Sticks and stones can break my bones, but..........

Joshua huddled in the far corner of the playground, trying to avoid the taunts and shouting from the other kids. It wasn't his fault that his skin was a different color or that when he spoke he sounded different from most of the other kids. As the other kids on the playground played, they did not throw sticks or stones, only verbal insults and accusations and when Benny began shouting at him, Joshua broke into tears. Benny was suppose to be his best friend.

This had been school recess for Joshua for a long time. Each day he would try to hide from the others, but usually to no avail. The recess bell would ring and the kids would file back into school. Just another day. But today, Joshua did not go back into school after recess. When the others were inside, he hopped on his broken down bike, the one with the flat tires, and raced down the street.

While teachers and administrators frantically searched the building to find him, an ambulance, siren screeching, raced by the school, stopping at the intersection. Joshua, in attempting to cross the street and not really paying attention, his mind back on the taunting at the playground, had ridden into the path of a pickup truck, surprising the driver. Joshua lay motionless on the pavement.

Lives changed at recess that day. The taunting and bullying had led Joshua to seek flight from what was suppose to be a safe environment. The distraught pickup truck driver would live with the memory of a horrific accident, never knowing why the young boy had ridden out into the street in front of his truck. Joshua's parents would never know what his life was really like at school and for the other kids, life would go on as usual and the bullies would continue to bully. They had won again.

To some degree, this story plays out each day. It is not always on the school playground. It could be at work, home or even at church.

In aisle 3 at the grocery store, the young father shouted angrily at his son, calling him names and telling him he would grow up to be “nothing but a lazy little punk.“ The truth is that's what would happen. He  probably would grow up just like his father.

The silence of the night was broken by the crashing of glass as a rock missiles its way through the plate glass window. The single mother and her children huddle in the darkness of the closet until it was safe. In the middle of the living room, wrapped around the rock was a note with words threatening that 'the next time it would be worse.'

The act of bullying has no boundaries, no socioeconomic status, no religious beliefs or political parties. At some point many of us may have participated in bullying, just for fun, of course. Or was it out of fear?

When people become frightened or scared, they react in unusual ways. When they do not understand or are ignorant, they look for ways to hide their fears by making fun of others..

Sticks and stone may surely break bones, but names (and words) just might kill you.