Be Like Robyn

This came up in my memories on Facebook this morning. Backstory: approximately a year ago I was trying to hold Jefferson County Public Schools to some level of accountability for their admitted lack of bullying prevention and, arguably minimal, intervention. My son was bullied to the point of wanting to take his own life. He was excluded from activities, and the school itself almost excluded him from the yearbook because he was hospitalized during the week the layout was finalized. But there were glimmer of hope...one JCPS employee asked about his well being, she even came to our house to help catch him up on the music they were learning in band class. 

And then there was Robyn. My Knight in Shining Armor for 20+ years. My Savior. My anchor of hope in this oft-hopeless world. So I wanted to recollect a story to you and encourage you to Be Like Robyn. 

Long post, please read it all the way:


Today, after receiving an e-mail from the Deputy Superintendent essentially stating she would no longer communicate to me except through their legal department (still no mention of any child's well being), I got to chat with a dear friend of 24 years. She has held my hand through this, let me know what my (and Paul's) rights are and kept me going when I was ready to let the voice die out.


Today I shared a moment I doubted she even remembered. It was junior year english, Mr. Peacock's class. Most people adored him, but I loathed him and the classroom culture he created. At one point during the year, we were invited to bring in current events topics and discuss them. This one particular day, a student brought in an article about a Gay-Straight Alliance (GSA) that a student was trying to begin in Utah (I believe utah). She was expressly prohibited from the after-school club, despite having gone through the same steps as all other clubs. Mr. Peacock offered his own opinions, similar to Bill Lamb on Fox News, on each current event. On this one, and I remember it as clear as day--he was standing to the left of the front of the classroom, he had a green sweater with some shirt underneath, wringing his hands as if he had words of wisdom he knew we wanted to hear ready to drip forth from his puckered lips, he paced left, he paced right, he looked at the ground and then at us, his captive audience. The next two statements had profound impact on my life so I want you to read them clearly:

Mr. Peacock: Here are my thoughts, on this particular subject...unfortunately in this field, of english literature majors, we have more than our fair share and we have to learn to get along.

Student, raising hand: Why is that unfortunate, Mr. Peacock?


There was no answer, except that we immediately moved on to vocabulary. I learned two lessons that day, the world is full of two kinds of people: Mr. Peacocks and Robyn Smiths. I knew there would be people who judged, looked down, scorned, etc. people like me. And I also knew there were people who would speak up on my behalf when my voice wasn't yet strong enough to do so on its own, and those voices are strong enough to silence the others.


People like Robyn save people like me. Read that line again: People like Robyn SAVE people like me. I have never once felt like I wanted to die. I have beat a lot of the odds that were stacked against me, not because I am awesome, but because the village that has always surrounded me worked to change those odds to my favor.


In all of this, I wish there were just one more Robyn to speak up at the District. But since there isn't, since it appears hundreds if not thousands of students are yearning for a Robyn in their lives, we'll trudge forward and try our darndest to ensure it happens. Most of those students won't ever meet or know Robyn, but they'll surely feel the effects of her strong, confident and loud voice... until their own voices are strong enough to carry the message independently and for the next generation.


If you have a Robyn in your life, thank them. If you don't, become one. To Robyn and all the others like her, thank you for saving my life. And the lives of so many of my brothers and sisters along the way. To those we couldn't save, I am truly sorry. We tried hard, and we'll try harder next time.