I went to school in the 1980s and 1990s. I had just been moved from a private school to a county public school.
I had red hair and freckles. Nobody else, except for a girl, looked like me.
My new school, PS 666, was a prison for children. My fellow inmates were mean.
My first day of school, a child assaulted me. Except for a blood nose, nobody was hurt. My second day of school, a different child assaulted me. Same for the third day. After a couple of weeks, they go tired of testing the new convict, and things seemed peaceful.
But a month later during lunch, it happened again. My attacker, somebody I had never spoken to and didnt know, walked up to me. I turned to face him. He threw a series of round house punches into my ribs.
At least I wasn’t being hit in the face this time, but it still hurt. I needed him to stop. I showed him the same courtesy of avoiding his face.
I threw one jab into his sternum just below the throat. There was a sharp crack, and He grunted.
Wanting it to end, I waited, watching him. His neck and face flushed scarlet. He turned away and went back to his seat.
I went home, grateful no teacher had seen the fight. Nobody had gotten in trouble; but I couldn’t stop thinking aobut it. Something about it bothered me.
The next day, the principal called me into his office and told me the boy had died. It was because of the fight. One jab from a ten year old. I was in a lot of trouble and had many conversations with the police, psychiatrists, and councilors. I was blamed for the fight he started despite the fact that I was only defending myself. Aduts are shittier than children sometimes.
Out of the 20 children on my school bus, several grew up to be convicted child molestors, house robbers, and murderers. I don’t consider myself a murderer; it was self defense—if that kid had lived, he might have murdere.d A few suicided, others overdosed or died other ways. And nearly all of them were literalist Christians.
So, 30 years ago, half of all children were violent, and they grew up to be child molestors.