When our youngest son was learning to walk he did so by holding his arms high above his head and clinching his chubby sticky fists around the fingers of our hands. Many a night we rubbed our lower backs wondering when he would walk on his own and we would once again stand upright instead of bent over the top of his toddling blond head. It was a glorious day when he finally took off on his own wobbly jaunt across the living room floor—but he continued to walk for months with his arms high above his head, holding on to those imaginary fingers.
But even that sunny memory can’t lift my heavy heart on this morning. I just learned of a bullying incident at my son’s middle school yesterday. It was a bad one and has apparently been ongoing for some time. The boy involved couldn’t be a sweeter boy. Kind, gentle, smart, soft-spoken, he’s the perfect target for a bully. He could easily be my son. That’s what makes it so hard to hear about and so disturbing that I couldn’t sleep last night.
As a parent you spend your entire life trying to protect your child from any bad experiences. We don’t even allow our kids to watch PG-13 movies most of the time. And yet, this is another reminder that in life there is no way to shelter them from every bad thing. And I know that inevitably they will face these situations where the real hard parts of life will be front and center for them.
I have been searching my heart to try and figure out how I would react in a similar situation if my son were in those shoes. I feel so angry that I am certain I would be challenged to have a civil conversation with school officials. Even though I know they can’t be everywhere at all times, I expect each child to be safe from these kinds of attacks at school. And yet, I remember. I know how kids operate, how they manipulate the system, how they know when and where they will get away with breaking the established rules. If you are determined enough, you will find your time to bully.
I told my son, the only way as a parent I know how to help is through him, through his brain, his eyes, his ears, his heart. I told him, that if ever this boy needs a pal and someone in his corner it’s now. That’s how we parents can help each other become a stronger village. I will do my best to help protect your child if you help protect mine. I will let you know when I see misbehavior if you will do the same. I will educate my son about fairness, compassion, and accepting differences and I am relying on you to do that too.
We are going about the business of trying to rally support for another kid who doesn’t deserve to but may indeed be facing one of the biggest challenges of his young life, the best way we know how.
And so I step carefully along the path of this new reality as close to my son’s side as I can be from this far away. And I am getting the first glimpse of my 12 year old as a young man, learning to walk on his own without those two hands to grab a hold of at the slightest falter. And I see now that the ache I felt all those years ago is still with me on this new walk, it’s just migrated from my back to my heart and I see once again that letting go of those sticky little fists is never easy.
