Bullying vs Life is Like That
Recently, Duchess has been collapsing into tears after school pretty regularly. This is not all that surprising; Duchess is a creature of highs and lows, and the effort of maintaining an eager, focused attitude all day at school usually yields a whiny, low-blood-sugar slouch home. On the walk home, she reports all the Terrible things that happened to her that day. Usually, she can be reminded to consider all the positive things that also happened, and often concedes that yes, in general, the day was pretty good, EXCEPT for one or two bad things. However, she's been having a harder time doing that lately, and her enthusiasm about going to school is waning. I'm not sure why, but she's definitely reporting more occasions when other kids have hurt her feelings or embarrassed her publicly.
She's not being bullied. I don't think a lot of Official Bullying happens at her school. Mostly what happens, as far as I can tell based on my observations and reports from my very unreliable informant, is garden-variety power plays, the kind that a teacher might not notice, might not be able to easily identify the culprit, or might decide isn't worth the time to address. However, those can be really unpleasant, and hurtful. Duchess is thin-skinned and extremely concerned about her social reputation, and I am increasingly concerned that she is an inviting target for bullies of all stripes. It's very possible that she won't be the middle-schooler I imagine - a six-foot-tall thirteen-year-old with glasses, a loud laugh, and the tendency to burst into tears at any real or imagined insult - but if she is, she'll be temptingly vulnerable to anybody looking to hurt somebody.
I'm probably being too sensitive, not to mention borrowing trouble. Cook, who was a tall, skinny, shy kid with huge glasses and a dorktastic penchant for short shorts,* says that he didn't feel bullied or tortured-by-garden-variety-meanness at any point in school. There is also the school of thought that people are just crappy, and kids need to learn how to cope with it. Sometimes when Duchess describes the small cruelties of her day, I respond with more or less a shrug. People are crappy. We just are. I do believe it's theoretically useful to learn how to cope, because someday you may find yourself working for somebody who enjoys perpetrating garden-variety meanness on their coworkers.**
However, I was subjected as a kid to a substantial dose of garden-variety meanness,*** and the only coping skill I learned, as far as I can tell, was to retreat into my own head. This coping skill, it turns out, isn't terribly helpful for a healthy life, and it hasn't helped me handle meanness as an adult. So...yeah. Maybe instead of letting kids all develop their coping "skills" on their own, we should encourage them to identify and discourage garden-variety meanness. I don't know if it works, but wouldn't it be nice if it did?
Anyway, Duchess is fine. She's not joyfully devouring her life the way she had been doing, but she's still charging along with gusto. I think her coping skills may already be better than mine, for all that they involve a lot more crying.
*Oh, the photos.
**Or at least, I imagine this is possible. In theory.
*** I was short, fat, liked to read, and had stunted social skills. Either kids in my schools were bigger assholes than Cook's classmates, or his introvert's gift for listening to people (and making them feel heard) was more beneficial to his social life than he realizes. My class in middle school was so dysfunctional that we actually had a therapist (have I mentioned this was a private school in Connecticut?) come in to work with the whole class. The only thing I remember from the group therapy sessions was one girl telling me in front of everybody, as part of some kind of honesty exercise that was presumably supposed to be helpful, that she felt sorry for me because I dressed so badly.**** I also remember that I actually felt this to be a positive interaction, because hey, she felt sorry for me!
**** I have a long, noble history of dressing badly. My very best outfit, circa 1982, was a purple velour tracksuit, worn with a lavender t-shirt with white fringe across the chest, and it's all been downhill from there.
She's not being bullied. I don't think a lot of Official Bullying happens at her school. Mostly what happens, as far as I can tell based on my observations and reports from my very unreliable informant, is garden-variety power plays, the kind that a teacher might not notice, might not be able to easily identify the culprit, or might decide isn't worth the time to address. However, those can be really unpleasant, and hurtful. Duchess is thin-skinned and extremely concerned about her social reputation, and I am increasingly concerned that she is an inviting target for bullies of all stripes. It's very possible that she won't be the middle-schooler I imagine - a six-foot-tall thirteen-year-old with glasses, a loud laugh, and the tendency to burst into tears at any real or imagined insult - but if she is, she'll be temptingly vulnerable to anybody looking to hurt somebody.
I'm probably being too sensitive, not to mention borrowing trouble. Cook, who was a tall, skinny, shy kid with huge glasses and a dorktastic penchant for short shorts,* says that he didn't feel bullied or tortured-by-garden-variety-meanness at any point in school. There is also the school of thought that people are just crappy, and kids need to learn how to cope with it. Sometimes when Duchess describes the small cruelties of her day, I respond with more or less a shrug. People are crappy. We just are. I do believe it's theoretically useful to learn how to cope, because someday you may find yourself working for somebody who enjoys perpetrating garden-variety meanness on their coworkers.**
However, I was subjected as a kid to a substantial dose of garden-variety meanness,*** and the only coping skill I learned, as far as I can tell, was to retreat into my own head. This coping skill, it turns out, isn't terribly helpful for a healthy life, and it hasn't helped me handle meanness as an adult. So...yeah. Maybe instead of letting kids all develop their coping "skills" on their own, we should encourage them to identify and discourage garden-variety meanness. I don't know if it works, but wouldn't it be nice if it did?
Anyway, Duchess is fine. She's not joyfully devouring her life the way she had been doing, but she's still charging along with gusto. I think her coping skills may already be better than mine, for all that they involve a lot more crying.
*Oh, the photos.
**Or at least, I imagine this is possible. In theory.
*** I was short, fat, liked to read, and had stunted social skills. Either kids in my schools were bigger assholes than Cook's classmates, or his introvert's gift for listening to people (and making them feel heard) was more beneficial to his social life than he realizes. My class in middle school was so dysfunctional that we actually had a therapist (have I mentioned this was a private school in Connecticut?) come in to work with the whole class. The only thing I remember from the group therapy sessions was one girl telling me in front of everybody, as part of some kind of honesty exercise that was presumably supposed to be helpful, that she felt sorry for me because I dressed so badly.**** I also remember that I actually felt this to be a positive interaction, because hey, she felt sorry for me!
**** I have a long, noble history of dressing badly. My very best outfit, circa 1982, was a purple velour tracksuit, worn with a lavender t-shirt with white fringe across the chest, and it's all been downhill from there.
Comments
I wish, more than anything, that I could somehow give my kids the tools to avoid those same scars: not sure if social skills, thick skins, better schools, or better clothes (which I swear would have helped me) will do it. I am struggling with the notion that they will have to go through the pain and discomfort themselves. And that I can't save them from it at all. That's an uncomfortable parenting notion.
CM