One young boy’s response to bullies: scribal self-expression that is a form of dignified self-care that can yield other positive results… as we can see in Alfie’s case.
We have a choice in how to react when we are bullied. Well this wise young boy after being mocked for having ginger hair and told through messages to go and kill himself did not stoop to the bullies’ level, rather he chose to be dignified; He took pen to paper and wrote his feelings do…wn! If that isn’t self-care, I don’t know what is!
Not only was it therapeutic for him (I believe)! He actually expresses his sense of self worth at the end and his last words were unknown to be prophetic because now he and his poem are standing out in the media around the world. Talk about a turnaround! I love it! Love it 😍 love 💖 it!
Bullying ain’t nice
It ain’t cool
Just because I am ginger
You’re so so cruel
Are you really like this?
Have you not got anything better to do?
Or are you gonna treat me like gum on the bottom of your shoe
You’re an idiot you have made me cry
But that’s not the case
Not even my home is my safe place
I see the messages and feel like crap
Its like I’m stuck in some sort of trap
So I’m not ok
But I will say I’m fine
I make people happy and people fake their smiles
I might be faking mine
I’ve got love and support
That’s all I need
Just please own up
Please please please
Don’t be like this
Don’t be mean
Can’t say it to my face
So you sit behind a screen
But I’m gonna carry on with life
Do what I wanna do
Don’t interrupt me anymore I’m done with you
So I’m not gonna sit there, cry and freak out
But without a doubt
I’m not gonna blend in
WHEN I WAS BORN TO STAND OUT
Click on the link here for Alfie’s full story entitled “Ginger haired boy writes poem to bullies who told him he should die”:
After watching CEO and inspirational speaker and best selling author Lisa Nichol’s inspiring video (check it out on the Gold cast Facebook page or You Tube) of a life transformed after suffering domestic abuse by her fiancé, I felt inspired to engage in some scribal indulgence telling a story of redemption but from a view point that considers the abuser’s mindset and triggers, not as a means of justification but shedding some light on some of the “hidden demons” in play in such situations.
The Caged Bird’s Escape:
Desired with his enticing eyes, colourful words and decorated with roses and alluring scents she felt on top, the executive of his heart, the CEO of his life.
In one night her dreams had come true; from reams of beauties she was chosen by one of the Hedge-Fund crew.
To him she was just meat, one of many slaughtered for devouring, bought in a club in one of many spending sprees he called sport.
A business man, bonus acquiring sharp talker in the square mile by day and by night a gigolo, a Casanova in clubs he called “cattle markets” bidding with his eyes for the best cow.. he laughs “that’s the woman- A COW!”
Flashes of his mother often appeared before his eyes, waving to him, a 6 year old “mummy is going to the shop, I will return” She never did.. “liars all of them”!
Sly as a fox, an expert in his game, he waited until the image of her was locked in him, he, a mirror that defined her significance. Now he had god-like relevance, the Fowler’s cage was her home.
One day was as living in a romantic play pen; his voice soft and soothing and to love songs they were waltzing.
Another was life in a torture chamber under a man-child’s bitter verbal whip and slaps with hate-filled vomit until she suffocated in fear and self hate. Every morning she braced herself for what was amiss, the ready for work psycho’s bullets of abuse and punches in her abdomen with a goodbye kiss.
A cycle of confused voices reeled in the cage “I love you”, “I love you not” as the battered bird wailed without a sound. In his “you are to blame! blame! blame! she felt grief and shame! shame! shame!
A rude awakening was the uncontrollable pain in her abdomen. The day of reckoning had come for from the abyss of farce living she heard the voices of many women thundering “call the ambulance or die!” The freedom fighter from deep within joined in, beckoning.
“How are you today, my dear?”
Startled, she opened her eyes and saw a face beaming at her “I am Claire”
“Yes, I am your nurse, you called the ambulance, they broke in ‘cause you fainted after the call. Julie, your internal wounds and bleeding were serious. Thank God you came on time! You will be fine”
Julie shut her eyes. Smiling the risen woman within spoke:
“Yes thank God!
