"An Open Letter to Kids and Adults About Bullying"

Howdy Friends,

Recently I was at a meeting where a mother was very upset about her son who was the victim of “bullying.” I put the word here in quotes because I despise the word, the action, and the suggestion it gives. In our society today it seems we need to name everything. I heartily disagree with that need. You see every time we name something we get more of it. It instantly becomes a fad, a thing to do, to be part of, and in the case of bullying, it makes those vulnerable have their antenna up, more aware of and sensitive to the act. It weakens them and makes it more difficult to brush off the offense, or perceived offense.

Back to the mother at the meeting, we chatted a bit, she was so distraught at first she could barely function. “It’s been going on for years,” she said with sadness washing her face. Pity, stress and worry consumed her and it showed. Going on for years? Wow. Among other things I told her, in my opinion, the worst thing a parent or guardian can do is to swaddle the youth in pity. Pity can be perceived as a reward, and it becomes addicting, and the child will seek more of it, making him/her more vulnerable, subject to and in a dangerous place at the hands of those who would torment. Pity does absolutely nothing to prepare the child to deal with the real world. Rather it sets them up for a life of low self-esteem, self doubt and too often failure. 

Who am I to give advice on this subject? I lived it, horribly. I was abandon as a kid on a dairy farm. A farm that did not have indoor plumbing, electric or other niceties we take for granted. Before I was abandon I had spent 3 years locked in a room, my own father hated to look at me. You see I was born with several birth defects, misshapen hands, big arms and a humpback. My father and stepmother did not want to “Look at a freak” so they locked me away. I never knew for sure but I believe now authorities got wind of it, so they dumped me off on this farm.

At the farm I usually had two sets of clothes, milked and did other chores in pretty much the same clothes I went to school in. I was called, stinky, big hands, humpback, and other nasty things for a lot of years. I ate alone at lunch because no one wanted to be with a kid who used “ode de barnyard” cologne. So while I’m not “educated” in any way to give advice to you kids and adults, I’ve walked in your shoes.

Today I’m president of “Heartland Horse Heroes” equine assisted therapy center, and one of the programs we conduct there is Michael McMeel’s “Inner City Slickers.” A program for what society labels at-risk youths. Strong in that program is teaching self-respect, trust in themselves and others, respect for others—and “you can do it, and never give up!”

I tell the kids bullying is nothing new, it just has a name now, so it’s in style—in a bad way.

Sadly today kids don’t get enough contact with nature, or they would see how establishing position is actually a part of life. Chickens do it, the phrase “pecking order” comes from them. Puppies and kittens do it, who hasn’t seen balls of fur wrestling for fun, and dominance. Horse do it, think of the phrase “alpha mare.” It happens for kids and adults too, and all through life in play, and work. We need to learn to respect ourselves so we can master it, not let it master us. And pity, while soft, fuzzy and nice feeling, does little other than weaken us.

Another thing about bullies. Remember, bullies are cowards. Honest. That’s why there are always bullies in a pack, or the lead bully always seems to have team mates. They are cowards, can’t do anything on their own so they put like minded cowards on their team and pick out someone they can gang up on for their own pleasure and feeling of self-importance.

Bullies are often jealous of those whom they pick on. That’s why they do it. To try to tear their victim down. They want to build themselves up by stepping on the backs of those who are better than they are...Sometimes being picked on is great praise indeed. Smile and say, “Thank you.”

Today bullying is tough to avoid with so many youngsters growing up in broken homes, few actual role models and heroes. And the dog-gone electronic age. It is more difficult for kids to get away from bullies. Kids, I know social media is a huge part of life now, but if you think you are being picked on, shut it down. Really, leave it. It will only connect you with anxiety. Or find a way to make it so private only your few closest friends can connect. Don’t text or receive texts on your phone. If someone wants to talk to you, make them talk!

Try to remember, you, and only you can define who you are. TAKE CHARGE OF YOUR LIFE! If there are negative people in your life avoid them as much as possible. Negativity is contagious. You don’t need it! Find a mentor, a role module. Don’t seek out pity or codling. TAKE CHARGE.

One last thing, if you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation, smile. It will totally disarm them. Don’t let them take the reins of your life from your happy hands!

God Bless & Gitty Up, Dutch Henry

Heartland Horse Heroes Second – Inner City Slickers Day

Howdy Folks,

Saturday, October 18, Heartland Horse Heroes held their second Inner City Slickers (ICS) day. ICS, founded by Michael McMeel, former drummer for Three Dog Night, is a program where at-risk youth spend a day on a ranch, farm or equestrian center learning through ranch and equestrian chores, activities and fun, by the "Cowboy Code," they indeed are important, they have purpose, can build self esteem, trust and feel honor. There is a real magic in the day and you can read more about Michael and ICS HERE.

