By Amanda from HushAmanda.com
It’s a hot, Friday afternoon and my mom and I have decided to take Conner and Chase to a playground across from a local private primary school near her home. We arrive to find the place completely cleared out, a huge score in my book so that my children can have full reign. I breathe the sigh of relief that says “yes! I won’t be yelling at 8-year-olds that cut off my 2.5-year-old in the Slide Line!”
Within 5 minutes, 2 small buses from a the private school across the street’s Day Camp pull up. Grumble.
Children flee to the picnic area and begin lunch time, and since the children were at least 7 and up, I was relieved they were having lunch 80 feet from the playground area.
Then, another bus pulls up, apparently full of already-fed children, and they flood the playground. Within minutes, 4-5 boys, all around 7-years-old begin picking on Conner and Chase. They would get in my children’s faces, call them names, stupidly point to their bums and make pretend farting noises.
Conner, at first, had a face that simply read “this is mean”. He was a little shocked, and a bit sad. Why would someone he doesn’t know surround him and his little brother and start making fun of them? (They had my boys circled and up against a wall)
Then, the boys left. I watched them, listened to them say things like “now let’s do this and call them that!”, and they’d come back to find Conner and Chase, surround them again, and begin their taunting.
Conner cowered a bit, but stood protectively in front of Chase, and kept trying to introduce himself and his “brovur” (brother). After the 3rd round of this taunting/run away/come back/be mean from these boys, Conner assumed it was all a game and ran around (or away) from them. But each time, they’d find Conner and Chase. By this time I was fed up, not only with the way these boys were treating my children, but also by the fact that not a single teacher/instructor/employee was on or even near this playground. The 3 that came with the group were huddled together, under the shade of the picnic area, a good ways away.
And on that unsupervised playground, a group of young girls started to wander into the parking lot and the adjacent wooded area. Thus beginning a “steaming from the ears moment” on my behalf.
I marched my happy little ass up to the picnic area, looked right at these teenagers and said “You have not one single person watching those children over there. You can’t see them sneaking into the woods, into the parking lots, or mistreating one another. What do you think their parents would think if they saw this?”
Immediately, 1 employee began hauling butt across the field to the children’s area, calling back the group of wandering girls. The other two separated, a boy and a girl, put down their cell phones, and I watched as the girl gave the “who the hell is this crazy woman” eyes at her co-worker.
“I don’t believe you have any place to make eyes at me. You are failing at your job right now and putting the safety of these children in danger. Fix it.”
And I left.
I marched back to the playground and found the little punks children who’d teased my boys, got on their level and said “You and your friends were calling my son and his brother names. What you don’t understand is that words hurt people, they are mean. You hurt Conner by saying mean things. Do you understand that words do hurt others?”
“Sorry” he quietly whimpered as he hung his head and scuffled off to find Conner.
Another boy said sorry as well.
“Don’t apologize to me, say you are sorry to him and from now on think about how your words could hurt someone else”
Then two more boys, involved in the matter, came to tell me they had nothing to do with it. I looked in their eyes and said “Yes. You were. Admit that and say you are sorry.”
So they did.
And we left.
I don’t know that they learned anything from the experience, but I sure did.
There’s a difference between letting a child “handle it on his/her own” and stepping in to correct another child’s unacceptable (and repetitive) bad behavior. In this situation, I’m referring to bullying. There are two types of parenting methods here, in my opinion.
The first being to say “this is just children being children”. That speaking up for Conner was not letting him handle the situation on his own and that he has to learn to do so. I completely agree here, and I must state that I let Conner “handle” it for about 15 minutes. There will be plenty of times I am not there and he will have to deal with a situation and those are the times he will gain more self-esteem. Today’s lesson wasn’t about that, it was about learning the power of words.
However, I suggest this method to every parent that ever had to experience verbal bullying towards their child (or even them self at some point in their life). Correct the problem. If we arm our children with the knowledge that words ARE powerful, that words DO hurt, then we stop the problem before it starts.
We can teach the would-be bullies that harmful words aren’t ok. That harassment is never an acceptable form of “entertainment”. For those children we see in our playgroups, in our neighborhoods, or even to those parents who suspect one of their children bully others – take them aside and teach them why this is not acceptable. The worst mistake any parent could make would be to laugh this off as having a “popular” child. That he or she has “followers”. Question if they are using their friends to harass other children. Teach them the old adage that you attract more flies with honey.
We can teach our children that those who use their words to hurt others are the ones at a loss. That they can stand up and point out how harmful taunting and teasing can be. In a way, it’s our turn as parents to make a change. One that could send a ripple through society – one that could virtually end children harassing other children, then teens harassing other teens, and adults harassing other adults.
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After situating everyone in the car, before we left the parking lot, I turned to Conner and told him that sometimes, mean people say mean things and not to let those things hurt him. Some people aren’t nice, and those people are the ones that are missing out on being his friend.
Sticks and stones may break bones, but words can scar forever.
About Amanda:
My name is Amanda and my last name is hardly pronounceable. I’m currently 25 and the mother of 2 half-breed monkey/gorilla hybrids wonderfully rowdy boys (under 5), blogging LIVE! from a city somewhere in Alabama… I have the personality of a 6′6″ man trapped in a 4′10.5″ body. I’m loud, sometimes bitchy, occasionally moody, disorganized yet incredibly passionate and a total goofball. My friends just think I’m odd and that’s fine by me.
You can read more from Amanda over at hush, amanda and you can follow her on twitter @hushamanda