To a “A just in time” God: thank you!
I was that woman destined for a bright future based on scripture, even the prophetic word, then I lost my way and met a trickster and by him I became nothing but a caged bird in a home any woman would dread.
I was able to walk away, escape from the snare of the Fowler, but for him in compassion I daily kneel to pray and for caged birds unlike me who for reasons choose to stay, I shall sing a song of deliverance, that one day sunshine shall overtake the dark clouds of their circumstance.
”Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers: the snare is broken, and we are escaped.
Our help is in the name of the LORD, who made heaven and earth.”
Song – My Soul Escaped by Windsor Dutton You Tube https://youtu.be/5TNUtN9a3vo
©11/11/2017 Deborah E Nyamekye
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Whoever we might be, we all desire respect & dignity. Here is a street dweller’s self appraisal that is food for thought:
They call me “Homeless”
but don’t care to ask my name.
I prefer “Street Dweller”
’cause the streets are my home.
They call me purposeless
but life on the streets spell
“Survival of the fittest” that
makes me far from useless.
They call me hopeless
but I have hope as I am
From place to place I trek,
I know bins full of food,
and outside which shop to beg.
Bus drivers know me,
turn a blind eye when I hop
on for free rides with my dog Fred.
They call me senseless
but I put to use the common
sense given by the Most High
when I look to the sky and
can tell if it shall rain or shine.
Then I know where to lay
my head; in someone’s shed, a
fold up box, open air?
anywhere as long as it
is miles away from a fox!
I am a street dweller.
Yes, among life’s fittest.
A survivor, that’s who I am.
©DEN-The Witness – 24/09/2016
Note: Upon request, I have given permission for this poem to be incorporated in a play with other poems at a College in Lansing, Michigan USA in November 2019 to coincide with Thanksgiving. The play is about the life of a group of homeless people and entitled “I have a name”.
Reflection & Encouragement:
One who lives in a home, has an address to go to can easily think “why would one want to live on the streets! Whatever name one chooses to be called “Homeless” or “Street Dweller” does not change the fact that they are in an undesirable status in life!”
Such a thought is not necessarily malicious, most people prefer a roof over their heads, a place to call home. However as we can see from this poem, the street dweller is expressing how they perceive their situation or circumstance which is contrary to how people, to his or her knowledge perceive it.
The street dweller has accepted their status as their reality. The circumstance or situation which resulted in them being as such is neither here nor there, they are proud to be living on the streets and making good of their life on the streets. They have learnt to survive and have dignity and self respect. Their descriptive prose is also saying loud and clear: this is who I am, take it or leave it! They actually compel one to respect them.
A number of reflections and lessons can be derived from this poem as well as words of counsel and encouragement or exhortation, here are some:
If people superficially put you in a box, assume things about you or stereotype you because of how society and others perceive or treat “people like you” i.e your economic, social status and race or cultural background, it is actually only you and you alone who can dismantle those superficial or stereotypical assumptions about who they think you are or how they expect you to behave.
Not that you have to make a conscious effort to change their minds or attitudes about you; Your manner of self-perception, self-relation, self-definition and self-respect in relation to who you are and your circumstance will greatly influence how people treat and perceive you.
Despite being born as a member of a family you are a unique being.Unique also within one human race and within diverse racial or ethnic groups, social and economic group of the human race. There is only one you!
However if you find that despite being unique and basically your true self within and still feel unaccepted by some because of your social and economic status, nationality, race or cultural background there is nothing you can do about it. Everyone is entitled to their opinions. However you have to make sure that you stay true to who you are as a person and not be driven to say things or act in ways that agree with any false labels about who you are or what people think you are supposed to be.
People may not understand your circumstances or even know all the background experiences and elements which have made you who you currently are, but learning to connect with your true self within, loving and respecting who you are without comparison to anyone else will constantly shatter any adverse effects that negative words and actions may otherwise have on you.
