Greed has no idea!

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Willing to destroy the world!!

Who’s broken the golden eggs??

Do you support Bullying? Do you support taking over Canada and Greenland?

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Is bullying now the new diplomacy?

Should we bully our neighbours?

Is extortion OK?

Should we kick a friend when he’s down?

Is it all about robbing our friends?

https://twitter.com/i/status/1900324947966206326

Immorality or Ignorance??

Posted on by Opher

It seems that 47.8 per cent of Americans approve of Mr Trump releasing fascist murderers who storm government buildings and misogynistic rapists who traffic sex workers, the destruction of national parks, giving trillions to billionaires, the sacking of scientists, removal of all environmental monitoring and pollution safeguards, the avoidance of democratic process by using executive orders and the reward for Russia in its invasion of Ukraine, bombing of hospitals and schools, kidnapping of children and torture and slaughter of civilians. They prefer conspiracy theories and lies rather than science and truth. They like tariffs on friends, trade wars and betrayals. They prefer oil and outdated polluting industries to 21st century renewables (losing sight of the future and heading for the past). They are OK with dumping allies, bullying friends and supporting communist dictators.

I don’t know about Make America Great Again – it’s more like Make Trump Insanely Rich and make America incredibly Selfish and Greedy.

America seems to be turning into an untrustworthy totalitarian regime without any moral scruples. Money talks. People are there to exploit. Everything is propaganda, lies and fake news. The rich get richer and the poor go to the wall.

Morality?? There isn’t any! They are OK with a criminal rapist as a President; a man who routinely lies and sides with despotic enemies like Putin and Yung Un.

Ignorance?? It abounds. Defund schools, control the media, shut down science and no longer monitor anything. What they don’t know can be lied about. If it means a few billion more into the Trump and Musk coffers who cares about the cost?

What does America now stand for?

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There at least used to be a veneer of values:

Justice

Freedom

Democracy

Rights

Morality

It might have been a thin veneer but it stood for something.

That has all been washed away in the MAGA tsunami.

A new set of values is being put into place:

Greed

Power

Control

Selfishness

There is nothing respected. The bully is in town!

The Bullying of Simon – A passion for Education – The story of a Headteacher

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We are the products of our genetics and experience.

Sometimes a negative experience can help shape us too! One incident from when I was a young boy (thirteen/fourteen-years-old,) still haunts me today. Bullying and violence are things I detest and, when I became a teacher I set about dealing with it.

Excerpt – A passion for Education – The story of a Headteacher

Chapter 8 – Relationships

For me the philosophy I applied during my tenure as a Headteacher came right out of my experience as a student. There were lessons to be learnt from how I was treated and taught as a child and youth and the things I had witnessed.

Simon was in my class at school. He lived in a council house on the estate but Simon put on airs and graces. He and his family had pretensions.

Simon, who in my memory was the spitting image of  Rimmer in Red Dwarf, always came to school immaculately groomed, his crinkly fair hair brylcreamed into place. He had a supercilious attitude that got up people’s nose. He adopted a sophisticated voice that sounded a bit put on.

Simon, like Rimmer, annoyed people and became the focus of bullying.

Every class has a pecking order. Boys vie for position by being hard, showing off, cracking jokes, developing attitude, being athletic, being violent, being big and tough. It is very primitive.

Simon was considered soft, puny, annoying and a pretentious pain in the arse. He had few, if any, redeeming faults.

Simon was rooted to the bottom of the pecking order.

This was good news for all those swimming in the benthos of the Form’s lower levels. The heat was off them. They could keep their heads down and let Simon take the brunt.

Simon was laughed at, pushed around and abused. He was the butt of nasty quips and put-downs. It seemed as if no-one in authority cared a jot about this. Boys will be boys. Fighting was normal. Simon got picked on; Simon got in fights – so what?

One day word got round that one of the hardos in the year was going to have a fight with Simon and flatten him. This was all going to kick off after school on the top playing field.

It was all very electrifying. The whole school was in a state of extreme excitement. There was a touch of mass hysteria.

The only person who amazingly had got no inkling of what was planned was Simon. He remained oblivious. To this day I cannot conceive how he could have remained so unaware of what was kicking off. It seemed to be the only topic of conversation around the school. Simon must have gone through the day in a complete bubble.

Simon always walked home through the back entrance, on a path past the adjoining junior school on the right with our school playing fields on the left.

When the bell went the whole school rushed out to gather on the top field to wait for the main event. There were literally hundreds of us.

Simon rambled off home in a dream.

There was a short cut-through to the field and it was only then that Simon must have got a sense that something was up. He must have heard the crowd gathered on the other side of the cut-through and somehow realised it was to do with him. He turned round and tried to dodge back into school to avoid them.

