Safe and Kind Kids

We were watching Zombies 2 when the lesson ensued. Really, we were. If you're not familiar, Zombies and Zombies 2 are Disney movie musicals about high school life where humans, zombies and now werewolves live together. Our girls love them, the messages are positive, and the music is toe-tapping, light-rapping, poppy-smooth, cheerleading and monster-movie fun. Yes, cheerleading.

There's a part where Zed, one of main characters and a zombie, runs for student body president so he can change the rules and take the girl he likes to the prom (monsters can't go to the prom). The person he's running against, the popular cheer captain named Bucky, is quite the narcissist and doesn't care for the zombies; he only cares about himself.

They prepare to have a presidential debate, but the campaign posters hanging in the room have been altered. Zed's have been changed to make him look like a monster. You see, the zombies turn into real brain-eating zombies if they don't wear their electronic bracelets that keep their inner monster contained. So, the posters look like the zombie Zed is without the bracelet on, which freaks the humans out. Yes, a cheer captain named Bucky did it with the help of his popular human entourage.

"Wow, that was mean," I said to Beatrice and Bryce.

"I know," Bea said.

"That happened to me in high school," I said.

"Really? What happened?"

I told them that when I was in high school, I ran for student body president. One day when I arrived at school, there was a huge banner hanging from the second floor of one of the main buildings right in the middle of campus. The banner read something like "Kevin Grossman for President -- ha, ha, ha -- what a joke." Lots of ha, ha's that I remember, actually.

"They were teasing me, but it wasn't very nice."

"Did you cry?" Bryce asked. My family knows I'm a cryer.

"No, but it made me feel bad."

"That's mean," Bea said.

Yes, it was, I thought. I was a nice enough guy in high school. Kids from all kinds of backgrounds liked me and I also liked to be liked. Who doesn't? It also doesn't mean I didn't make mistakes with friends and hurt their feelings, and ex-girlfriend feelings, since they were the ones who made and hung up the banner at school that day. The banner was only up until school started that morning, but it's something I've never forgotten.

Our family proceeded to finish the movie. Our girls seem to get it, though -- that there's a difference between inclusive teasing for fun and intentional teasing to taunt -- and a lot of gray in between (that they'll have experience for themselves throughout teenage-land and beyond). They also have a Kidpower education, to throw hurtful words away, to walk away from teasing to stay safe and sane, and get help if needed.

According to one large study, the following percentages of middle schools students had experienced these various types of bullying: name calling (44.2 %); teasing (43.3 %); spreading rumors or lies (36.3%); pushing or shoving (32.4%); hitting, slapping, or kicking (29.2%); leaving out (28.5%); threatening (27.4%); stealing belongings (27.3%); sexual comments or gestures (23.7%); e-mail or blogging (9.9%).

And Beatrice starts middle school this fall. Mercy me.

Research indicates that persistent bullying can lead to or worsen feelings of isolation, rejection, exclusion, and despair, as well as depression and anxiety, which can contribute to suicidal behavior.

Bullying sucks. And it's a slippery slope to go from inclusive teasing for fun, to intentional teasing to taunt, and to bully for control and power and to intentionally hurt. This starts when we're young and extends into adulthood, the workplace, and all facets of life. Saying it's okay to say whatever you're thinking or feeling when you're thinking or feeling it, especially when it degrades someone else or a group of people you don't like or agree with, only empowers and emboldens bullying further. Adding that we need to just toughen up and deal with it when bullying happens doesn't help either.

Protecting ourselves by not letting those words or actions affect us (throwing them away and/or telling the perpetrators to stop and/or getting help) is a much more appropriate way to handle them. And no, toughing up to just deal with it and/or punching back are not the same things. Raising safe and kind kids is where it starts for zombies, werewolves and humans alike.

For the Adults in Charge

"Time after time we lose sight of the way; our causes can't see their effects."

—Rush, Natural Science

It's never okay, even if it's directed at a pet rabbit. I heard it again from upstairs and cringed.

"You're a stupid bunny!"

That word – stupid, or iterations of it like dumb or idiot or brainless – is never okay when they're used to tease or demean, even if the context is somewhat playful, because that word can be objectifying, labeling, and even threatening because of its usual negative context.

We're cutting someone or something else down by using words like that. There's no mistake: it's quite intentional when we say, "You're stupid." Even from the mouths of babes, which has been a recent problem we've been working on in our house.

Both our girls have been using the word too frequently, and when they started to call us "stupid", although they assumed their context was teasing, it was not okay. At all.

"You're a stupid bunny!"

"Bryce," I called down the stairs, "please stop using that word. We don't call people or things stupid. Use another word, like silly bunny, or don't use another word at all. Thank you."

"Okay.”

A minute later. "You’re a silly bunny!"

Obviously picked up at school from other kids using it, because even in my grumpiest Daddy Goat gruffness, I would never use words like that to describe either girl, or anything they do, poor childhood choices and all.

