scribblechic

My son, head bowed, told me he was bullied… again.  I ran through my initial emergency parenting protocol asking: Are you okay? Did you tell an adult? What happened?  My heart in my throat I went through the motions of my end of school day routine while my son’s words replayed in my mind.

There is a small window of time between greeting my son at the end of his school day and collecting my daughter from hers.  As I walked toward my daughter’s school my mind was riddled with questions.  What now? Do I need more details? Who do I call? Do I wait for Monday?

The voice that makes me uncomfortable and holds me accountable was loud, casting away doubt and hesitation.  I gathered my daughter from school, settled her at home with my husband, and then drove my son back to school.

Today is Friday and I had little hope that the school staff would greet me an hour after school had dismissed for the weekend, but they did.  More importantly, they listened.  I stood present as a witness for my son. I try to be my children’s advocate, but today I was humbled by my son’s fortitude.

Leaving the school my son tossed an arm around me and the same voice that screams when something is wrong, whispered that we will be alright.  I write this to mark our family’s journey and to acknowledge my son’s strength.

Tagged: Advocate, Children, Strength