the bruises from casual cruelty

I don’t even know that I want to write about this, not really. I don’t want to give it more weight than it deserves but it keeps cropping up in little ways, in little conversations, in little actions and in big thoughts apparently.

One evening about two weeks ago Giggles was not her usual exuberant self and was a little more in need of reassurance in that every where I turned in the evening, there she was. When I sat down she was almost burrowing in to my side. When we ate dinner, she pulled up close and was subdued. When we sat down for some TV time, she draped herself over me and snuggled in. None of these actions are so out of the ordinary, but there was intensity to it that gave me pause. I asked her if she was okay and she said fine. Giggles has her own time table on when she wants to talk about what. I’ve found the best approach is to ask the question once, let her know the door is open and wait for her to stroll through it. As usual, it didn’t take that long because my girl typically wants to talk about the mind stew she has simmering.

She had retreated to her room for a time but soon came to whisper in my ear that she wanted to talk with me. She led the way to my bedroom because it’s either her bed or mine that we lounge on to discuss what she’s been mulling throughout the day. The comfort of the bed seems to help ease the conversation and if she’s in need of a little physical comfort while chatting, she just cuddles in close. We’ve had some great conversations this way.

It seems there was an incident in one of her classes, as she walked by a small group of boys, one of them turned to her and told her to go away and that no one liked her, while they all laughed together at her expense. This pronouncement, and exhibit of boy rottenness, bothered her. Can’t say I blame her, the little cretins. Typical middle school boy nonsense I thought once the automatic Mom reaction of Who Dares Hurt Mah Babeh! had settled down. My girl, she’s also a bit of the Drama Queen, so after filtering through the indignation explanation, the real core issues surfaced - she was hurt and mad and confused. She was also having difficulty putting it all into perspective. She doesn't really interact with these boys and doesn't know why they said what they did. She's 12 1/2. Is there any perspective to have at that age? It's been so long I forget.

I asked her if she liked any of the boys and she made that eewww-Cooties! face that girls are so good at and emphatically said no. I asked her if she was friends with any of the boys and she said no. I asked her if she cared about the opinions these boys had on other things and she said no. And then I asked her if her answer to all of those questions was no, than it shouldn’t matter what they thought because those boys held no importance in her life.

She told me that she didn’t care what they said; she just didn’t understand why they had to be so mean.

Somehow I doubt the full truth of first part but I could swallow the consternation over casual cruelty. This isn’t bullying at its extreme, which is a big topic in schools right now, but it definitely falls into a category of meanness that casually plays out within the hallways of every school, every day, under all radar, despite the constant attempts to remind kids to treat others they way they wish to be treated. It’s a reminder that doesn’t seem to make a dent in the way kids act toward one another.

At an age when kids are trying to define themselves, this casual cruelty is rampant and often escalates to full scale bullying depending on the kids involved and the particular elements that set them apart. Differences, those that are cultural, religious, sexual and/or as simplistic as what part of town one resides, can be a catalyst that spurs meanness and bullying. None of these differences should give kids, let alone adults, the right to abuse another, especially given our wide open global awareness. It seems the larger the window on the world, the smaller the tolerance for difference and that just makes my heart hurt.

An independent spirit. That’s my daughter and that’s her difference. Her social milieu is outside the “popular” groups. She chooses her own dress style, she speaks her mind and doesn’t shy away from letting loose a ferocious belch when so inclined and has a general disdain for the herd-like mentality displayed by a majority of her classmates. These tendencies mark her as “different” in the eyes of the tweenage middle schoolers who are all about the comfort of conformity. And the reality is that those that walk along the fringes of different require a thicker skin as they navigate the school hallways. Because when a kid chooses not to conform, the difference takes others out of their comfort zone and they don’t know what to do with it, so they attack it.

We spoke about confidently handling this type of encounter. For me, confronting the boys, right then and there, if it happened again, would be the best way to handle it. By doing so, other kids would realize that she won’t stand back and let anyone push at her. I suggested that if they said it again, calmly looking back at them and retorting along the lines of, “that’s okay, I don’t like you either” would show they couldn’t intimidate her and maybe embarrass the boys a little, getting back some of what they gave. Also suggested was telling them that their pitiful attempt at getting her attention was a waste of time, but she didn’t seem to keen on that idea. We debated the merits of using “Really? That’s the best you can come up with? Try a little harder next time” as a response if the boys decided to be jerks again. She seemed to like that one. She was not as enthused as I was to the idea of asking, loudly, in front of the rest of the class, so everyone would hear her dis the pimply little morons, “if they really thought their opinion meant anything to her?” She was concerned the teacher would overhear and then she’d get in trouble. She hates getting in trouble with the teachers. Depends on the kind of trouble, I say.

By trying to minimize the import of the words spoken, I was trying to show her that by dismissing them she would not give these boys and their hurtful words power over her. I want her to look them in the eye and let them know that no matter what they say, their words are meaningless. But we all know better. Words hurt. No matter how self-confident kids want to feel at this age, they are really only learning who they are and being told you are not liked cuts little wounds in the heart and undermines that growing self-confidence in a thousand different ways. Will Giggles be scarred by this forever? No. Doesn't mean it won't leave some bruises on her psyche for a short time though.

Once she had spilled it all out and talked around all sides of it, she seemed settled and resigned to the fact that there will be instances like this again. She mentioned it again last night, told me she had relayed the story to a friend who casually shrugged it off with a “So?” and that boggled her mind. Why I’m not sure, but she was affronted that her friend wasn’t as outraged at their behavior as she had been, or maybe that her friend didn't show the level of solidarity that she was expecting. Drama Queen, my girl. The fact that she brought it up to her friend days later, and then again to me, made me realize that it still bugs her, that casual cruelty from others.

How to explain to a 12 year old the all too regular penchant to deliberately hurt another exhibited by people every day? I can’t because I really don’t get it myself. I try using the usual explanations– people are mean to others because they have low self-esteem, kids are often cruel because it makes them look tougher to their friends and they need that acceptance even if it means being a rotten shit, kids who are often uncertain of who they are choose to belittle those that are more self-aware as a defense. But who really knows? These kids could be subjected to that casual cruelty from their parents and accept as the norm and dish it out. Will we ever really know? We discussed each of these and she gets it, she really does because she is smart, and self-confident and unique.

But that uniqueness also leaves her vulnerable in the heart and head. All I can do is remind her of the beauty of who she is, inside and out, and that the unimportant words of a rotten 7th grader cannot diminish the power of who she is at the core. And that unique spirit will triumph in the end.