“Listen to them,” he said, nodding toward the growing crowd. “Something’s stirring them up.”
But then Misty was beside them and he couldn’t say more. He forced a smile. “You doing okay?”
“Scared to death,” she said.
“It’s okay if you want to back out,” he said. “We have other speakers.”
She shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “Everybody was right. I need to do this.” She glanced at Katie. “You’re going to stand right there with me, though, right?”
“I won’t budge from your side,” Katie promised.
“And we’re all going to be on the stage, too,” Laura reassured her.
Just then the microphone crackled to life. Sarah McDonald welcomed everyone to the live broadcast of the Serenity Rally Against Bullying. “You all already know why we’re here today. We intend to take a stand against something that eventually affects just about every child. Bullying can take many forms, from the toddler who snatches away shovels from the other kids in a sandbox or pushes another child off of a swing to something as offensive as what’s been happening recently to one of our high school students. We’re here to let everyone know that none of that is acceptable in our community, that we’re a town where people treat each other with respect and dignity.”
Her comments drew mostly cheers and applause, though J.C. noticed that a few people looked on silently.
Sarah continued, “Now I’d like to introduce a woman who taught many of you to always be on your best behavior, Frances Wingate.”
Frances looked frail but determined as she approached the podium. She looked out over the crowd. “I see a lot of people here today who spent time in my classroom over the years. I’m here today to talk about how ashamed I am of you.”
Her words drew a shocked gasp.
“Yes, you,” she continued, her tone stern. “These are your children who are engaging in these disrespectful, despicable acts against other children. I don’t know much about how the internet works, but I do understand that it can be a tool for cowards, a way to torment another human being. And that’s what’s happening right here in Serenity, with your blessing.”
She gazed out over the crowd. “Oh, I hear some of you saying you didn’t put up those posts or that your children would never do such a thing, but do you know for a fact that they didn’t? Do you monitor what they do online? I’ll wager you don’t. Far too few parents do. And unless you happen to be one of those few who does, then you’re responsible. You!” she said sternly, looking from face to face in the increasingly silent crowd. “You let this happen. You can fix it.”
Once more, she seemed to be looking every individual in the audience straight in the eye as she added fiercely, “And I expect you to do it.”
With that, she turned and walked back to her seat and sat down heavily. It took a moment, and then thunderous applause broke out.
J.C. leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You’ve given me a tough act to follow.”
She gave him a shaky smile. “Oh, I think you’ve got what it takes.”
Laura gave his hand a squeeze. “I know you do.”
J.C. approached the podium with trepidation. He began by talking about the kind of incidents he and Bill saw in their practice, the evidence of the toll bullying took on even the youngest children.
“We all act as if it’s no big deal at that age, that kids need to toughen up. I was told that just this week by a parent. Well, here’s the way I see it.”
He drew in a deep breath, cast a quick glance at Laura, then said, his voice wavering despite his best attempt to control it, “Bullying cost my little brother his life.”
Blinking back tears, he continued, “Stevie was a great kid. He was slower than other kids. He struggled in school, though it took years to figure out exactly why. His classmates were calling him a dummy by first grade. They never chose him for their teams at recess. He wanted so badly to be liked, to be normal, just like everyone else. He had a smile that could light up the world, but, day by day, year by year, that smile faded and the light in his eyes died.”
He let that sink in, then said, “When I realized what was happening, I did everything I could to protect him. I had more bloody noses and black eyes than any kid in school. My parents and teachers thought I was a troublemaker because I never told what was going on. Neither did Stevie. For a while things even got better.”
He paused. “And then I went to high school, leaving my kid brother on his own back in middle school, struggling to fit in, being beaten down emotionally a little more each day.” He heard the collective indrawn breath of the crowd and let the silence go on before adding, “Until he couldn’t take it anymore. Stevie hanged himself after school one day. He was thirteen years old.” J.C.’s voice broke. “Thirteen. Look around you at the children you know who are just barely starting adolescence. Try to imagine the amount of pain a child that age must have been in to take his own life.”