I can't say the same for when the Mama (what I lovingly call my wife) and I are talking about other adults and/or the world's state of affairs. I hope we've limited the use of any similar sentiment during calm or heated discussions when the girls are within earshot.

We're all works in progress, and the Mama and I are no exception to incremental growth. We work hard to keep each other honest and free from saying things that are never okay about attacking others, again no matter the context. Since the girls have been using the word way too much, we're all over it each and every time, reminding them not to call others stupid and to use other words that don't hurt – or nothing at all.

We're all about the Kidpower in our house, and if our children are calling someone by a hateful and hurtful name, and it's not okay with the adults in charge (us, their teachers, etc.), then it's never okay.

But what about if it is okay with the adults in charge? What about those in leadership positions including your immediate family, and/or those that work in the public or private sector and have a responsibility to their students, or their constituents, or their workforce, or their volunteers?

What if the adults in charge make it okay, including the current President of the United States? Where in public forums online or in person, we call each other losers or dummies or dumbshits or fuckups or faggots or fascists or libtards or c-words or worse?

What then? Do we just scrap this whole thing we call empathic humanity for being able to say any friggin' thing we want because we think we’re better, or we don’t agree or like something or someone else?

Absolutely not.

Does it make us weak when we cry foul at those using words that attack us and cut us down?

Absolutely not.

I believe it actually makes us weaker when we can't have civil discourse around dissenting opinions, even if it ends in stalemate; and when we just can't be nice and call each other hateful names because we think we're better, and that it's funny and we want to intentionally hurt.

Unfortunately, our emotional trigger fingers get itchy really quick these days and we overreact and underwhelm. Good God, there are also way too many people today who revel in being bad to each other's good, who respond positively to the negative celebrity of it all.

And for those of you today who say, "Wow, everybody's so sensitive; we can't say or do anything anymore," what you really mean is, "Wow, we can't get away with saying or doing anything we want any more."

Our children don't miss a beat when it comes to modeling our language and behavior. It's time for the adults in charge to continue to call out the other adults in charge to clean up their offensive acts and mouths. Being good to each other shouldn't feel so stupid bad.

Does anyone have a hurt or hurt feelings?

“Just don't grow up so fast
You don't want to know what I know yet
Maybe on paper it looks better way up here
Don't you hurry, try to take it slow
You will get there before you know it
Ain't just the bad times, the good times too shall pass
So don't grow up so fast…”

—Train


And so it begins, innocent as it was. One of Beatrice's friends and classmates smirked when she heard her last name.

"Your name is gross?"

"No, it's Grossman."

Her friend laughed. And then they both moved on to other little girl playtime. Beatrice didn't get it; she was literally all about her last name and how to say it, not knowing what "gross" meant. Yet. We worry because Beatrice may always be more naive than her classmates, and the eventual fallout to come once she realizes that someone is really trying to hurt her could be devastating.

Again, this time it was innocent enough, but the ramifications of future hurt feelings are more and more evident as she, and her little sister, get older.

Yes, that's life when we're growing up, and they'll need to go through the hurt and the happy, the sporadic bad times and the sometimes fleeting good, no matter how much we want to protect them. Yes, they'll have to learn how to be resilient, to adapt and to overcome.

We're still on the front end of awareness, of them flailing about because someone was purposely being mean to them, supposed friend or not. But that'll come soon enough. It always does.

In the meantime, let the children play, right? Hey, the doctor is in anyway. Funny how what we grew up with is new again to our girls. A Charlie Brown Christmas has become a big hit in our house, and although the girls only have a vague awareness of how Charlie Brown is treated, they got it enough to know how Dr. Lucy was trying to help Charlie Brown. Kind of.

Does anyone have a hurt or hurt feelings? Dr. Bryce is in.

The Why's of Differences and Tolerance

A little teasing I get, and I got my share growing up all the way into elder adulthood where I'm at today. I doled out a little myself. Sometimes the teasing was palatable and I'd laugh along, and sometimes it wasn't even close.

Through it all, I survived, and those I teased survived. Never in a million years did I bully verbally or physically to the point of wanting to hurt someone purposely and spitefully because of (fill in the blank). Pushed the teasing on occasion, yes. Bullying, no.

I'll admit that my instigated teasing over the years included pathetic "judgey" reasons I'd rather not relive, and the older you get, the most judgey it can become. However, when you're in the toddler years, differences aren't necessarily poked and prodded from spite, just poked and prodded because of the differences.

For example, Beatrice struggles with loud noises and still struggles with the inability to filter and process quickly. It can overwhelm her sometimes and that's when she plugs her ears and wants to bolt. Recently at school there have been a couple of times when loud noises have bothered Bea and she plugs her ears, and then a Pre-K classmate tries to pull her fingers out and tell her that nothing's wrong.

