There's a good article in today's online edition of the New York Times. Entitled "Internet Gives Teenage Bullies Weapons to Wound From Afar the article gives an overview of online cruelty.
A line from the article: The new weapons in the teenage arsenal of social cruelty include stealing each others' screen names and sending inflammatory messages to friends or crush-objects, forwarding private material to people for whom it was never intended and anonymously posting derogatory comments about fellow students on Web journals called blogs. I've seen multiple examples of exactly this type of juvenile behavior, with one important difference. This behavior has come from adults.
A quote from a middle-school student who deleted all the entries to a blog after multiple complaints from both students and parents about the hurtful nature of some of the comments it contained: "I didn't see why they cared so much," said the girl, who preferred not to be identified. "It's obviously not as serious as it seems if no one's coming up to you and saying it." I look at how some adults comport themselves on the internet, and I realize that this girl's statement is not is not simply the result of the callousness of youth. She's repeating what she's learned from adults.
I am again the victim of someone with too much free time and a taste for the malicious. I am accused of sexual perversions. I am accused of lying about my gender. The coward who makes these accusations does so in secret comments to the diaries of my friends. I am fairly sure who is doing this, but cannot prove it. This puts me at a tactical disadvantage. The person making the accusations has no hesitation about accusing me of unsubstantiated filth. I, in turn, will not accuse someone without absolute proof, and so cannot point my finger at the one who I believe in my heart is guilty. The playing ground is therefore uneven, and the fact that I stand on the higher ground is of little solace, because this internet bully chooses to involve other people in these attacks.
I'm reduced to yelling into the virtual canyon and listening to my words echo back at me while wondering who is listening. I write these words, I throw them out into cyberspace, and I reread the post, wondering who else is reading. You are lurking out there, aren't you? Are you reading this, thinking to yourself "It's obviously not as serious as it she's making it since no one's coming up to her and saying it to her face?" Are you guilty of that which you accused me of ... is this how you get your "jollies"? Does each time I come to this journal crying "Uncle! You win!" represent some small orgasmic event in your life? Have you not yet proved to your own satisfaction your superiority? Have I not been through enough in my life, that you must heap yet more upon me and those I hold dear?
Bullying, while inexcusable at any age, might at least be understandable in a teenager. Youth is impetuous, and prone to do things in a moment to be regretted in the next moment. You, however, are no teenager. You are an adult, and you have a problem. You are sick, and you need help. You need to unplug your computer and find a professional to guide you back to the real world. Graduate from the endless high school you've turned your life into. Stop trying to be as tall as everyone else by cutting them down to your size; match the height of others by growing up instead.
A line from the article: The new weapons in the teenage arsenal of social cruelty include stealing each others' screen names and sending inflammatory messages to friends or crush-objects, forwarding private material to people for whom it was never intended and anonymously posting derogatory comments about fellow students on Web journals called blogs. I've seen multiple examples of exactly this type of juvenile behavior, with one important difference. This behavior has come from adults.
A quote from a middle-school student who deleted all the entries to a blog after multiple complaints from both students and parents about the hurtful nature of some of the comments it contained: "I didn't see why they cared so much," said the girl, who preferred not to be identified. "It's obviously not as serious as it seems if no one's coming up to you and saying it." I look at how some adults comport themselves on the internet, and I realize that this girl's statement is not is not simply the result of the callousness of youth. She's repeating what she's learned from adults.
I am again the victim of someone with too much free time and a taste for the malicious. I am accused of sexual perversions. I am accused of lying about my gender. The coward who makes these accusations does so in secret comments to the diaries of my friends. I am fairly sure who is doing this, but cannot prove it. This puts me at a tactical disadvantage. The person making the accusations has no hesitation about accusing me of unsubstantiated filth. I, in turn, will not accuse someone without absolute proof, and so cannot point my finger at the one who I believe in my heart is guilty. The playing ground is therefore uneven, and the fact that I stand on the higher ground is of little solace, because this internet bully chooses to involve other people in these attacks.
I'm reduced to yelling into the virtual canyon and listening to my words echo back at me while wondering who is listening. I write these words, I throw them out into cyberspace, and I reread the post, wondering who else is reading. You are lurking out there, aren't you? Are you reading this, thinking to yourself "It's obviously not as serious as it she's making it since no one's coming up to her and saying it to her face?" Are you guilty of that which you accused me of ... is this how you get your "jollies"? Does each time I come to this journal crying "Uncle! You win!" represent some small orgasmic event in your life? Have you not yet proved to your own satisfaction your superiority? Have I not been through enough in my life, that you must heap yet more upon me and those I hold dear?
Bullying, while inexcusable at any age, might at least be understandable in a teenager. Youth is impetuous, and prone to do things in a moment to be regretted in the next moment. You, however, are no teenager. You are an adult, and you have a problem. You are sick, and you need help. You need to unplug your computer and find a professional to guide you back to the real world. Graduate from the endless high school you've turned your life into. Stop trying to be as tall as everyone else by cutting them down to your size; match the height of others by growing up instead.