The Injustice of it All

There is just something about walking down the high school hallway and spotting my child happily skipping down the way with her buddy Jake.  That happy face makes up for my bratty last hour class.

And then there is something about seeing her with head down, that small body trudging as if the world is hers to carry. My heart sinks and something catches in my throat. That was today.  As soon as she spotted me, those big blue eyes got bigger and wetter and the chin wobbled a bit.  She has some trouble with some boys knocking her around, but today was worse.  Her feelings had been trampled and abused.

I should say that Bell's social skills are lacking.  We have few friends with children.  She plays with us. She can tell you about scarab beetles and Osiris or the life cycle of a butterfly or how the moon was created,  but she isn't really good with other kids.  Jack and I were odd ducks as kids . . . still are . . . so we aren't sure what to tell her.  Jack didn't mind being a loner.  I did mind, but I never figured out the trick to it all.  I think we are just programmed to fit into Davis Hall and not the rest of the world.  Mostly, she lets the coldness roll off, ignores the turned backs, and just plays on the fringe of what ever group gives in that day.

Today, some adult was handing out candy in her building.  She tried to join the other kids, but some of the other teachers' kids wouldn't let her.  Maybe there was a reason that those kids got candy.  Maybe it was a prize for a good grade.  What is certain is she felt rejected.

I cannot fix all the world and make it nice.  I can intervene some, but I would not let her grow if I fought her battles.  Instead, we talk about standing up for ourselves when boys push us around.  We talk about forgiveness when we are rejected.  We talk about how doing our own thing is cool.  In reality, it is hard to find the balance of independence and not caring what the world thinks, of listening to Whitman, Emerson, and Thoreau.  We balance that with walking in love and making sure that we are the ones who do no harm.

We will learn how to make it. Things might get easier in high school when she can get in Ag or GT, do speech and drama . . . Find out that there are lots of weird kids out there.  But today, all I had to offer was the comfort and safety of my arms.