A cinderella story and school shootings

First, we have been fortunate not to have had very many serious incidents at schools in this country.

Still, after watching A Cinderally story , Home Room and Bowling for Colombine, and based on experiences of my own and of friends when we were in school (and later at university), I am now of the opinion that perhaps we should stop asking WHY.

As someone once put it to me: You always have a Derick arround. I apologise if anyone happens to be called Derick, obviously this person knew someone called Derick who was a real piece of work.

We all know them. That one person who has to humiliate you as often as possible in order to make himself feel a little better. That one person who will not let pass a single chance to step on your feelings or to be rude to you. The typical school bully. Sometimes they exist as a group. This is entirely understandable, survival in numbers.

To make these matters worse, those who escape the bad treatment will not assist you in any way: They are too scared of being treated the same way.

This breeds in our kids, and even in our adults, a feeling of being worthless, a feeling of utter helplessness. A person can only be driven so far, at some point he or she WILL snap. How long it takes and exactly how we snap is different for everyone. Some commit suicide, others pull out a gun and kills everyone. Others somehow deal with the pain, grow up to be better people and without fail they go much further in life than the bully.

Even as an adult, when living in a university residence, something happened to me that I will probably never forget. I have to tell you that I have been living in Hostels and Residences since I was seven years old. My parents lived on a farm more than 100km out of town and I could not stay at home.

By the time I went to university I already had 12 years experience of living in a residence. The joke was quite old already and there was nothing new to it. It was a place to stay, and that was that. Besides, I had my studies to focus on and whatever time wasn't spent on that was spent furthering my knowledge of computers and electronics, my chief interests at the time. I did what I had to do to stay fit, but I had never been any good at sports of any kind. I didn't drink either and I was too poor to afford smoking. I just didn't fit in.

Unfortunately others did not understand this. It was the first time they were away from home, the first freedom they really tasted. There was also a points system in these university residences, and the residences also took part in sports against each other. Those of us who did not fit in were often called "sluipers", an Afrikaans word that refers to people who walk really silently (so that no one knows about you).

There was also an award given once a year to the super-sluiper, the person who did the absolute least for the residence, the person who was never seen anywhere. This award was given to me at the end of my first year.

I was given this award on the last house meeting of the year. People were nominated, called out to the front, and then the others voted for their candidate. If only I had the common sense not to attend that meeting!

But I attended every meeting because it was expected of us. It was the right thing to do. I did my telephone duty (first years, or freshmen as they are also called have to answer the phone). I even attended the "Hane Dinee" (A dinner given at the end of the year where those who are leaving is supposed to make a farewel speech, but it is really just an excuse to drink too much) even though I didn't drink and should have stayed away.

But I was at the meeting, and someone had to be labeled that night. Someone else did in fact do less, and did in fact qualify for the award much more than I did, but he had the sense not to attend the meeting. He was in fact nominated, but after it was discovered that he isn't in attendance, someone else just HAD to be picked.

Personally I think the very existence of such an award is a problem. You would think that by the time we reach the age of twenty we will be over these things, but apparently we are not. We are still like little kids who want to stick it to someone.

If only it ended there. After that night my life became hell for about a week. People went out of their way to walk into my room and insult me. No-one cared about what it did to me. Only one person (his name was Gideon) had the decency to be nice to me.

The following year I went to the poor bloke who was nominated that year, another case of a person who didn't deserve it, and tried to tell him that I knew how he felt. I hope he remembers that in case he feels like pulling out a gun and popping some heads some day.

I am told that a certain women's residence has a similar award: the Kennel award, given to the biggest "bitch". They don't even vote about it, some house committee member is tasked with picking this person and it is simply awarded to the person she likes least.

Back to the movies I mentioned above. The one that really sparked this line of thinking was in fact the feel good "Cinderally story". What appeals to us in these stories is that in the end, Cinderally overcomes the problems and the evil stepmother and stepsisters are humiliated. Even in real life I often feel good about what I've accomplised while I look down on those who didn't make it past Assistant Manager at the hardware store in my home town. I should not look down on them, but in the end we all do. In the end we end up doing the same thing back to them.

And so it continues. And we want to know why a kid pulls out a gun and shoots his classmates. It should be obvious.