The seventh grade quartet grouping themselves into a kind of punk slurry at the back of the school bus, bullying (bad) the sweet old lady bus monitor(bad), filming themselves (bad), posting on Facebook (bad), really high quality video (good), of their truly monstrous behavior towards a woman who had nowhere to go and couldn't fight back without making the situation worse; a true victim, in other words. Watching it sure makes people uncomfortable, doesn't it?
This was my life at the bottom of the pecking order from fourth grade when my family moved from a big city to a small shithole town, until ninth grade, as I entered a much larger high school and my dad began slowly dying.
I'm now a grown woman, a grandmother, much like Karen, in fact, and watching this video put me right back into that godforsaken school (of course it had to be a catholic school), where the foul beasts I had to ride the bus with every single school day did almost exactly the same thing to me as I saw those brats doing to Karen, with somewhat fewer f-bombs, but more personal references to how disgusting I was, how ugly I was, how nasty my 'cooties' were, more physical poking, and much, much more along those lines. Every single school day, incessantly and unceasingly. Four times a day. Morning and afternoon, and during the day to and from a different school building for band class.
The one time I took it upon myself to try to get away from the torture, I quit band class, and there was one blessed week when I didn't have to ride one particular bus, with those particular beasts, so the torment, while not ceasing completely, lessened a little bit, by two bus rides. Blessed, that is, until my parents found out. When the shock of my temerity wore off, my dad slapped me around and made me go back, because music class was 'good for me'.
I learned so many things from these years of relentless bullying: I learned that any reaction, or no reaction at all to the beasts' cruelty was going to bring on more viciousness; I learned early on that my parents' advice to 'ignore it' was not helpful; I learned that teachers and parents were either helpless, clueless, and or complicit in the torment; I learned that the ingenuity and chutzpah of cruelty is practically limitless; I learned that I was deserving of everything that was happening to me(I must have been, they did it right in front of the nuns and teachers, and they never stopped it); I learned that there were always others who were willing to join the pack of beasts and help deliver the cruelty, so I really couldn't trust anyone; I learned that there were those on the sidelines who could be utterly self-delusional about their willingness and eagerness to be drawn into the pack and join the tormenting, yet later on refuse to admit to even being a part of it. There is an attractiveness of the power over others that appeals to people, regardless of gender, and they gorge on it. Yet when they are shown by society that it is an unpopular or shameful behavior, they deny having engaged in it, for it is ugly, and no one wants to be 'that person', especially in the mirror.
The only possible fix is to first, acknowledge the activity; second, remove the beasts from their ability to build a pack, take them off the bus, make their parents find another way to get them to school and segregate them when they get there. But first, Dads, you are going to have to work a little harder at parenting. Nut up and admit it. Your little punkass Juniors are a quartet of little shits.
Now take their shitty little asses over to Mrs. Klein's house (that's right, MRS. KLEIN is her proper honorific to shitty little punks like your loser asshole sons) and shove them up to the door, make them do the right thing and APOLOGIZE!! TO HER!! IN PERSON!! DIRECTLY TO HER FACE!! Yeah you probably couldn't do it, either, but it would be the right thing to do. Next. Take away the gear. Stop rewarding the behavior. Another thing so simple to do, but that might also be effective. Then get them away from each other and their home situation. I'm not a fan of military-type camps, but if I were you, I'd make an exception in your kids' cases. They seem tailor-made for the situation. You've probably got brochures coming in the mail right now. If not, you should definitely look into it.
I'm really glad she's getting the things I never got; the apologies (such as they have been so far), the very public acknowledgement of the horror of bullying, but especially the visual proof of it. The stupidest thing they did, the thing they were the proudest of, (wtf could they have been thinking, by the way?) turned out to be the smartest. Backfire!
It's a shame she's had to go through it, but it's changed her life, and I hope for her sake she takes some of the money, goes on a nice trip like Southwest is offering her, uses the rest of it to make herself comfortable and set up her grandbabies, but NOT give away to some bullshit church, but mostly I hope she doesn't go back on that effing bus. Make them find someone else, and pay them more than the pittance they probably paid her.