Unfortunately for Simon this eventuality had been foreseen and arrangements made. The path was blocked by four sneering sidekicks and Simon was pushed and herded down the cut-through out into the open field the other side.

A great roar went up when he appeared and everyone surged round like a pack of excited dogs.

Soon there was a circle in the centre of which was the hard kid and Simon. Simon tried to bolt through the crowd and escape but they pushed him back. There were far too many people for that. They were too densely packed.

There was a great roar of excitement, with chanting and jeers.

The struggle seemed to go right out of Simon as if, realising there was no possible escape; he resigned himself to his fate. He turned round to face the other lad and stood there limply with his hands down by his side.

The other lad was grinning at him with his fists up.

‘Come on then you faggot,’ he gestured, playing to the crowd.

He stepped forward and punched Simon in the face.

A great roar went up. They must have heard it in the school.

Simon stood there and looked back dolefully so the lad hit him again. Blood trickled from Simon’s nose but he just stood there.

The lad goaded him and pushed him but got no response.

Someone shoved Simon forward into the boy. They wanted action. The crowd were shouting at Simon to fight back.

The lad hit Simon hard but still there was no response. He shoved him and hit him again.

Simon just stood there defencelessly and took it. He stared straight at the kid with his arms dangling and did nothing.

This was not quite the fight we had been expecting and it certainly wasn’t what the lad wanted. He’d wanted to provoke a fight, knock a flailing Simon around a bit, floor him and walk off a hero.

This was not quite going to plan.

Simon had blood dipping from his nose and mouth and still just stood there. It was evident that there was no white knight from the school who was going to charge to his rescue. There was no help to be had.

The crowd had quietened down and become a bit apprehensive.

The kid sensed his moment of glory was passing and decided to get it over with quickly.

He stepped forward and started whacking Simon in the face as hard as he could with a flurry of blows. He wanted Simon to go down so that he could walk away the victor and still retain a little of that glory.

However this didn’t work out either.

Simon refused to go down. The punches smacked into his face and he reeled and jerked but remained standing defiantly facing the lad and took those blows.

The crowd had changed. This wasn’t the exciting spectacle they’d been expecting. It was nasty. It was getting revolting and everyone wanted it to stop.

Some called out for Simon to fight back. Some called out for the lad to stop. Some instructed Simon to go down.

The lad desperately tried to knock Simon down. He threw everything at him. He was getting frantic now as he could sense the sympathy of the crowd had turned. He had no exit strategy.

Simon’s face was rapidly becoming a swollen, bloody, bruised mess and still the punches thudded in and still Simon neither fought back nor went down.

There was something really sickening about it by now. It was making everyone ashamed to be there witnessing it.

It is incredible how quickly the mood of a crowd can change. The lad felt it. There was no glory to be had here. It made him feel cheated and angry.

He tried a couple more shots and then stood back, a little confused, raising his fists and declaring himself the winner while Simon stood there swaying with his swollen wrecked face streaming with blood, tears and snot.

That’s all I remember except to this day I am utterly ashamed that I got caught up in it and went along, all excited like everyone else, to see Simon get beat up. Not one of us told a teacher. Not one of us warned Simon. Not one of us tried to stop it.

That’s human beings for you.

We can be so cruel and heartless.

A passion for Education – The story of a Headteacher eBook : Goodwin BSc (Hons) NPQH, Christopher: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

Bullying – A passion for Education – The story of a Headteacher

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Chapter 26 – Dealing with bullying

As a child I rapidly gravitated towards the back of the classroom where I decided I might attract less attention.

During one maths lesson I discovered I had made an error when doing a sum. I had taken to doing things in pencil so that I could correct mistakes. Unfortunately I had forgotten my rubber. I knew the boy behind had a rubber and turned round to borrow it. Silently I picked it up and mouthed ‘can I borrow this?’ holding it up.

He nodded.

I turned back to address the mistake on my book when a wooden blackboard rubber hit me right between the eyes and knocked me flying out of my seat.

Mr W had seen me turn round and flung the wooden blackboard rubber at me. His years of rugby must have given him unerring aim. He got me dead centre in the middle of the forehead.

I was unconscious for ten minutes while he continued with the lesson. Nobody was allowed near me.

When I came round I was obviously concussed. I did not know where I was or what I was doing. My best mate had to guide me round the school for the rest of the day. I was in a complete haze.

A huge lump had shot up on my forehead. It was so large I could actually see it.

When I got home my Mum was appalled but my Dad just said I must have deserved it.

Nothing happened. They never even went in to complain.

Within any classroom there is a pecking order. Boys compete with each other to be top dog. It is biological. The top dog produces different pheromones that make them more attractive to females.

The hierarchy is established through aggression, humour, physical prowess, looks, fashion and verbal dexterity. The relationships are constantly reinforced. Those of similar status vie with each other for position and those at the bottom are the butt of everyone’s put-downs. That is the game.

