Dancing bears of India

Put yourself in the bears place.

How can they be so cruel? To pierce the baby bears nose with a red hot iron needle, and then put a horrible coarse dirty rope through it, all so they can make the poor bear dance and do whatever they want it to do.

Why are we so cruel to animals? And why doesn’t everyone do something to stop it?

Big James read the brochure about the plight of the dancing bears in India, and Maddy couldn’t bear the fact that they are taken from their mother, who is killed, at only four weeks old – just tiny baby bear-cubs; kept in sacks and then have all sorts of cruel and terrible things done to them, all so the people can make them dance to try and get some money.

It’s not right. It’s not fair. Nothing, no one, not even an animal, should be made to suffer so cruelly – and to suffer so badly for the whole of ones life. To not be fed properly, to be kept in tiny rooms and cages, to always have that yucky rope up your nose and a tight painful muzzle strapped around your mouth and nose – it makes me want to cry.

I wish I could make the people stop doing it, but what can I do? Some good people are trying to help the bears and stop the cruelty, but it happens too much. Too many bears are suffering too much.

Maddy says the bears make her feel so bad, because they remind her of how cruelly she was treated by her parents. They hit her a lot, like the men hit the bears with their sticks. Maddy felt caged in, and was harshly controlled with no freedom of her own; none of her own life to do whatever she wanted to do it, always being made to do what her parents said. The bears being treated so badly greatly upsets her, she wants to go to India to help free them, but I hope she doesn’t go, for what will Big James and me do without her?

Seeing the pictures of the poor lovely friendly bears makes us all feel so bad. So many bad things are done to such nice kind animals. So many bad things are done to children.

And it makes sense that we hurt animals because we hurt our children, and all because we – as Maddy and Big James tell me – are hurting ourselves. I don’t want to hurt myself, or anyone, or any animal. I want everyone to live free. Yes, that’s what I want.

I’m not old enough to do anything to help the poor dancing bears in India (and they’ve nearly all been freed), although Maddy and Big James did send a little money; but if you can help, you can go here www.hsi.org.au so the rest of the dancing bears can be rescued and live free in the special sanctuaries for them without any horrible rope up their nose.

Put yourself … in your child’s place

Childhood repression and parenting

Put yourself in your child’s place.

“My feet are cold!”

“Well go and get some socks james – put your shoes on. Go on, don’t just sit there, if your feet are cold, go and put your shoes and socks on. It’s bad sitting around with cold feet, you’ll likely catch a chill, so hurry up, go on, do it now!”

But I don’t want to do it now. I want to sit and finish my bread and peanut butter, then I’ll do it.

Why can’t I just say what I feel, and do what I want to do? Why can’t she leave me alone – stop telling me what to do all the time? Does she think I’m an absolute moron and don’t know I can put shoes and socks on? Why doesn’t she just wait and see what I do? And if she wonders why I’m not doing anything about it, then ask me, not just take over and order me around. She’s always taking over having to be the boss of everything.

I feel so anxious. Every time I open my mouth I am told to do something, all when I don’t want to do it. I wish I didn’t speak, but if I don’t say anything, then I get told to speak!

Why can’t she be nice to me? Listen to what I say and just empathize with me, leaving me to my life. I just want to say my feet are cold so I can get some sympathy from her. And with her love and care of me, I would feel good, better, and I’d be able to sit a little longer with my cold feet while I finish off my afternoon snack. Then I’ll go and attend to my feet.

I wish she would leave me alone and stop interfering all the time. I don’t want to get into trouble for having cold feet, and saying so; and I don’t want to have shoes and socks on yet, I like my feet being bare. I don’t want to feel worse than my cold feet are making me feel. I don’t want to feel like I don’t matter and my feet are more important than me.

Jake’s mother, when he said he had cold feet the other day, didn’t tell him what to do, she even offered to get his shoes and socks for him! I wish my Gran was like his mother and would do the same.

Jake’s mother isn’t always telling him what to do and making him do it when he doesn’t want to. She doesn’t interfere in his life. She lets him live it and be just how he wants to be. She doesn’t think he’d catch a cold if his feet are cold. She knows he’s old enough and quite capable of looking after himself. She doesn’t treat him like a dumbo, like he doesn’t know anything. She’d let Jake have cold feet all day long if he wanted them, and she likes him telling her what he’s feeling. She doesn’t see that feeling bad about something like having cold feet is bad. It’s just having cold feet. And having cold feet isn’t going to kill you. And so what if it does, you die and go to heaven. What’s so bad about that?

Put yourself  … in your child’s place