For the last two years I have been working on a book, Hindsight In-Sight, that chronicles the
mishaps, mistakes and just plain ol’ stupidity that occurred parenting two boys
as a young twenty and thirty something single parent who was simultaneously fighting
off a dragon of an ex and a set of grandparents determined to show me the error
of my ways. The book, as many do, has
gone through a myriad of changes and rewrites thanks to writing coach, Brooke
Warner, and her stupendous and enlightening suggestions and gentle
nudging. However, the essence of it
remains the same since the day that the idea was born; the book was and is a
testament to the old adage, “Do as I SAY and not as I DID.”
This past weekend, while working on a specific chapter about
bullying, my mind began to formulate a list of suggestions not only for me to
follow to keep Ila out of that kind of situation, but to help other parents
equip their own children. While writing,
an unusual feeling of shame began to envelope me and at first I couldn’t figure
it out. I thought perhaps it was the
shame that came with the ineptitude with which I handled Son1’s bully
experience. But I was pretty sure I had
worked those feeling all out of me with the initial writing of the chapter the
year before (thanks to a superb cheerleader that kept reminding me to ‘Do the
hard Work!’) Then I thought that perhaps
the shame came from the fact that Son2 has his own issues. Not with bullies but with BEING the
bully. However once again, I dismissed
that as being the origin of the shame knowing full well that THAT particular
problem had been covered thoroughly in intense therapy sessions with Dr. Speed
Dial. Nope…the shame, growing with every
word added to the suggestion list, was coming from somewhere else. And so as I often do with emotions I can’t
identify, I stopped what I was doing, sat still and quiet and posed the
question to myself. (I know. I know…I just lost a WHOLE bunch of readers
who clicked off the site shaking their heads about new age mumbo jumbo.) But—this technique works for me, and usually
it is the voice of Hindsight that speaks to me.
It was no different in this case.
Hindsight had the answer. It started as a whisper…a reminder of the
book’s idea that one should do as I say and not as I did. Then came the idea that as parents we strive
to do the opposite of that saying; in other words, we try to make sure our
actions are in line with the way we would like our children to act. And then, from this idea came the reason for
the shame.
When it came to bullying, I was NOT setting a good example
for my children. One of the things that
I had learned (really that Son1 had learned the hard way) was that the saying,
“you get more flies with honey” did NOT work with those who had a mean streak
or needed to feel a sense of power. I
had always taught both boys that if someone was mean to them that they continue
to smile and be pleasant because A. one should never give some maniacal meanie
the satisfaction of knowing they were getting to you and B. that perhaps if you
kept being nice they’d see the light. They’d
feel bad for the abuse thwarted upon you and stop out of the goodness of their
hearts, or at the very least let you know what it was that they didn’t like
about you. But like Son1 learned so many years back, that just DOESN’T
work.
And yet, and yet...even though Hindsight had taught me that
lesson so many years before, I had been playing out the “flies and honey”
scenario for months with some bullies of my own. I had not been living, acting, doing what it
was that I was writing about, what I wanted Ila to know and what so many other
parents needed to teach their own children.
Bullying unfortunately is pervasive in our society and
doesn’t stop when one happens to turn 18 years old. HECK it doesn’t seem to stop when one turns
thirty or forty or even fifty, and I was experiencing it all; the talking
behind my back, exclusionary tactics, villainizing my actions or lack of action
to justify their behavior, mean and harsh words said to others about me, the Eddie
Haskell smiles while I was in the vicinity but eye rolls and snickers when they
thought I wasn’t around. How did I
handle it? Shamefully, the same way I
told the boys to so long ago—just keep smiling…just keep smiling. How has THAT been working? Well, just about as well as it had worked for
Son1 so long ago. Instead of feeling bad
for continually kicking a girl who kept getting up with her hands and arms wide
open…the despotic behavior continued because, like Son1, I was an easy target
and one can’t ever count on all humans having good hearts. It is easy to get caught up in the “Let’s all
gang up on…” mentality. I have
regretfully done it myself to colleagues and acquaintances.
However, I realized that if I was going to talk the talk, I
had to walk the walk. In order to be a
different parent, it couldn’t just be in theory. It has to be an actuality. When I picture the adults I want my children
to be it means that I HAVE to be that adult.
Right now. Even if I wasn’t the
day before, the minute before, the second before. When it comes to the subject of bullying, I
want my children to end up being adults that refuse to join in a mob mentality
against one or two outcasts. And so…I
have to be the adult that refuses to join in the browbeating of others. And at the same time, if I expect that my
children will have enough pride to set clear boundaries against those who choose
to malign them, then I must do the same.
So instead of formulating the list, I am going to be its
guinea pig and DO the list. I will not
allow anyone to hurt me mentally (or physically, although that isn’t taking
place). If they do, I will not be an
easy target and pretend that it didn't take place. I will stand up and call the bullies
out. I will no longer walk away from
whispers that carry my name—I will demand that anything said about me will be
said to me. I will not be vilified so
that someone’s conscience will be clear only to be left in the dark about the
so called complaints that one may have about me. I will instead stand firm and demand that I
be treated respectfully or be left alone. As an adult, I do understand the nuances
of standing up for oneself. It doesn't
mean that I have to hate those who love to hate me. It doesn't mean that I am not able to work or
be around those who are constantly sizing me up for the next dis. It doesn't
mean that I have to be as unpleasant as they are. No.
What it means is that I will make it very clear to those around me on what kind of
behavior I will accept and what I will not accept when it comes to my dignity
and self-worth. This, of course, is exactly what I'd want for my own daughter.
There is a story that Oprah tells of Maya Angelou in which
during a dinner party at Maya’s house, someone in a very large crowd tells a
malevolent joke that impugned a specific group of people. The story goes that in the middle of the
party and from across the room, Maya doles out what Oprah calls a “skinning”
not allowing anyone around her to demean any person or group. After the skinning she promptly tells the
guest to leave. After telling the story,
Oprah asks Maya where that kind of bravery comes from. Maya’s answer was simple. She said, “You start out small.” So Mudders, while it may take us many many years to
become brave enough to stand up to bullies in that way, we must strive to act,
think and speak in a way that warns a bully that we are strong and will stand up
for what’s right. After all, we can do no
less than what we would expect each one of our children to do.
