I've Been Schooled
Bullying in school has become a very hot button issue of late. Everyday on the news you hear about children suffering at the hands of their peers. It nothing new mind you. I remember that age. I remember doing things I am very not proud of in order to maintain my social status and not become "That Kid". The one that mercilessly endured whatever vitriol every one else threw their way on a daily basis. Bullying probably been going on since the day we crawled out of the swamps. It just gets a lot more media attention now.
The only thing worse than being the victim of a bully or bullies is being the parent of a victim. My children are not being bullied. I'm pretty sure they are not bullying anyone either. I don't think they have the constitution for it, but I'm sure every parent believes their children are incapable of such awful things. I was once told that I was very chill about things that happen to my kids on the school yard. I don't freak out over bumps and bruises. If a child tells one of my sons that they suck one day, I wait and see, and in all likeliness they will be friends again by first recess the next day, so I guess that makes me "chill". But I informed this person that if my child was ever the victim of bullying at school, they would not like the Michelle that they would meet next.
I am a total split personality. I am all funny and happy one day, but you mess with my babies, you are poking a stick at Mama Bear. You do not F*^K with Mama Bear! As with most parents out there I will protect my children from harm. I will not protect them from the consequences of their actions, but I will protect them from some little shit trying to make their life miserable at school.
The emotion involving harm to your children runs deep. I'm talking Marianas Trench deep. I've seen grown men engage in a fistfight one day, and a month later they are splitting beer and chicken wings like nothing ever happened. I have never once met a parent who doesn't remember the name, age, hair and eye colour and shoe size of the kid who punched their baby in the face at school. We don't forget and we don't forgive. And here is where I got schooled by a seven year old.
In October my precious baby Will came home and told me that he and a friend had an altercation on the school yard. This kid then proceeded to go around to their classmates at recess and ask them to "assassinate" my baby. Watching a few to many video games, hmmmm? Mama Bear was sitting up. One of the other students took him up on his offer and pretended to stab my baby with an invisible knife. Will was not hurt, but he was not happy. Mama Bear, on the other hand, was PISSED. I spent the next day gathering intel on this little jerk who would incite others to harm my baby. I reigned in Mama Bear and proceeded to make sure the school and I were on the same page about this incident. Turns out the office never got the whole story from the yard. Once they had the full story immediate action was taken. I went home happy and filed that kids intel in the back of my brain for future reference.
A month later Will came home black an blue. I have never seen so many humongous bruises on one person! One whole side of his body was bruised from his eye to his ankle. "What the heck happened?", I asked. Apparently Will had given this same boy a "boost" to slide down one of the snowbanks at school, and this little miscreant retaliated by throwing my baby off the snowbank and onto the concrete below, resulting in the severe bruising.
Now, I am an objective person. Who knows what Will, a seven year old considers a, "boost". Did he give his classmate a boost, or did he push too hard and shove this kid down the snowbank? It's had to tell. Maybe his classmate wasn't too happy about being pushed. Makes sense to me. But the damage done to my child was way overboard. Mama Bear was furious. She was frustrated though, because each time Will was harmed at school, he put hands on first. The first time he had tagged the boy too hard in Tag, and the second time he "boosted" him on the snowbank. I decided I had to tackle this issue at home.
Will was under strict orders: you do not play with that kid; you do not touch that kid; you do not even look at that kid. If he comes around, just walk away. This has been our status quo since November. Problem solved.
Then, one day in January, Will asked me if this kid could come over for a sleepover. "What?", I said. "No, of course not".
A week later he asked if the boy could come over for a play date. "No", I said. "I don't like that boy".
Every two weeks or so Will asked me if this kid could come over and play, and every time I said, "no".
Finally the other day Will asked me if this boy could come to his birthday sleepover this June, (he likes to plan his birthday well in advance). I looked at him with genuine confusion. "Will", I asked, "why would you want to invite him after what he did to you"?
"Mom!", he said, somewhat exasperated, "that was ages ago! We've been friends for months! I don't care about that stuff any more. Why do you?"
Why
do I?
Shame crept over me like a blanket. I had been holding a grudge against a
child for months. A seven year old. A child, who my son had ultimately laid hands on first, who made a couple bad decisions. No lasting harm was done. The boys had put it behind them long ago. I am always teaching my children about the power of forgiveness and I failed to heed my own lesson. With a seven year old.
I was schooled by my son that day. I hope I never forget that lesson. I told him how proud I was of him and that I was ashamed of myself. He was right and I was an idiot.
Now, this does not mean that Mama Bear will never make another appearance. Every situation is different and has to be dealt with on its own. She may be waaaayy back in her den, innocently licking her paws, but she'll be ready if she is ever needed again. I just hope that I can temper her temper with some compassion and patience.
Checkout this story from the book Zen Shorts by Jon J. Muth. It's one of my favorite children's books.
""Zen shorts" are short meditation - ideas to puzzle over - tools wich hone our ability to act with intuition. They have no goal, but they often challenge us to reexamine our habits,desires, concept, and fears".
-John J. Muth
A Heavy Load
Two traveling monks reached a town where there was a young woman waiting to step out of her sedan chair. The rains had made deep puddles and she couldn't step across without spoiling her silken robes. She stood there, looking very cross and impatient. She was scolding her attendants. They had nowhere to place the packages they held for her, so they could not help her across the puddle.
The younger monk noticed the woman, said nothing, and walked by. The older monk quickly picked her up and put her on his back, transported her across the water, and put her down on the other side. She didn't thank the older monk, she just shoved him out of the way and departed.
As they continued on their way, the young monk was brooding and preoccupied. After several hours, unable to hold his silence, he spoke out. "That woman back there was very selfish and rude, but you picked her up on your back and carried her! Then she didn't even thank you!"
"I set that woman down hours ago," the older monk replied. "Why are you still carrying her?"
Michy
