Bungle in the Jungle

On the photos page of this blog there is a picture of Alyne wearing a big hat. This was taken from a day at the Dallas Zoo, where Alyne’s Grandma (who we call “Big Momma”, just like they do in the movie Soul Food) has been a docent for the past 20 years. Big Momma knows all the ins-and-outs of the zoo. She’ll take you through all the secret passages. She knows the places on the exhibits where you can have the best view of the animals. She also knows all the dirty little secrets of the zoo, like when the gorillas have mated, when one zebra kicks another, and when the flamingo babies are feeding. So going to the Dallas Zoo with Big Momma is like having your own elite private tour guide, one with a thick Texas accent that makes great breakfasts, and will yell at you when you stick a fork into her kitchen table, but the table was made of a soft wood and it was only a matter of time until that happened.

Alyne likes the zoo in theory, but she likes the aquarium better (she likes water.) She’s not a huge fan of all that walking around, but she knows that at some point she’s going to be able to get lunch at a place that is not her mother’s kitchen, so she puts up with a couple hours of meandering, and manages to ask about lunch about only once every five minutes.

The Dallas Zoo has a place called the Serengeti Grill, which has a wall of windows that backs right up to the lion exhibit. That’s where Alyne’s gang went for lunch. They scoped out a table along the window wall. As Alyne sat down at the table, a male lion came right up to the window behind her, like he was greeting an old friend (Alyne is a Leo, after all.) He put on a bit of a display for her, pawing the glass and shaking his mane, although her back was turned to him.

Everyone was so excited. “Alyne, turn around! Look! A lion!” Seriously, if the window had not been there, Alyne could have reached out and smacked the lion on the nose. It was a moment that every zoo visitor hopes to have: a meaningful interaction with one of the majestic big cats that doesn’t involve being mauled. Alyne glanced over her shoulder, barely looked at the giant cat, nodded, turned back around, and tended to the important matters at hand: she used sign language to order herself a hamburger.

Call to Action

Yesterday I wrote a post about a special needs child who was bullied by her teacher and the teacher’s aide. The aide was fired, but the teacher was not. I don’t know why not, but if I had to hazard a guess, it probably has plenty to do with the teacher’s union fighting for her. Today, somebody (not me) began an online petition to get this teacher fired. Now, after fully examining the karmic ramifications of this and deciding that I am in the right, I am going to ask you to sign it.

It doesn’t matter than the student was a special needs student, although that takes the situation to another level. What does matter is that bullying was involved, and the bully was the person that is PAID to EDUCATE this student, not to criticize her belly, not call her names, and not impugn the character of her parents. I have friends and family members that are teachers. They’re overworked. They’re underpaid. They can’t watch everything. It’s hard to remain impartial. I sympathize, and that is why the teaching profession is not for everybody. I really feel that the teaching position is not for Christie Wilt (the name of the teacher), because she is a bully.

Is there anyone reading this that hasn’t had their self-esteem shredded at the hands of a bully? I remember my own terrorist, from fourth and fifth grade. Her name was Jane Fisher. She called me names and made fun of my teeth (this was pre-braces.) She ripped the ribbons out of my hair, threatened to punch me in the nose, and poked a hole in my favorite yellow dress with her pencil. Her mother was my math tutor, so Jane also knew what kind of idiot I was. And she told everybody. I cried every day that I had to go to school. Teachers told me to suck it up. We thankfully moved away right before sixth grade.

When adults do not do what they are supposed to do when they see a bullying situation, they are in the wrong and it can adversely affect children for many years to come. Hell, 20+ years later I remember the teacher that told me to ‘suck it up’ just as much as I remember Jane. When adults do not do the right thing, it only validates the bullying behavior and smashes the self-esteem of the one being bullied. The one being bullied either no longer trusts adults; or, in the case of my daughter, the one being bullied takes matters into her own hands, earning her the nickname “Ali”. And when you are an adult that is doing the bullying, you just need to be plain old eradicated. And that’s exactly what needs to happen to Christie Wilt.

Please sign. Please. Spare her next victim.