It can manifest itself in schools as bad behaviour, attention seeking and showing off in the classroom. This is often hard to deal with. Punishments are water off a duck’s back and often seen as a badge of honour. It is amazing how an attitude can change when you take them out of the classroom, deprive them of an audience, and deal with them as an individual.

The other manifestation is bullying. This can take the form of verbal, physical or internet bullying.

Bullying occurs everywhere. There is no institution without it. It has to be dealt with.

The first way is to provide good mechanisms for prevention and reporting:

  • A high profile ‘Bully Box’ for anonymous complaints that is        regularly emptied and all inputs processed fully
  • Explaining clearly what constitutes bullying and what action        will be taken
  • Working throughout the school to raise sensibilities, promote     empathy and the need to respect all people
  • Celebrating difference and promoting responsible behaviour
  • Having poster campaigns and assemblies
  • Having a zero tolerance of all negative attitudes towards            minority groups
  • Using ‘Student Voice’ to set a tone
  • Opening avenues of communication involving parents,    students, all teaching and non-teaching staff, form tutors and             heads of year
  • Having clear well publicised procedures for reporting     bullying (putting letters in the box, telling friends, parents,             tutors, teachers, head of year, deputy or Head
  • Instilling the facts in all staff, students, and parents that it is         serious and even lesser examples need talking seriously and     dealing with. Ensuring they give it priority over everything           else
  • Dealing with small examples so that they do not grow into          bigger problems
  • Processing all bullying incidents through restorative practice.      Gathering all the people involved together. Talking the whole          thing through. Agreeing culpability and degree of culpability        and getting all involved to agree the punishment for their       actions
  • Checking with students through anonymous surveys.
  • Being constantly vigilant

No school completely eradicates bullying but I am proud that my school had extremely low levels. Students reported feeling comfortable and said that the school was friendly and supported those students who were geekie, different or odd. Those individuals felt secure. Racism, homophobia, sexism and negative attitudes towards other minorities were at an all time low.

That is quite an achievement and one of my greatest.

A previous Head Mike Day told me a heart-warming story. During the eighties he worked hard to counteract the high level of violence, endemic bullying and the elitist system that produced these things.

He did away with streaming and set up mechanisms to deal with all the problems.

He had been there a year and transformed the school. An anonymous note was pushed under his door thanking him for what he had done. The lad wrote that for the first time in his life he felt safe walking around the school.

Raab – Naw!! Who’d have thought it? A Tory arrogantly bullying his staff? I’ll just ask Priti if it’s ever happened before.

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Must be fake news, mustn’t it? Tories aren’t arrogant bullies are they?

Chris Riddell – Bullying is sanctioned!!

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All part of Tory ideology. Superiority and arrogance are built in. It is OK to shout and swear at the people working for you. They are worthless.

Anecdote – Rebena’s little ploy – a true story about bullying and embezzlement

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Rebena’s little ploy

Rebena was not a nice lady. In fact I’m not sure that Rebena was a lady at all. She looked like an extra from Prisoner – Cell Block H and I’m sure she would never have made the Olympics, at least not in the female category. She probably had more testosterone that the rest of the boys in school.

Rebena must only have been fourteen but she looked like a grizzly bear with short brown hair. She ran a little gang of girls who, despite lacking the necessary musculature, all aspired to be like her. They had the swagger down and weren’t short of attitude.

For my first weeks in school it seemed like a game. Rebena’s ‘girls’ would chase us around all over the school. Every break-time was a game of chase. I enjoyed it.

Then it ceased to be a game. A bunch of them cornered me and frogmarched me off for a private conference with Rebena. There were a lot of arm twisting and tight grips with some pinching and punches. It was apparent that the young ladies had not found the enterprise as much fun as me. To them it was business. They did not like being given the run-around. It had certainly ceased to be quite so much fun for me.

They escorted me to Rebena’s ‘office’. She held court behind the bike sheds where it was nice and quiet.

Rebena had quite a persuasive way with her. She was very quiet and softly spoken, with a husky voice well beyond her years.

Rebena had a comb. It was quite an unnecessary implement for any practical use. Her hair was so short it hardly needed combing. It was one of those girls combs; an aluminium job with a handle. Rebena had modified it by sharpening that handle to a sharp point.

The Hench-ladies delivered me and two took the job of holding me still by forcing my arms behind my back and jamming me back against the wall. Rebena regarded me with a cool stare. She pushed my head up against the wall and put the point of her comb under my chine. I was soon standing on tip-toes as she raised the comb up to dig into my flesh.

When she had got me pinned, much to the amusement of the girls all gathered round, she began to make me that offer that was hard to refuse.

It seemed that Rebena had my best interests at heart. She knew that some of the older boys could turn nasty. She knew that some of my classmates could be trying. She had the answer to all my problems.

