Upon arriving home yesterday I was so relieved the week was over [we’ve had countless people off sick, one of whom was Ms Hippy which resulted in me being run ragged for four days whilst I found everything needed for the smooth sailing of her lessons] that I just plonked my shattered self in front of the tellybox and channel-hopped, eventually finding a programme to watch.
Unfortunately this was the wrong thing to do. It was an old Sally Jesse Raphael show, from about 2000. I was far too emotionally drained to watch it. And yet I did. And it made me cry and feel physically ill. Not because it was some sickeningly sweet story about how a pet goldfish saved its mistress from death by stereo, but because it was a bunch of fourteen-sixteen year olds being humiliated by the dreadful witch. So they were having sex, arguing with their parents [who took great pride in explaining that they’d whipped them to an inch of their lives and chucked them out of the family home, blatantly ignoring the fact that they shouldn’t be telling their kids to shut up! on [inter-]national tv, and wagging their fingers in their faces without listening to a word they were saying, thus proving that said teenagers behaviour was actually a parental fault], taking drugs, drinking, staying out till all hours. All the usual teenage stuff [for some, not all].
I have lots of sympathy for youngsters who have attitude problems, who have no respect for authority, who feel the need to do these things because if they’re out it means they’re not in being bullied, or worse, by truly awful parents. I have even more sympathy for kids whose parents insist on airing their dirty laundry in public, especially when a lot of the behavioural issues mentioned could easily stem from sexual and emotional abuse.
So where was the psychologist? Where was the person who cared about these kids and wanted to know why they were doing it? Where was the person who would listen to the kid rather then the parent?
Children aren’t born to intentionally act in such a way. I believe that it comes from how they are raised and / or the relationship they have with the adults that surround their early years. Often they just need to be listened to. They’re crying out for attention, for hugs, for someone to just be there. They don’t need to have an audience of otherwise sane adults booing and hissing at them, and nor do they need a supposedly respected talkshow host being so evil towards them, not when the only learned response they have is a defensive in-your-face attitude.
And they certainly don’t need boot camp.
Some things truly amaze me for all the wrong reasons.
And so the cycle continueth …
Sorry, this was a long, fairly irrelevant post. But the show irked me, so much so that I couldn’t switch it off. Pah!
[Before you all deride me for being behind the times, I know that the show finished in 2002. Thank God for that. I found this page on the web. It’s rather funny]
Time to wake The Blokey up so we can do Saturday Things.
please God bless the kids that nobody listens to xxx Elsabeth