Nov. 18th, 2009

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Know what I don't like? Stumbling over crap in my psyche that I had forgotten about or thought I was completely over.
Tonight's super-special issue is the one where adults refer to anyone under the age of 18 as "a little shit". Children and adolescents are not excreta. They are not crotch-droppings or any of the other delightful epithets the virulently misanthropic regularly employ in their description of large swathes of the human race, and a stage that we must all pass through.
I'll concede you spawn (I quite enjoy referring to the Tiny Tyrant as "my spawn"). I'll even allow you that sometimes children and teens behave mighty shittily, pressing all your buttons for no very good reason, or even no reason at all. But that behaviour is not the only thing that defines that person. They are not, in and of themselves, shit.

My stepfather referred to me as "a little shit" and "a (little) bitch" in conversations with other adults. Not all the time, and not knowingly whilst in the same room. But enough. Enough times and places, and in a loud, entitled enough voice, that at ten and twelve and thirteen I got to hear these words applied to me by someone who I lived with, who was meant to be one of the adults looking out for me, that I was supposed to look up to. He told other adults around us that this is what he thought of me.

So before you go applying that phrase to that child, I want to ask you: How much like a piece of human waste do you think they really are? And aren't you glad nobody ever flushed you down the toilet, and you never got to hear the suggestion that your entire being was worthless and useless and associated with all things filthy, disgusting and wrong? I know I could've done without it.


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The Evening Star

July 2011

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