Heartland Horse Heroes had invited girls from the Discovery School, and beforehand we had asked for each girl to write a short note about themselves, their fears, worries and why they were at the Discovery School. Michael and I reviewed the stories Friday evening, and they were so sad, tough to read. These 11 girls ranged in age between 12 and 17 and each had already in their young lives endured so much. No wonder self esteem, trust and honor were foreign to them. Let me mention here, we could not hold this program without our fantastic volunteers, some of whom drove 3 and 6 hours to be there.

LaRue Sprouse talking about holding onto your dreams no matter the obstacles

The day started with the participants' arrival, LaRue Sprouse, owner of Sprouses' Corner Ranch and host of Heartland Horse Heroes led them on a short farm tour. She paused at the big show ring and spoke about her own dreams, and the hurdles she needed to overcome to realize them. I took the moment to build on that and encouraged them to look around at the beauty, the horses, the world that LaRue had created. We talked about holding fast to your dream, expect people to tell you, "you can't do it," and forging ahead anyway - The only negativity that can touch you is what you allow, so you have it in your power to brush it aside, to grab your dream.

Michael explains the power of self confidence.

Michael began to talk and engage them, he asked real questions about being let down, about trust, respect. I watched closely their faces, saw some ready to trust him, others roll their eyes as if to say, "Heard all this before, no-one cares." He painted pictures they could see with his words, promised he would always be there for them, promised they could trust him, and themselves, and told them today would be a journey of building trust, confidence and self respect. He asked on a scale of 1 to 10 how much they trusted him – it varied from 5 to minus 8. He was cool with that and said it was a lot better than minus 10, we all had a nice chuckle and a bit of an engaging chat. But half the faces remained hard.

We then handed out journals, and asked them to write their first thoughts of how they felt that moment. On the first page is pasted the commitment they must sign "I believe in myself – If I fall I will get up – If I'm beaten I will return – I will never stop getting better – I will NEVER give up – EVER!" Each time they open their journal they will see their commitment. We encouraged them to write in it daily happy, sad, mad – it doesn't matter, write it.

We created teams or "posses" who would work and play and take the challenges together. Some of the activities were competition, each posse member would help, support and encourage the team. And we set out about the glorious day. First we worked, real ranches have real work, we mucked paddocks and cleaned tack. Of course at first there was a bit of confusion, hesitation but as minutes wore on teamwork and cooperation began to lighten the load, and faces. Always Michael was there to encourage and inspire, as he promised he would be. All the volunteers were, too.

The "Fall Of Faith"

The first challenge was the "Fall Of Faith." A 10 foot step ladder the girls were to step up as high as they could bear, cross their arms and fall back, trusting that the adults, and a few team members would catch them. Great fear and doubt kept anyone from being willing, but Michael reminded them, he, and all of us were there to catch them, they would never fall alone. Eventually one girl went first to great cheers! Then another and another, the cheers and encouragement got louder, funnier and soon even the most timid girl took the fall ... Several insisted on going again as they wanted to step higher up the ladder. I studied their faces, by the end of this first challenge not a single face lacked a smile, all hard faces had melted a little already. And Michael's lowest score was now minus 5.

Relaxing in the sun for lunch

Then lunch, which proved to be a circus of laughter and giggles as each girl relived their "not very scary" fall of faith. Michael drifted among them, as we sat in the sun warmed grass, and told stories about everything from his recording and TV and acting days to his first horse. Then he started roping the "straw steers" and some of the girls had short but successful lariat tossing lessons.

 

Learning about balance, trust and connection with Sandman's help

It was time to ride now, and LaRue's fine and devoted lesson horses, Donny, Sandman and Penny entered the ring. A few girls were extremely eager, a few timid, a few refused, at first. Now riding time at a "Slicker" is about much more than riding, which is done bareback. It's about discovering the spirit of the horse, learning to hear the horse and facing fears, if there are any, with the help of the horse. I gave a little talk on the connection between horses and humans while volunteers readied the girls with helmets.  First they mingled with the horses, some touched, others hugged, and finally a few rode. And with Michael's promised support and encouragement, eventually everyone rode. I noticed even the most isolated girls began to join in the fun, the posses mingled together, all helped one another. Michael's score moved up to an even zero.

Teamwork, high spirits and reaching high for a goal, the Cowboy Toothpick

For the next hour we played confidence and team and trust building games, the "Cowboy Toothpick," a 12 foot high pole and each posse collaborates to drop 3 rings over the top – it takes real teamwork to get a posse member up that high! But with effort, teamwork and plenty of cheering and laughter they got it done, together!

 

Ridin' high with new found confidence on the wild Barrel Bull (I wish I could paste here the thundering cheers of encouragement!)

The day's highlight, and most demanding and thrilling challenge, the barrel bull ride, was saved for last. Each step of the way all day is carefully orchestrated to build high spirits, self confidence and trust, and even though each participant by this time had overcome fears, and built trust, in themselves, each other, Michael and our volunteers, that high swinging barrel gave them all pause ... For about a minute. Then cries of encouragement convinced one girl to ride high, and soon everyone rode the barrel bull, laughing, screaming and loving it. Michael told them, "It only takes balance, just like life."

Ending the day with thoughts about living and loving life with self respect, courage, faith, dreams and purpose.

