An Open Letter to the Kids Who Made the Bus Monitor Cry

Dear Boys,

You should be ashamed of yourselves.

I hope that the nation’s disgust and outrage over your vicious, cruel, and unkind words has made you think, not twice - but endlessly - about how you treat other people. 

I hope that you feel guilt and remorse, and I hope that it sticks with you for the rest of your lives.

I hope you’ve thought about how you’d feel if someone spoke to your mother, grandmother, or sister that way. If you haven’t, please do. 

I hope that this has made you realize the power of your words, and the power of the Internet. You used them to spew and share negativity, and hate – and today they’re being used against you. Learn from it.

I hope you never for one moment forget what it feels like to have everyone gang up on you and say awful, hurtful things.

I hope your punky prepubescent egos and souls are damaged just enough that you have no choice but to change your lives.

I hope that your parents respond with tough love, and teach you the lessons you so desperately need to learn. Instead of shaking you silly (like so many people would love to do) I hope that they make this the most educational summer you will ever have.

I hope they take you to soup kitchens and homeless shelters to volunteer. I hope they make you read books about people who have been bullied, and I hope they make you write an essay about what it means to “live with integrity” every single day until you get it.

Then, at Christmas time, I hope they bring you to a Dollar Store and make you give every last penny they would have spent on your gifts to the people who are shopping there. More than anything, I hope you understand why.

I hope your seemingly dead consciences are resurrected, and you recognize that your blatant disrespect and the horrid way you spoke to Karen Klein is the exact kind of behavior that breaks hearts and destroys lives. I hope that you never have to know how bad the consequences of actions like yours can be. 

I want you to know that the world extends far beyond Greece, NY - and not everyone in it is as fortunate as you are. 

Last but not least, I hope someone shits on your parents’ doorsteps and they make you clean it up.


Praying for You,


Liz Chatterton 

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