I tried to explain to Rebena that I really didn’t have any problems in school with anyone. That was hard to do with a sharp point jabbing into your throat. Rebena assured me that I did have problems. I was definitely in need of protection… I didn’t need telling twice. I could not only see the point but I could feel it too.

Rebena’s solution was quite simple. All I had to do was to make a reasonable contribution. Every morning I would pass half my dinner money to one of her girls. I could report anyone who was giving me a hard time and my problems would all melt away.

It certainly seemed a reasonable offer to me. I was getting fed up with arms being twisted and having pointed objects poked into my flesh. I readily agreed to this very sensible request.

I was expecting an instant release. That was not quite what happened. The arms were twisted a bit more and the comb raised a half inch.

Then Rebena explained very slowly just what would happen should I miss a payment. I was entering into a contract. If I failed to keep my side of the bargain there would be repercussions. There would be no nice, kindly interviews like this. As I was not finding this an either nice or kind interview I think I was beginning to catch on – if I did not give Rebena half my dinner money then she would beat the shit out of me.

There did not seem a lot of options. For the next couple of weeks I paid up and went hungry. I was one of many. Rebena was raking it in.

Fortunately this came to an end. I still do not know what happened but the last I saw of Rebena she was in the back of a police car being driven out of school. She never came back. I assumed that Rebena’s nefarious activities were not restricted to school playgrounds.

If you enjoy my poems or anecdotes why not purchase a paperback of anecdotes for £7.25 or a kindle version for free.

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Rhyme and Reason – just £3.98 for the paperback or free on Kindle

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Anecdote – Terry and the public caning – bullying in public – backfiring!

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AppleMark

Terry and the public caning

If caning made me sullen, disdainful and confrontational that was nothing to what it did to some of my fellow students. To a number of them it became a badge of honour. It gave them status and power.

Their disdain for being caned took all the school’s power away. These miscreants learnt to cope with the pain and their insolence merely undermined the authority of the teachers. Their attitude was ‘Is that the best you can do?’

They were immune. There was nothing the school could do.

This was exemplified by Terry. He was the class hardnut. He’d been caned so much that I was sure that his arse had become leather. He also had a pain threshold that was extraordinary.

I can’t remember what terrible crime Terry had carried out. I know he was capable of just about anything. He was a big bully and a thug at times. He was confrontational and he’d once pushed our English teacher through the glass of a bookcase cabinet. Looking back it is hard to believe that he wasn’t expelled. But they had decided to make a public example of him. We were in Year 10. Regardless of anything else it was a bit late. He was far too entrenched to change.

A full school special assembly was called. Trevor, who must have known what was going on, was sitting with the rest of us on the floor in the big hall. When we were all settled, Terry was called up.

I think that the whole idea was to create a public spectacle that would show any miscreants what happened if you stepped out of line.

It failed miserably in all respects.

Right from the start it was clear that the venture was a failure.

Instead of looking frightened and apprehensive Terry looked as if he was going up for a prize. He was centre stage and he loved it. He stood up slowly grinning round at everyone and, with hands in pockets, slouched up the central aisle towards the stage, a knowing smile on his face.

All eyes were on him. They knew how much this was going to hurt. They had no doubt as to the viciousness of what was about to happen. The school wanted to break Terry. They were going to do their utmost.

Terry was equally adamant. This was his big chance. He knew the procedure and he was determined to milk it.

The gym teacher, the biggest bully on the staff, had been deployed to apply the punishment. He stood to one side of the stage.

Terry looked round at the hushed hall. All eyes were fixed on him. I can still see his smiling face. This wasn’t a brave mask. He seemed to be enjoying it.

I cannot remember a word being spoken though I’m sure we were lectured on Terry’s crimes and what happened to people who stepped out of line.

Terry was motioned to the table on the stage. He was calm and compliant. He bent over, gripped the edges of the table and laid his head down looking out at us.

Then he winked at us and grinned widely.

The gym teacher actually bounded across and jumped into the air to bring that cane down with all the force he could muster.

I watched Terry intently. There was no discernible tightening of his grip on that table, his eyes did not blink, and the smile never left his mouth or eyes. It was an act that was almost beyond belief. He took that huge blow without flinching.

I knew the unbelievable pain that had to be shrieking from his buttocks. I could imagine the welt it produced and the blood trickling down his legs. Yet Terry did not show the slightest indication of that excruciating pain. It was more than impressive.

When all six blows had been delivered, Terry rose majestically, looked the Head straight in the eyes, turned and grinned insolently at the Gym teacher who looked far more agitated by the experience than Terry did, and then strolled back down from the stage.

Terry swaggered back down the aisle like a hero with the whole school fixed on him. He returned to his place and looked around, as if taking a bow, and then sat down on the hard floor as if nothing had happened.