Earlier this week, Smoke reported to me that a girl in his class keeps on hugging him. Every time he sat down on the carpet for circle time she embraced him and wouldn’t let him go until the class had settled. Not only that, but this girl was chasing him on the playground at recess, and grabbing his shirt when she caught him so that he couldn’t get away. He held the edge of his own shirt to demonstrate, and pulled on it to reveal his lean, pale belly, his inability to move without stretching his shirt further and revealing more of his body. The more he talked about it, the more distressed he sounded.
“Did you tell her to stop?” I asked.
“She laughs at me when I tell her!” Smoke said. His voice broke around the edges.
I pulled a piece of paper off the kitchen table. It was a handout that Mrs. N had sent home about Kelso’s choices. It looked like this.
“Have you tried any of these choices?” I asked him, aware that I was an outsider to this new social landscape. I offered the page tentatively.
“Saying stop is one of the choices,” he explained, not even looking at the list. “Also I tried ignoring, and joining a new game, but she just follows me everywhere.”
“Do you want me to tell Mrs. N?” I asked him.
He thought about it for a moment, and decided he did.
Several years ago, I heard a public school teacher comment on how much time she spent in recent years simply answering emails from parents—parents who wanted to know why their kid got a 92 rather than a 98 on a spelling test, or parents demanding a rationale for the novel they were reading in Language Arts. I told myself I wouldn’t add to the burden; I wouldn’t be a parent emailer.
But then, in our orientation meeting with Mrs. N, she reassured us: “Please don’t ever hesitate to email me. Even if it seems like a little problem.”
I wasn’t sure what kind of problem this was. Certainly it seemed like the sort of thing kids typically did to each other, the sort of thing that thirty years ago kids would have worked out on their own. I remember epic boy vs. girl battles that happened at the very edge of the recess field, which was also the bottom of a hill, far away from any grown-up gaze. I remember a kid named Billy Duffy whose face was always stained with meat sauce, who had earned a reputation for kissing girls against their will. Playground problems weren’t teacher problems, and unless you were bleeding, the recess aides didn’t want to hear about it.
But it’s 2014, and as much as I worry about overprotecting my kids, I feel grateful that the system seems to care a little more. (Okay, a lot more.) Also, these days I read a lot about consent, and I brood over how to teach my sons to honor bodies and boundaries. So when a problem like this emerges, even if it’s a little one, I feel that there’s a lot at stake.
I mean, Smoke’s discomfort at having his shirt pulled or being hugged goes beyond annoyance. I could tell by his distress that he felt trapped. I also sensed that he, like me, wasn’t sure how much attention his situation warranted.
That night, awake in bed, I entertained the following thoughts.
- I felt some alignment with the girl who so badly wanted Smoke’s attention. I know how it feels to want a friend so badly. And I understood why she had chosen Smoke, who is quiet and kind and funny.
- I considered what it feels like to be physically trapped, and what a common feeling that was in childhood. Well-meaning grown-ups pinch your cheeks and kiss you with their bad breath. Bossy friends convince you to let them roll you up in blankets.
- I imagined Smoke, some years from now, chasing girls around the playground and lifting their skirts. Maybe some would see this as a little problem, but to me it would be a Big Problem.
I emailed Mrs. N before school the following morning. As we arrived two hours later, she approached us and squatted so she could talk to Smoke at his level. “I told [redacted] that she needs to leave you alone and save all of her hugs for her family at home.” Smoke’s eyes widened. “Will you please tell me if that didn’t solve the problem?” He nodded.
Every moment of Mrs. N’s time is precious. The line of kids was already moving toward the classroom, and she was already moving with them, but as she got farther and farther away she thanked me for letting her know, and then gave me the thumbs-up sign as she disappeared through the door.
I’m glad that it’s 2014. I’m glad that my son’s teacher cares about what happens on the playground.
Way to go! You really heard him when he told you about this situation. That us a gift he won’t soon forget. I’ll be curious to hear if it did solve the problem or not. – it brings up thoughts on bullying to me. I think that social interaction in schools has always been an issue, bullying and hurting other kids can be life altering for the kids on the receiving end. Better to nip it in the bud before it becomes true bullying and before smoke feels totally powerless. Way to go team!!! And yay for a great teacher! She sounds amazing!
He says it solved the hugging, etc., but that the girl keeps bugging him to play with her all the time. I told him that’s her right to ask him to play, but he can say no. There’s definitely plenty to navigate.
I am stalking you by the way. Haha. I stop mid activty to read your posts, often. Xo
🙂 That makes me happy.
This was a big issue, and Smoke was going to take something away from his experience with unwanted and upsetting hugs, and the feeling of powerlessness left in their wake. The only question was what would he take away from this situation? I think for Smoke, you and Mrs. N. reinforced that he is heard and his problems matter; therefore he probably won’t remember this situation years from now. Unattended boo boos cause so much more stress, and they take a lot longer to heal.
True–sometimes I wonder what problems he will remember when he grows up. It might be ones I can’t even see.
I really admire how all this played out. When I was a kid this kind of experience would have been chalked up to just kids being kids. I love how you honored Smoke’s feelings. The little girl’s intentions sounded innocent enough but still, his body, his boundaries. It sounds like everyone handled it gracefully so that no one was shamed or hurt in the process. Smoke’s teacher and you rock :0
Thanks for those kind words. Yeah, I love your point about no one being shamed. That’s so important–at any age, I guess, but especially with younger kids who still have not idea what the social expectations are. They’re all in this scary new world (school), trying to figure it out.
I agree that all three of you rock — Smoke, you, and the teacher.
I have a similar internal monologue about whether something going on with my kid is a big enough deal to bother the teacher about. “She has 21 other kids to keep track of” or “you don’t want to be That Parent,” the voice says.
But I agree that this stuff about bodies and consent is really important, and you want to be sure that Smoke is getting the message that his concerns about them are valid. Yay for you and his awesome teacher taking the issue seriously, handling the situation gracefully, and sending Smoke that message.
I think I’m coming to terms with the reality that I’m going to be “That Parent” sometimes. 😉
What a great little tool to think over choices for children.
I’m glad you’ve got that tool. And I’m glad your son has such a great teacher. And a great mom!
What a mindful parent you are! And Smoke’s teacher sounds wonderful too. And Smoke of course 🙂
Thank you! Mrs. N really comes through for us.