Greenhills Education

Growing up around violence

Innocence was lost quickly growing up in the green hills , I learned early on of the cruelness that other children,particularly pre teens , were capable of.
Whether their acts of violence towards me were brought on by influences of others in the homelife or out of boredom and curiosity ,I will never know.
One early memory involves older children encouraging a child my age whilst sitting on my chest to lay punches into my face as my hands were trapped at my side.
Older neighbours walking past and punching you in the face for no reason known to me or the few friends I had in the street.
One older kid ,in a time when snow was regular in the winter season, had perfected his throw of iced snowballs , the sudden shock of the violent blow upon the back of your head , brought such a loud noise and pain that your thought and reason escaped you for a moment untill the ache and realisation hit you.
Such treachery of your fellow human in the early stages of growing and learning I couldn't at first comprehend.
I adopted a mistrust of not only other stranger children but any child older than me.
I learned early that they wanted to see my reaction, honing their skills in violence.
I practised showing no signs of pain early on except the tears of anger and betrayal, I would not cry out to please my attackers when the occasions would arise.
One of my places of solace was the woods where I would climb, build and explore.
This sanctuary was once too polluted with the same senseless violent acts I came to expect.
When once I was playing in the park within these woods , since burned down, I was attacked by older children who where new to my young mind ,they had small what I thought were bobbles wrapped high up around pony tails, at first I thought they were girls.
They were determined to perfect punching me in the stomach, three of them in total , one holding my arms whilst the other 2 took turns in punching me in a way perhaps they had seen on a TV show, they mg to knock the wind from me, I would show no sign of pain only fear and anger.
An older again child was sitting on the swings watching , I had seen him around and known his face well enough to say hello when we passed , I audibly asked for his help , his reply was they give him cigarettes so he couldn't, another betrayal.
I learned after that these kids were Sikh wearing the putka , perhaps using me for retribution of the wrong doings that were once perpetrated upon them.
Violence for the sake of violence, learned behaviour, a building of mistrust and contempt.
To this day I am cynical of all and slow to trust.
I would like to return to the time of innocence and wish to keep my children safe from this shock and betrayal.