scribblechic

In an empty classroom, with only a teacher and myself as witnesses, my son approached a classmate and inquired, “Why do you treat me differently when other people are around?”  There was no anger in his tone, but confusion and hurt in his large, unblinking eyes.  Looking at the boys I touched my son’s shoulder and stepped just outside the room giving him a moment to receive whatever answer the boy offered; my absence inviting honesty in a neutral space.

This is a familiar heartache; my son seeking acknowledgment among his peers.  I recall a moment when he was younger; smiling and eager he raced toward his Kindergarten classmates, a tangle of arms dramatically high fiving.  My son reached the boys, arm raised overhead, only to be greeted by their backs.  Confused, he lifted one boy’s arm high demonstrating the greeting they saved for one another, but could not share with him.  The boy’s arm fell heavily to his side and my son’s smile fell from his face.  As his classmates poured into the school, my son remained rooted to the sidewalk, head down.  I waited beside him, until he was ready to look up.  It was my son’s first rejection, a moment of childhood unkindness that could no more be explained than it could be erased.

Years later, pausing at the threshold of another classroom, I held my breath and waited perched to protect.  Seconds felt like an eternity and then my son, standing tall and serene emerged.  As we walked to my car, I turned to my son and asked if he wanted to share the child’s answer with me. He shrugged slightly and told me the boy said he “didn’t know why”.  There was no clear explanation, but there was something more: self-respect.  My son in the sub-context of a sole question sought honesty and fairness.

I stepped to the side and my son stepped forward; each of us trusting he was strong enough to embrace a challenge and accept the outcome.  I offered him faith and gave me a beautiful reason to believe.  We cannot make everyone like us, but we can insist others treat us with respect.