Sunday, 24 February 2008 | 7:28 pm
Like a pack of dogs
In English, we're learning all about identity and belonging. Why is it that as human beings, we strive so hard to belong, even going against what we believe in order fit in?
Yesterday after work I caught the bus home alone from the Pines. A bunch of 12 or so boys got on the bus and I got really nervous. Anyway, halfway back to Box Hill, one of the boys sitting behind me starting touching my hair and spitting. All of his disgusting little friends started laughing. I told him twice to stop and he didn't. I got up and complained the bus driver who yelled at them. When I got off the bus one of the boys in the group looked at me really apologetically. You know what? I don't give a flying f&^ if you feel guilty. Why weren't you telling your friends off when they thought it would be funny to touch my hair and spit on me? It makes no difference if you were the one touching me. Standing by and doing nothing makes you just as culpable.
What makes me really mad is if I were sitting with a friend or better yet, a male, those stupid boys wouldn't have tried to touch me. If they weren't in a group, they wouldn't have dared. I wonder who these people are going to be when they grow up, if they think that touching any part of a female on purpose and without consent is permissable. One can only hope that these boys will mature and realise what cowardly bastards they are.
It may not seem like a big deal. I can always wash my hair. But what about during World War II where so many young men and women were brainwashed into following Hitler. Some would have realised that what they were doing was sick and how many people had to die for them to stand up and say "FUCK YOU HITLER YOU SYPHILIS-RIDDEN PSYCHOMANIAC". There must have been a point where the people were given the choice to stand and fight, but were too afraid and just let the whole situation snowball out of control.
We are such strange, powerful, crazy creatures. It scares me.
Mel
Yesterday after work I caught the bus home alone from the Pines. A bunch of 12 or so boys got on the bus and I got really nervous. Anyway, halfway back to Box Hill, one of the boys sitting behind me starting touching my hair and spitting. All of his disgusting little friends started laughing. I told him twice to stop and he didn't. I got up and complained the bus driver who yelled at them. When I got off the bus one of the boys in the group looked at me really apologetically. You know what? I don't give a flying f&^ if you feel guilty. Why weren't you telling your friends off when they thought it would be funny to touch my hair and spit on me? It makes no difference if you were the one touching me. Standing by and doing nothing makes you just as culpable.
What makes me really mad is if I were sitting with a friend or better yet, a male, those stupid boys wouldn't have tried to touch me. If they weren't in a group, they wouldn't have dared. I wonder who these people are going to be when they grow up, if they think that touching any part of a female on purpose and without consent is permissable. One can only hope that these boys will mature and realise what cowardly bastards they are.
It may not seem like a big deal. I can always wash my hair. But what about during World War II where so many young men and women were brainwashed into following Hitler. Some would have realised that what they were doing was sick and how many people had to die for them to stand up and say "FUCK YOU HITLER YOU SYPHILIS-RIDDEN PSYCHOMANIAC". There must have been a point where the people were given the choice to stand and fight, but were too afraid and just let the whole situation snowball out of control.
We are such strange, powerful, crazy creatures. It scares me.
Mel