There is a scripture in the bible “Love your neighbour as yourself”.
Self love and respect results in expressions of love and respect towards others also because you inevitably empathise, have compassion for or appreciate other human beings more. As much as you cultivate positive self worth so too you see the bigger picture; the world is full of people who are worthy to be loved and respected as you are. It is therefore impossible for people who have a habit of putting people down or taunting and backbiting to befriend you or be among your close circle of friends.
In the context of the Street Dweller’s message, being a survivor is being an overcomer from having your worth defined by how others perceive you. Whatever your status or circumstance in life, ensure that you can say like the Street Dweller:
“Yes, among life’s fittest.
A survivor, that’s who I am.”
Note: This poem & discourse “Who I’m I? It’s a matter of Perception!
is in my book “Wielding the Sword of the Spirit” a book of interrelating inspirational teachings/devotions & poems chapter by chapter.
-What is Domestic Violence?
-Poem “Domestic Death Trap”
-Lean the 8 Before it’s too late signs.
-Be a Change Agent and Raise Awareness
-Links to Discussion/Testimonial/Awareness Videos
-Web Links; Domestic Violence Charities & helpline telephone ☎️ numbers UK & USA
Domestic violence is the systematic pattern of behaviour on the part of the abuser designed to control his partner.
The abuse can be physical, emotional, psychological, financial or sexual. Anyone forced to alter their behaviour because they are frightened of their partner’s reaction is being abused. It can begin at any stage of the relationship. Domestic violence is rarely a one-off. Incidents generally become more frequent and severe over time.
Domestic violence can happen to anyone, regardless of age, social background, gender, religion, sexuality or ethnicity. Whilst domestic violence happens in all relationships (heterosexual, lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender), statistics show the vast majority of domestic violence incidents are carried out by men and experienced by women.
Domestic violence is a crime. We all have a role to play in bringing domestic violence to an end.
(Above excerpt from: http://www.refuge.org.uk)
POEM: Domestic Death Trap
Slapped once, reassured of his love.
He broke her ribs twice. “I fell down the stairs” she said.
For him she always lied.
Pushed so hard against the door, the wood cracked. He begged for forgiveness.
Who told her of her worth, that she needed to leave to live?
Her true friends tried.
“His unfounded jealousy, blind rage were due to stress” she said.
Her excuses for him, dismayed.
The police found her dead body in a forest, battered and bruised. With no evidence nor history of violence, he was free.
So another victim he tried, while in a grave his wife laid.
(for more poems /discourse about Domestic Violence browse related categories on this website: http://www.thewitnessinstitute.org)
(Above “…the 8 before it is too late” from https://greatist.com/happiness/stop-domestic-violence-organizations)
BE A CHANGE AGENT – RAISE AWARENESS
Domestic violence is the worst thing that can happen to anyone in their home. If not anywhere else, a home is where people are supposed to feel the most secure and unafraid.
Domestic violence strips one of their basic human dignity and worth. Under a great magnitude of oppression, victims can only sink further into the abyss of depression with no way of escape.
Be a voice among others to speak out and campaign against domestic violence!
Many victims live in denial, accept and make excuses while suffering so that they empower the abuser…
If your voice could help the cause, campaign or even be heard by one or more victims, whether they are male or female and cause them to leave their demeaning and violent domestic environment you would have done a great service to humanity.
VIDEO LINKS -DISCUSSIONS/TESTIMONIALS/RAISING AWARENESS
The Red Table Talk led by Jayden Pinkett Smith: Domestic Violence:
WEB LINKS – INFORMATION FOR YOURSELF OR SOMEONE WHO MIGHT NEED IT
Domestic Violence charities:
Refuge Charity: 24-hour National Domestic Violence Freephone Helpline
National Network to End Domestic Violence: https://nnedv.org/
End Violence Against Women Int. : http://www.evawintl.org/
National Domestic Violence Hotline:
Our advocates are available 24/7 at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) in more than 200 languages. All calls are free and confidential.
©️2018The Witness Institute