIR HOPE! Putting yourself out there, to protect that one kid can change that kids entire life. I would rather be remembered by students who enter the school after I graduate as the kid who changed one life or several, not the pretty cheerleader or star athlete. Those things are superficial. Standing up and fighting for what's right will prove to be the part of you that will inspire and keep giving back. It will inspire other's to jump off the peer pressure wagon and hop on the wagon of Hope, Love and Kindness.
Parents,
I cannot stress enough how important it is to stay diligent in your kid's lives. Any signs of withdraw or depression dig as deep as you can to find the root of the problem even if it means you have to go into their rooms and search for clues. Don't brush it off as a phase please. If you have overcame an adversity, share it with your child. It could make a huge difference. If your child is being bullied, fight, be loud, create a scene until someone hears you. You are their voices when they can't be heard and no one else will listen.
I hope this blog touches as many peoples hearts as possible and you take something useful from it. It was very hard to type through the tears because the scars still bleed on occasion. I hope that things will start to change from this point on. With that said........
Sending love, strength, voices and hope from my heart to yours....Much Love,Dani
