Sticks and Stones
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me!”
Yeah. Any kid who has ever been subjected to some serious teasing knows that that is a load of crap. Names hurt. And while they won’t break your bones, they can break your spirit.
Sabrina is normally a child who sparkles. Her eyes shine, she has a ready grin, and she positively bounces with the excitement of being alive. Lately, though, she walks slowly, with her head down. The isolation is taking its toll on her. Plus, it seems that Heather’s stepped things up by adding teasing to the mix. Now, in addtion to whispers of “crybaby,” there are taunts of “pipsqueak” and mocking comments about the size of her shoes.
Yesterday she asked if we could move so that she wouldn’t have to go to this school anymore. I won’t say I haven’t considered it as an option. In fact, I’d spent some time online checking out real estate in other school districts just the other day. But having my resistant to change, unwilling to live more than walking distance from her grandparents, daughter ask if we could flee from Heather brought home to me just how bad this has gotten. It also made me realize that moving was not the answer. Sure, it would take Diva Girl out of this girl’s range, but there are always going to be Heathers; I could move her, but there’s on guarantee that she wouldn’t encounter another one at her new school. And it’s a given that this one would simply pick a new target and continue along her merry way. Because that’s what Heathers do. Unless we make a stand and put an end to them once and for all.
So I made an appointment with the principal. Given the unsatisfactory response I’ve had from the teacher, I was a little nervous about this meeting. But I’ve always been impressed by the school culture this principal has created, and we’ve always had a good working relationship in the past. Plus, our principal is a woman, and I was counting on the fact that she too was once a little girl on the playground would mean that she would understand what I was talking about.
Unlike Mr. G, the principal knew exactly what I was talking about. She listened to my concerns, agreed with me that it was a classic case of girl bullying, and promised to work with me to put an end to it. When I brought my concerns to the teacher, I felt condescended to and dismissed; in my meeting with the principal, I felt acknowledged and supported. The two meetings couldn’t have been more different. From taking the problem seriously, to exploring possible reasons why Heather continues to target Sabrina (reasons that didn’t focus on blaming the victim), to brainstorming possible solutions, the principal couldn’t have been more helpful.
I’ve always had a lot of respect for this woman. She wears her authority gently, but with an unshakeable confidence. She has an expectation for “her” school, and is willing to put in the effort to foster the positive environment of her vision. She’s the kind of principal the primary kids hug and the intermediate kids respect. She’s also incredibly down to earth, as evidenced by her advice for how to deal with the teasing: No airy fairy recommendations to rise above it all and turn the other cheek here. Oh no. Her advice? Show Diva Girl how to give as good as she gets. Teach her a couple of replies that will stop Heather and her cronies cold the next time they decide to start mocking her size. She truly is a wise woman.
So, tomorrow when Heather, who wears a ladies size 3, comments on Diva Girl’s child size 11 shoes, my girl is going to look her in the eye and respond, “You know, I’d rather be Cinderella than the ugly stepsister.” I sort of wish I could be there to see it.