posted on Mar, 15 2011 @ 05:45 AM
For some people, school days are the best in thier lives. Carefree, unworried by the burden of responsibility, of bread winning, of getting on with
the slow march to the end of thier days, some children go on to cherish thier memories of school, the friends they made, and the achievements they
rack up over the course of thier education, for the rest of thier lives.
For others, school is war. You dont have to go to an inner city school to see terrifying victimisation, violence, theft and harrassment, because
these things can happen anywhere, as long as the school itself has the right mixture of apathetic senior staff, dangerous and thugish kids, and a
system which prevents a person from defending themselves against harm.
From Primary education age onwards, I was subjected to physical and psychological abuse every day until I left Secondary education at the age of 16.
I have been hit with fists, knees, feet, tables , chairs, had my head closed in a locker door, had javelins , shot, and discus thrown at me, had
knives pulled on me three out of five days a week, suffered constant verbal abuse and was even shot at with a high powered automatic electric BB gun.
For none of these things, did any student get expelled, suspended, or in any other way punished according to the severity of thier conduct.
When I had been in secondary education for 3 years, with all the violence that entailed, I had never once lifted a finger in response,save to deflect
blows, and disarm those who held knives, because it had always gotten me in trouble when I had reacted in primary school. One morning, in a maths
class, a kid named Ian, a fat thugish brute, turned in his chair and told me that my sister was a slag (anyone from Britain will understand the weight
of that insult). He turned back to face the front of class, after delivering this pearl, and after three years of turning the other cheek, I just
broke.
I stood up, and quietly moved round my desk, to stand behind Ian's chair. I reached around him and quickly snagged his tie, pulling it round so that
the hanging part was behind him, and , putting my knee in his back, I locked my hands around the tie and pulled . The tie tightened up, and began to
dig into the flesh of his neck, as other kids were trying to move me, and at one point the teacher tried to lever me off , smacking me in the face
with a text book, trying to make me flinch and release my grip.
As it was, I only stopped choking him when his tie broke around his neck, snapping at the stitch point that cheap school ties tend to have about
halfway down thier length. Ian was deep, deep purple, and gurgling and choking violently. He had been starved of oxygen for a minuite or so , but he
was so unfit that it had a more devastating effect than it otherwise would have. I almost killed him.
If I had been allowed to react to threats immediately , and properly throughout my life, if the school system had supported those who defend
themselves, rather than insisting that defense is merely retalliation, and is as bad as walking up and assaulting someone, then I would never have
flipped that way.
I would have just let a mere verbal insult slide, knowing that if it went further I would be able to deal with it, without being marked as a villan.
But the better part of a decade being abused without protection of any kind, or support from the schools system or the law, damaged my mind so
thoroughly that when the straw that broke the back of my resolve landed, I couldnt control all the pent up RAGE that had been forced to sit in me all
those years.
So strange though. Nothing was done to me, the school didnt want to know about the fact that someone had almost been killed on thier watch, they
didnt put me in detention even. The place was a hell, that you had to walk into every morning, and pray that you got to leave at the end of the day.
For any one who felt the same, or is going through this abismal type of school system, Casey is a hero, a bastion of a childs right to defend himself
against assault , and a reminder to the unwary of the consequences of casual violence.
All Hail Casey!