I was in
grave danger at that school. Maybe I was in even more danger putting forth the truth on A Piece Full World. There
was, however, no other choice for me.
are like that, are they not? They press from within. They must be spoken. They must be written. Truthful words,
in my case, had to be shared; not because I am some kind of altruistic do-gooder trying to save the "world of workplace
bullied educators", but because they simply had to come out. It was seeing my publicly recorded name--my lied about
name and lied about work--that sent those words from my heart and brain (maybe my lungs) to my fingers on fire. Those
fingers burned. They typed and typed. That was the only way to cool them. The hands and the wrists and the arms
of those typing fingers--attached to a bullied female counselor body with an honest heart--sometimes took breaks and poured
sustaining coffee, but kept on and on and on typing. They took breaks, also, to prepare breakfasts for sixth and fourth grade--now
twelfth and tenth grade--children. They sometimes vigorously swung as my counselor body worked at ridding itself of
hurt by walking. Still though, they burned and they typed.
But unlike the staccato writing arc covering the months of real danger at my former school, words now seep
out of me--at a slow and oozing pace. I have to search for them. They puddle. They create an unhealthy mess at
my feet. Yet, there I stand. Sometimes I just stand in the puddle of them.
Gray words. Anxious words. Sad, oh so very sad words. They're my post-traumatic-workplace-bullying
residue. Heightened alarm. Suspicion. Distrust. Not all the time. But often enough for my reflection.
David Yamada, an attorney experienced in workplace bullying, writes that targets
of workplace bullying and violence may struggle for years with the injustice. Here's the entire piece from David's "Minding
the Workplace." It's worth the read:
What helps me: Sunlight. Music. Acceptance.
What doesn't help me: Worry. Blame. Puddles of negativity. Standing
and staying in those puddles....
What really helps:
little thing's gonna be alright...."