Standing up for everyone

   Everyone can remember schoolyard taunting. Even as we grow up there are times and emotional tripwires that make us kids again. The key word is kids. We did it when we were children, heartless little monsters who had yet to establish the full difference between right and wrong. It's not an excuse to berate your peers, but it cuts you a little slack. Anyone who's ever been bullied will tell you that no matter how old you get, the residual sting is still there.
   Phoebe Prince and the people who mercilessly picked on her were not children. They were teenagers, young adults fully aware of the impact their actions had. They knew it wasn't O.K. to call her an Irish whore. They knew that throwing cans at her as she walked home would be frowned upon. Most importantly, they knew after Phoebe went home on Jan. 14 and committed suicide, it had something to do with their immature, callous bullying.
   Recently, six teenagers and three juvenile students were charged in connection with her death. As widely reported, teachers and peers saw Phoebe being harassed and did nothing to help, these bystanders essentially sentenced Phoebe to a grim end simply by turning a blind eye.
   As a society, we choose to stay out of the business of others. In 1964 Kitty Genovese was raped and murdered outside her Brooklyn apartment as more than a dozen people sat in their apartments and heard her scream. One man turned up his radio to drown her out, another was quoted as saying he didn't want to get involved.
   Our parents raised us to be polite, not to eavesdrop or butt into anyone else's conversation, but when certain lines are crossed, action needs to be taken. Hearing a neighbor beat a spouse warrants a phone call to the police. If you're walking down the street and see someone being assaulted you don't have to go into superhero mode, but you could seek help. If you're sitting in your living room and you hear a cry for help from outside, something certainly must be done.
   The goal is to understand that as jaded as we may be, we are still compassionate. We still feel for others when they are in pain. We still want to help those in need.
   As a penance for the Phoebe Princes, Kitty Genoveses and anyone else who has ever died because someone else didn't think it was their place to speak up, we need to make the transition from useless bystanders to empathetic citizens. Because if someone had spoken up for Phoebe, if someone had called the police when they heard Kitty scream, they would both still be alive.