Extreme Measures

Having just finished watching a programme on the effects of austerity on some of the most vulnerable people in my country I have come to a new understanding of why people resort to extreme measures to counter injustice.

While corporate tax evaders, banks and corrupt politicians elude justice, the penalties and sanctions imposed for minor infractions of the benefits system – being late for an appointment! – hit to the stomachs of children, leave households without electricity or gas and force the sale of personal possessions to survive. Decisions on appeal drag on for months while poverty is compounded with mounting debt at the hands of franchises lending at exorbitant interest rates.

The divide is growing. It does not surprise me in the least that the people of Scotland are supporting in droves a political party that promises to do everything in its power to counter austerity measures imposed by policies this government and previous ones have forced on its citizens while doing nothing to address the real criminals in the crisis that has plagued the UK. A party that represents the only real social party left to offer any effective resistance to the suits that look out for each other.

The haves do what they like while the have-nots have ever less under a regime that would make any dictator proud.

Fuck austerity. I teach children whose lives ARE this programme.

Some will go to Jamaica and Tenerife for their Easter holidays. Some will wonder if they eat. The divide is in my classroom. The evidence of the divide is on my TV, in my newspapers, on blogs I read, in the untruths perpetuated in news and programmes that make criminals of victims while allowing the real criminals to continue on their course of profit at any cost.

I am not a member of any political party at the moment. I am a member of the human race and the day I can’t empathise with my fellow man – most specifically, the children – is the day I will vote for Tories or the now recognised Red Tories, hitherto known as the Labour Party.

If there is anyone who reads this who may ‘fear the onslaught of the SNP’, ‘the tartan terrors’ or whatever other name is being used to denigrate that party, if anyone believes that all who vote for them are only interested in ‘splitting the union’ think again.

The real reason SNP are gaining in popularity is because they are the main party in Scotland to represent what Labour have abandoned.

They actually give a shit which is more than can be said for many in the previous duopoly. They have my vote. Not for being extreme- they’re not extreme enough for me. But right at this moment they are the best option the whole of the UK has to redress the balance by at least offering some resistance to what is currently a crime being allowed to run rampage.

Austerity is a crime against children and families. And I will not stand for it.

Extreme doesn’t begin to describe what I feel after watching this programme.

Yes, I understand better why people take drastic actions to counter injustice.

Mine will be within the letter of the law. But some laws need changing. Soon. Very, very soon.

The Circle

I have been reading a number of posts on abuse and bullying. There has been some coverage on TV about the same. The impact of child abuse or bullying on the child and the later adult may never be fully understood. One such post I read had a huge impact on me. The author speaks of her own experiences as a survivor. http://nae50.wordpress.com/2013/11/28/might-have-could-have-was-abuse/  And links to a video and song ‘Committing Slow Suicide’ by Scott Stapp from the group Creed. The video is harrowing to watch. It may even have been taken down by now.

The levels of abuse and types suffered by children enrage me. I cannot thole bullying in any form. My reactions are visceral when I read or hear of it. I was bullied by someone as a child. I stopped it. No one else. I took control. But. It left its imprint. I will not and cannot tolerate any sort of control of myself. And view others who seek to exert control as similar to monsters. My experience, however, was as nothing compared to the suffering of others. If people suffer more, they hurt more, it takes longer to heal. And their methods may be quite different and not always effective. The struggles of survivors to heal and find understanding and reasons for the actions of others leave a lifelong mark. And it may break them or make them stronger. Those I have been reading are among some of the strongest people I have ever encountered.

I’m drawn to hurt like moth to flame,

Others’ pain fills me with shame

That angsts I feel, though deep and wounding,

Hold no candle to some depths of hurting.

 

Mind sets, altered in early days,

Fight with nature’s inherent ways.

A struggle then, a lifelong one,

To come to terms with what was done.

 

Comprehension and forgiveness

Demand some reasons, any answers.

Dependence on an earthly crutch

May transfer or hide so much.

 

Seeking some oblivion

From hurts performed by some or one.

That child of then exists right now,

Trapped in time, until somehow

 

Someone, you, maybe another

Comforts, absolves, helps uncover

What was hidden or openly done,

Unobserved or viewed by some.

 

Abuse of child in any form

Is not so rare but is not the norm.

Many kinds or types there be

Killing, suffocating, we

 

Who know the hurt a bully causes,

Inflicting pain, causing losses

Of memories of childhood pleasure,

A time when all should build as treasure.

 

But stolen by the hands of one,

Abandoned then to struggle on

In adult life with child inside

Who seeks still love, approval, pride

 

In being who they ought to be

Not discredited and forced to flee

From inner mind where sanctuary

Sublimates or sets them free.

 

Acknowledgement of all who hurt

From childhood trauma. Not your fault!

Beating, words or actions done

By other must be owned by one

 

Who perpetrated such a crime,

Robbed innocence, God’s divine

Gift to child and all the world

To view with wonder when beheld.

 

Those who steal such gift away

Will answer, surely, come the day

When asked, ‘How did you fill your life?’

To answer, ‘I killed a child, as if with knife,

 

By stabbing at the hearts of pure.’

No one escapes! But some endure

An endless query. Why me? Why then?

To ask those words again, again.

 

No answers here, I cannot claim,

But trust that love always reclaims

The heart of child for loving much

Is what they do so well, with such

 

Belief in trust. May, then,

Trust and love, regrow again.

And pain depart or recognise

That no guilt attaches in your eyes.