Because of the difference and the newness, they don't understand why she does it. The reaction is more about fear of the difference than the reason why. Kids want their normal and try to normalize their world accordingly. (Adults do this too of course, but we're just so much more messy and violent about it.)

Contrast that with the recent bullying incident of a 9-year-old North Carolina boy who was physically and verbally attacked by classmates after he brought a “My Little Pony” lunch bag to school. I'm still trying to digest this one, especially the way the school reacted to the little boy by banning him from bringing the lunch bag back to school. Although it does matter to me what they did or didn't do to those who were accused of bullying him, the school's response to the victim via what was published in the media was irresponsible and cowardly.

The boy's mother sums it up nicely for me (and thousands of others I'm sure):

“Saying a lunchbox is a trigger for bullying is like saying a short skirt is a trigger for rape. It’s flawed logic; it doesn’t make any sense.” 

Amen. And don't give me any bullshit about gender-appropriateness. I've had about enough of that. Good God it was just a "My Little Pony" lunch bag, something that represents friendship and sharing. 

Because we have two daughters though, the above flawed logic still isn't lost on me or the Mama. If this logic were eventually applied to Beatrice for example, with an extreme example being they'd remove her from the classroom and her classmates each time she plugged her ears under duress, you can be damn sure we're going to cause a reasonably responsible ruckus, but a ruckus nonetheless. Especially if she's bullied because of it. The same with Bryce and her glasses.

Again, I understand there's a difference between teasing and bullying, but when it's blatant bullying just "because," then it must be dealt with directly with all parties coming to a baseline understanding of the why's of differences and tolerance, not the "why nots?" of bullying and hate.

It's irresponsible and cowardice otherwise. No exceptions, Kids. None.

"It does not make any sense."

Rock on my little Beatrice. Rock on.

To Be Back Here Again

They laughed and decorated their pumpkins. A picture perfect Fall affair.

Beatrice said, “An-an-an-an-and I’m making this for Nonna.”

Her classmates and her sister Bryce sitting around her at the table kept laughing and decorating. An older boy sitting across from her, no more than eight or nine, smiled at her. 

Such a sweet moment, I thought. I took a few pictures. It was the Harvest Festival fundraiser for Bridges to Kinder, the preschool where both Bea and Bryce attend.

“Buh-buh-buh-buh-but I want the gold pen now for my pumpkin,” Beatrice said. 

Actually she stuttered a little. A vestige of her processing and speech delays and a work-in-progress with therapy, Beatrice stutters the beginning of sentences sometimes as a way to get her thoughts in order. It’s like saying, “Wait a second and I’ll tell you want I want to tell you.”

I handed her the gold pen and then the older boy did something I did not expect. He made fun of her stutter.

“Buh-buh-buh-buh I wanna a gold pen!”

The mocking face, the animated dance, the shrill inflection of his words — I remembered it well, being a giver and a taker as a child. Christ, sometimes as an adult. To date I hadn't ever considered this would happen; I had kept myself in the dark to this painful part of growing up.

Then her classmate and friend sitting next to her followed suit, although it was obvious he was unsure of why he did, and his taunt faded quickly with the uncomfortable confusion etched in is teasing echo.

I waited, not wanting to overreact. Bea seemed like she didn’t catch the sarcasm at all. Completely oblivious. Thank God, I thought. This time. Everyone at the table went on decorating and laughing as they had before, and yet I still wanted to say something. I fought it like trying to suppress a cough itching it’s way up an infected lung.

You little shit, I thought. You’re lucky she didn’t understand. A father’s overreaction to be sure, especially in the context I witnessed, but still.

But someday she will, and neither the Mama or me will be able to fend off the teasing, the bullying and other forms of verbal abuse, the unavoidable rites of passage. And we shouldn’t really, because Beatrice will have to learn how to deal with it, how to defend herself when necessary, and when to deflect, reject and accept. We’ll help her and Bryce both, encouraging the most healthy responses and defense mechanisms they can develop, and letting them figure out the rest, just as we did ourselves. Just as we all have done.

My flash of defensive anger woke me up to the fact that their journeys have only just begun. Kindergarten starts next year for Beatrice, and Byrce will start in a couple of years. To be back here with them again, to experience grade school to high school to college again — with them and through them — is quite the surreal sensation.

And while much of the teasing they’ll experience and even dish out will hopefully be harmless and roll of them and others, teasing unfortunately is a gateway drug to bullying and beyond. The beyond being things unthinkable, which is why coming back from my latest business trip and bought two bracelets by artist Julie Marie Chavez at the Life Is Good store. Julie's mission is to help some of today's most important charities: 25% of the gross bracelet proceeds going to support V-Day, a global activist movement to end violence against women and girls. This of course prompted me to get back to daddy writing and evangelizing for the better again.

Because I love you, girls. Simple as that.