Yesterday I was up in Albany. Albany is the capitol of NY state, so it is a city in a way. We were on a side street stopped at a lred light. On the sidewalk directly outside my window were 2 teen boys. You all will recognize the type of boys they were. One was overweight, "soft, could tell never had much excersise and he was young and smaller in stature then the other one. The other one was bigger, stronger, had a very strong athelitic build and looked very street wise.

Suddenly the bigger one reached out and hit the smaller one in the face, the smaller one reacted by lunging at the bigger guy. My father who is driving suddenly becomes the boys commentator of the fight. The bigger one knocks down the smaller one, proceeds to hold him on the ground between his legs and then systematically punch him in the face. I can see all of this happerning in front of me, I am shocked and mortified and more then alittle bothered that the weaker one is getting his A** whooped. I start struggling to get out of my seatbelt, in a split second I have decided I've seen enough. I'm going to do something about it. Now get a visual of me how I am, I have one functioning arm, I'm5'2, wear an AFO brace, my balence comes and goes and my left side of my body is very slow moving and uncoordinated. I'm struggling to get out of a seatbelt, my father realizes what I'm about to do.. He grabs a hold of my left arm and says you're staying right here, you aren't getting involved! I can't pull my left arm out of his grasp, plus I was afraid the left arm would come out of the shoulder socket cause I have a sublexation.

At that moment the crossing guard shows up and stops the fight, I can't take my eyes off the smaller guys battered face. My father had abruptly stopped his commentating over the struggle to keep me in the car. He asked me what I thought I could have done?

Obviously, I am still thinking about this the next morning. It really bothered me on different levels. It bothered me on the level that my brother was always one of the weaker ones and picked on unmercifully. Kids are cruel to the weak or different from them. It bothered me on the level that one kid was bigger, stronger and it was an unfair fight. Plus the smaller kid I hate to say threw punches like a girl.

As a kid I had my share of fights at school, I never backed down from anyone. and I may not have had any formal boxing or fighting techniques but I had years of being a tom boy and having an older brother, so sometimes I did give as good as I got. But there were times when my big mouth got me into a situation that was out of my control. As I hadn't any fear, I learned my lessons the hard way. But what I witnessed yesterday was not a circumstance of learning a lesson the hard way. What I saw was intimidation and bullying. What I saw was wrong. So I'll stop my story here and ask what you might have done if you had stumbled on the same scene? Would you have sat in your car and done nothing? Driven away and being unaffected? Content in the knowledge that you whew! missed the chance to get involved.

To answer my fathers question of what I thought I was going to do? In that split second of impulsivity, I planned on body slamming the big guy, chances are I would lose my balence and I'd fall on him on the sidewalk. That was my course of action, then I would have sat on him . Not a very solid plan I see in the retelling of it this morning, but at least I would have acted instead of judging how todays kids are and complaining about them, as my parents are so quick to do. I hate the fact that they are intimidated by life and would rather live their life from the sidelines. They are always on the outside looking in. I choose to be involved on every level. Whether I use my head or not. I disagree that just because I'm a survivor, that gives me a free pass past go and I collect the $200.00. It comes down to right and wrong and putting ones money where ones mouth is, people wistfully discuss how there is such a breakdown in the youths of today and society in general, well doesn't change have to start somewhere? Maybe my thinking is flawed or it is shaded by irritation at my father.

Pam