Twinkle is getting bullied at school. Someone decided she was a “weirdo” because she chose green beans instead of French fries with her hot lunch. For the last several school days the bully has coerced everyone else in her class to slide to the opposite side of their long lunch table, squishing together so as not to get too close to the green bean eater.
Her class has 20 boys and 6 girls. The five other girls had decided a few weeks ago that Twinkle doesn’t fit in with them, so she has been relegated to playing the “girl” parts of the boy games. Now with the boy calling her a green-bean lover she is completely alone.
The 1st graders at her elementary school should feel very lucky that it is her dad, not me, that takes her to school.
We are meeting with the school tomorrow, so Dave and I are preparing ourselves. Although we plan to take her out of the school entirely we need to find a solution while we work out how to pay for private education. Note to artists- start praying for children who will not require private school now, as you will never be able to afford doing something else for them. We want to be careful not to blame the teacher or put her on the defensive, but whenever we do that it feels like the language shifts to making Twinkle responsible for changing her own situation.
“We are concerned about her social interaction?” feels like a coded plea to tell us how we can change her to fit the mold of the classroom better. Considering she is “othered” for liking vegetables and not liking boys yet, I don’t want her to feel compelled to change herself for the sake of friendships that are based on acquired personality traits.
“How should we approach this bullying situation?” Again, it puts the onus on us when I think it falls squarely on the shoulders of the bullies.
What I want to say is this, “Twinkle is getting tortured for all of her personality traits that make her awesome, that we spent the first six years of her life cultivating. Tell those bullies to shut their ugly, hateful mouths already, ok? Take control of your classroom. You can’t make kids stop their hate, but you can stop them from spewing it while under your care.”
Blaming the victim starts young, my friends, and I will not allow my daughter to feel like she is the cause of her current situation. I plan to meditate before our meeting, using the visualization of a bear in its cave, ready to pounce but not enraged. I need to harness my momma bear enough for the teacher to feel like a partner in the solution, and not feel unjustly blamed for the poor behavior of her students. When did six-year-old children become so vicious?