Click here to subscribe today or Login.
There she was: my youngest, sitting by herself while her classmates swirled around her, fully engaged in their recess play. I had stopped into the school office on PTA business and noticed her as I walked to my car. My first instinct was to approach her, to ask her why she was sitting alone, but I stopped myself, realizing I shouldn’t interfere during the school day. Instead, I got in my car and watched. For a full five minutes she sat, looking at her hands in her lap while every other child from several classes played together in groups of varying sizes. Then the bell rang and it was over. What was going on here?
Lauren had always enjoyed time to herself but seemed to be well-liked and have friends too. Was this self-initiated?
When she got off the bus that day, my husband and I were all over it. The story that emerged was that a boy in her class had recently formed a club, and despite asking to be in it, she had been the only one who was denied.
“No, Mom, we’ve never had a problem before,” she explained. “I don’t know why he won’t let me in.”
“Can’t you just hang out with your friends, the nice ones you’ve had playdates with?” we asked.
“No, they’re in the club.”
When we asked how long this had been going on, she said she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had played with her on the playground.
We called the teacher and left a message. Was Lauren isolating herself in some way? What could we do?
Meanwhile, my husband went to pick up our older daughter from her horseback lesson. I heard the car door slam shut in the driveway and then the front door flung open. Dani stormed into the house. Her face was pale and redness rimmed her eyes, which were welled up with tears.
“What happened?” I asked her with alarm. “Did you fall off a horse? Did someone get bucked?” I had never seen her look like this.
“Give me the phone,” Dani demanded. “I want his number. I’m calling this kid right now.” Her voice quivered with anger. It took me a moment to realize what she was talking about. “Dad told me what’s going on with Lauren. I want to talk to this kid.”
Like most siblings, my children are not always the best of friends. In my perception, they fight with each other more often than not, so this fierce, protective loyalty came as a surprise.
We’ve had little experience with bullying and I tend to think that the term is overused. Up to a certain point, children need to learn how to navigate through difficult situations and deal with antagonistic people. When minor issues have arisen, my children have chosen to deal with them on their own, after discussing options at home. This felt different, though. I saw the Oprah episode on bullying. I know how bad it can get.
After I told Dani that, no, we weren’t calling this boy at home and that I was waiting for a call back from the teacher to get more information, she seemed to calm down. I warned her that she could end up in the principal’s office, one of her worst fears, if she did anything against the rules.
The kids went off to school the next day and we had a reassuring discussion with the teacher. When the girls got off the bus that afternoon, they had broad, almost euphoric smiles on both their faces.
“What?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
“Lauren introduced me to the boy this morning,” Dani reported. “And very nicely, I told him that if he didn’t stop excluding her, or anyone else, I would report him to the principal!”
“Yeah!” Lauren beamed. “And later on, he asked me to talk to my big sister, to ask her if she’d please stop looking at him like that!”