The viral video of a older white haired bus monitor, (68), clutching her purse that has mottos on it, like Live with Integrity while being bullied to tears by little twerps, moved a Toronto man to start an internet campaign to send her on vacation. His modest goal of 5k has ballooned to donations of over 277k and still growing. She will not need to work again, that will pay her salary for a decade. plus a most excellent vacation.
The fund has gone up 8k in the time it took me to write this piece. www.indiegogo.com/loveforkarenhklein
In the battle of good versus evil, this is a small thing that has been brought to the nation's attention. I'm not surprised if it is forgotten in a weeks time. We don't hold ourselves accountable anymore. The nation can start wars and torture prisoners, without recourse. We allow violence on television at all hours of the day. We laugh at people on reality shows, like Dance Mom, and the Real Housewives series, using foul language and threats and bullying tactics. It is entertainment.
Those children were performing for the camera. It was a reality show published on youtube for a private audience of giggling 12 year olds who have not yet read the Lord of Flies.
In a world connected down to the minute, we have a chance to make accountability go LIVE. We can right wrongs now in a way we weren't able to. No one has to hide in a small town and be bullied ever again.
Our voices will grow and overcome the meanness. Good will survive and thrive in this new post internet world. So help me God it will.
Oh wait. Trust.
wut?
Blog Manifesto
Blog Manifesto
This blog is dedicated, as the title would suggest, to the qualities of being young. We are young writers. We are playful and sensitive, fluid and changing. We are unashamed with our art. We wonder at the world, puzzle over the meanings of things and twirl in delight at images and ideas that float by, grabbing at them as they pass. We are curious and constantly inquiring and prying concepts open and taking assumptions apart. We are on the ground, close to the earth. We have bare feet and wiggle our toes into nature. We carry our blankies still and wrap up cozy and comfy with each other and tell ghost stories and shiver at creepy things. We laugh and we cry and we take a lot of naps, drained from our outings and exertions.
We write as gifts to each other, tying them up in ribbon and leaving them around for each other to find, hiding and waiting for the person to wake up and read. Surprise! We weave our stories together to create a bond. One writes, then the other. then another again. We have a shared reality that we have crafted, bit by piece by patch, by string. We write simple, honest authentic things, with our unique voices. You can tell each one of us from the other, without knowing who wrote what. Our voices are clear and gentle and original. We whisper and our personalities roar! Like children, our feelings are strong, our passion for what we write shakes us. We are moved and sometimes left breathless, by our own words or the words of each other. We cannonball into each others spaces. We fall backward into each others writing, like into a pile of leaves or a soft bed. We gobble and grin and ask for more. (footnote kudos to JC)
Then we go to bed, wake up to a new day and do it all over again!
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