We ended the day back in the barn where we all talked at once, laughed about the silliness of the day and congratulated everyone on their success and spirit of going for it. I looked carefully at tired, dirty, happy faces ... not a single uninterested or hard face could be found. I got the feeling for some of them it may well have been the most fun day they could remember, perhaps ever had. Michael assured them he, and we, would always be there for them, they were never alone again, they could contact him, or us, anytime. for any reason. Michael asked them to write another entry in their journals, that they might have today to turn to, always. Michael's "trust" score had skyrocketed to 15!

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry

Photos by Connie Bloss and Cynthia Drew -

Grandpop, the Reporter and Firewood

 Howdy Folks,

This is the 4th in a series of visits with Grandpop – A World War II Veteran and cowboy. We first met Grandpop on June 27, 2013 in "Perhaps I just Lived Too Long (HERE) … Enjoy your visit and please share. 

Grandpop, the Reporter and Firewood 

I knew I was in for a treat when I saw the tiny white car with the local newspaper's logo on the door parked halfway between the barn and house. Every once in a while they'd send an intern out to have a chat with Grandpop and write a story. I found them in the barn. From the looks of things, and the pale face of the young intern, it may have been his first venture into a horse barn, and first time sitting on a straw bale. I smiled at his attempt to settle in a way that the straw didn't poke him.

Kessy, Saturday and me writing a story.

Grandpop tossed a nod my way, introduced us, then went back to brushing Blue. I leaned against the saddle stand, back out of the way, to watch. And listen.

"So they tell me you were in the war." The young man held pen to tablet. "Iraq?"

Grandpop stopped, laid the brush on Blue's back and chuckled. "I'm a might older than that … World War 2." He turned away briefly to tug on Blue's mane, but I knew he was hiding his eyes. Thinking of those years is always hard on him. He'd rather talk about horses, ranching and family. The important things, as he would say.

"Really," the intern said. "Wow, I never thought of that war … don't know much about it." He made a few notes. "Where you always a … cowboy? How did you get the ranch?"

"A cowboy?"

"It's not like I had it pictured, but sure, you've got land, horses, cattle. Seems like a cowboy. Except you ended up with a farm, or ranch."

"Ended up with a ranch, did I?" Grandpop pulled his hat, scratched his head, pretending to ponder that one.

"Sure look at it all. I've only been out here a few weeks, this is my first visit to a real farm … I mean you must have had some lucky breaks to get all this. That's what I'd like to touch on for my story."

Grandpop pointed to the big oak. "How would you like to take a little stroll?"

"How far. I mean, what for?"

"Oh I'd like to walk a little, stretch these old legs a bit, and show you the view."

I followed behind as we made our way to the big oak, walked between the mares, who promptly fell in line behind us, much to the reporter's worry. Grandpop had a little fun, respectfully, assuring him mares don't eat humans. Even city slickers, I heard him add with a friendly chuckle.

We walked beyond the majestic tree and on up to a high knoll just outside the woods, pausing every now and then for Grandpop to lean on his cane and catch his breath. Grandpop used each break to point out one vista or another. The young reporter made notes as he listened.

Finally we reached our destination. A little campsite just outside the fence at the edge of the woods. I'd not been there for years, and from the looks of it no one else had either. The ring of rocks for the campfire was still there, waiting.

"From here you can see pretty near every bit of our spread. One of my favorite spots. Almost built the house up here, but, my wife liked the valley better. We used to come up here real regular for picnics, campfires and the like. Now, not so much." He grinned wide, "Next time I'd better ride a horse, this trek about wore me out … Our youngest son runs the outfit now, and he's doin' a mighty fine job." Grandpop settled down on the log hewn bench he'd made decades ago.

"So there was no house? How did you live here?"

"Well, we were younger then, and bunkin' in a tent that first summer was a high time. Yes sir, that was a mighty special summer. We had a 2 room house up by fall. Over the years we poured a lot of hard work, sweat and love into this little outfit, and by golly it sure was worth every effort … Hey, it's a long walk back, how about a little campfire, since we're here anyway. I should rest a bit, and we can finish up your story." He pointed toward the woods, nodded to the reporter, grinned my way. "Would you mind gatherin' a few sticks for us?"

"Sure." Timidly the reporter began to gather fallen twigs and branches, making certain not to get out of our sight.

Grandpop used his cane to brush the debris from the fire ring, settled back on the bench, then talked the young reporter through building his first campfire.

When the first tiny yellow flames licked at the twigs the young man rocked back, smiled wide at Grandpop, "I never did anything like that before! Look at my fire go!"

Grandpop leaned on his cane, stood and offered his hand to the young man. "These days there's too much talk about some folks havin' more than others and being angry and jealous about it ... There's an old cowboy sayin' … God put the firewood in the woods for everybody, it's up to each of us to gather it and build our campfire." They shook hands. "That's the story you should write, young fella."

Gitty  UP ~ Dutch Henry 

You can read the Fifth in my Grandpop series "How About A Smile"(HERE)