To my son. Nuff said.

Broken Hearts

OK.  It’s official, I’m completely totally 100% over it.

My son goes to a private school.  I put him there thinking he would, in some measure, be safe, at least more so than in public school. He’s in the third grade.  He’s doing well, reads at almost 7^th grade level according to the standardized tests, is extremely creative, follows the rules, puts reasonable question  to authority,  gets along well with his teachers and classmates.

And he’s getting bullied.  Everyday.  Verbally and/or physically, pretty much every DAMN DAY.  This has been going on for years.  Zero tolerance they say. We’re working on a solution they say.  We have a plan they say.  Yeah, that’s why when I pick my son up some days; he’s on the verge of tears, tears that rain in a torrent as soon as he & I are safe in the car.

Yesterday, what resounded with me was “why won’t they keep us safe from him Mommy?”  (notice he asked ‘won’t’ not ‘can’t’) and “Why don’t they make him leave mommy?” and sadly- when I ask what the teachers do-“ I hate my teachers, they won’t do anything” 

Good questions, those are.

They are trying to do something, they say, they have a plan.  Big damn whoop.  The plan is about helping the bully.  What bullshit. What about what it’s doing to my son and the other kids that are being tortured? Everyone is so intent on helping the BULLY, that they are forgetting the damage he has inflicted and continues to inflict on his classmates. 

Forgetting that at night parents like me have to stay until their child falls asleep because he’s scared. 

Forgetting that at night, the bullying doesn’t stop, it revisits in dreams, the kind our kids wake up crying from.

Forgetting that parents like me are on overtime trying to compensate for the damage inflicted on burgeoning self-esteem, damage that will last a lifetime.

Forgetting that by not protecting, lifting up and cherishing the kids who are getting hurt, they exponentially add to the damage.

Forgetting that the bully getting all the ‘fix it’ attention is the wrong message.  There is no apparent consequence for him.  But the kids who are getting bullied get in trouble for ‘tattling’

Forgetting that this is the stuff kids are dying about.

All the positive reinforcement techniques in the world do not stop the message the bully is pounding into these children.  That they are losers, they are stupid, they are worthless.  The message gets through and it sticks. Compounded by all the ‘forgetting’.

And I’m beyond pissed off.

And I am grateful that my son trusts me and believes in me enough that he brings his hurts and sadness to me, and we work on it together.  But I can’t fix it, and that breaks my heart.

The Sand Hill Cranes

My son is 8.  He is rough, rowdy, goofy, serious, sweet, smart, totally all boy.  Wants to grow up and join the CIA to rid the world of bad guys.  Some have expressed that he is ‘obsessed’  (their word, not mine)with violence.  (Off topic side note, the ones who say this are the ones whose sons bully mine. Go figure) The ones who know him, know better.

My son tests himself and his emerging maleness by playing at swords and war, as boys have done since the dawn of the world. It is not obsession; he is readying himself to make a difference in an increasingly difficult world.  I do not shelter him from the craziness as much as other moms may, nor do I allow much exposure, in my view neither is fair. I tell him the truth in language he can understand.  He is safe and knows it, he also knows there are bad folks out there and only the brave and true of heart will stop it. He will be one of them. He is brave, empathetic, gentle, discerning and kind, above all he is kind.

We knew something was wrong when we saw these two sand hill cranes.  They were hanging out in the middle of the day in a tiny swale at my mother’s house.  One was down, seemingly resting; the other was pacing around the first, nervous, sitting, then pacing some more. 

These birds mate for life, their chicks stay with them until fully grown, they are beautiful.

Evan wanted to see what was going on, certain all was not well, he approached them very slowly, took almost 10 minutes to get the last few feet.  He moved gently, deliberately, talking to them all the while:

“Don’t worry”

“I won’t hurt you”

“Are you alright?”

“Just want to see if I can help you”

“I love you”

“Shhh, its ok, it’s just me, don’t worry”

This was an eight year olds litany of comfort to a wild animal.

He got very very close.  The one moved away, not too far, but as if to let Evan know he was trusted.  The other, stood, as Evan looked him/her over, He discovered a fresh wound, the right foot was missing, bleeding, painful to put weight on.

Animal control said to leave it for a day or so, was no doubt from an alligator, happens all the time, etc. etc. ad nauseum.

As Evan walked away from them, he said:

“Thank you for letting me get so close to check on you, we’ll be back to see how you are doing, remember that I love you.”

I only heard his conversation with them because I have Mommy hearing, they were private, quiet, meant only for him and the cranes.

The partner crane that had moved away now moved back to his mate and both watched Evan walk slowly and quietly away.  They felt my boys soul, like I do.

"We need to come back and check on them mommy"
"I know, baby, we will, tomorrow"
"Thank you Mommy"

And I am so grateful for that.