Revisiting the subject of bullying

You might not have heard the name Tom Daley before. Especially if you are neither British nor interested in the sport of diving. So, a little background.

Tom was selected for the British olympic squad and competed in Beijing. Team GB did not fare very well, but Daley was quite philosophical about it, in spite of the hail of criticism that inevitably followed.

Something he was less able to overcome was bullying at school. Daley spoke out about his situation and the whole country was aware of the seriousness of it. Eventually things got so bad that he felt forced to change schools. Sadly, this is something we see more and more of - that the victim winds up having to change schools because 'the system' is powerless to take effective action against the perpetrators.

Daley recently won gold in the individual event in Fort Lauderdale. Hopefully that will silence some of his critics.

I am pleased that Daley's profile, coupled with his willingness to speak out, has shone a spotlight on this problem. My sons' head teacher is of the view that bullying is a universal problem, that there isn't a school in the world which is free of it. This is not to say that she condones it. Quite the contrary. But she recognises how common it is.

And of course, most kids aren't like Tom Daley. They don't have his profile. The country's press doesn't howl in outrage when they are bullied. So they may feel as if there is no-one to whom they can turn.

My own sons both begged me not to take up the matter with the school authorities, believing that this would only make matters worse. I overrode one of them... and proved him right. Things did get worse. Then my husband stepped in and pushed a little harder. We hope that we might have begun to see the light at the end of the tunnel of torment.

Yes, bullying probably is in every school. It is certainly in many workplaces. And it takes a variety of forms. But that doesn't make it right. We shouldn't put up with it.

Now just hang on a second...

I promise not to become a one-trick pony, going on and on about bullying in general and my son's (in fact both sons') experience of it in particular. However, there is something I need to get off my chest.

I have received a lot of support via Twitter, Facebook and email regarding the nightmare that is my son's life at the moment. For this I am deeply grateful.

On Twitter, I attracted the attention of Bullying UK, who sent me an email, giving me a list of escalation steps we can take, such as putting things in writing, going to the board of governors, then to the LEA, involving the police if appropriate, etc. All very useful, practical stuff. And it is good to feel that we have support in this. But there was one section in the email which jumped out at me:

See if your son can invite other boys home so that he has the chance to make new friends, once he has other people to go around with at school the bullies may keep their distance.

Maybe I'm reading more into it than is really there, but the phrase 'other boys' would imply to me that the assumption is being made that the perpetrators are boys. In fact, one of the ringleaders in this case is a girl. The alpha female of his cohort.

Did you just have a moment of "Oh, well that's different, then"? Many people would. When I mentioned to a friend recently that my son's chief tormentor was a girl, he was surprised. For a split second his face bore that look of "He's getting beaten up by a girl?" But this is a whole different kind of beating up. One that girls may even do better than boys. The truth of that dawned on my friend, and we discussed the preconceptions that exist.

Let's look at this. We're not talking about 5 year olds, or even 11 year olds, here. We're talking about 17 year olds. At a school with a catchment of high achievers from 'nice' homes. These kids have moved far beyond bloodied noses in the playground. The physical component of their abuse is subtle and deniable. Shoulder barges in the corridor, a bunch of them poking him with their badminton racquets and then saying it's because he doesn't answer when they call him. But they call him over and over and over. Several of them. All at once. In several lessons. All the time. If/when he finally explodes with a "WHAT?!?!" they all pack up laughing. If a teacher says anything encouraging to him, they make sotto voce remarks about how weird he is, or how he isn't actually that clever.

It goes on and on and on... and this kind of stuff is just as much within the reach of girls as boys. One of his teachers assured me that he should simply blank her, that she would get what was coming to her. Not in any vindictive way, but simply in a sense of reaping what she had sown. I don't really draw comfort from that. I'm not looking for revenge. I'm looking for resolution.

To give them their due, none of the teachers have adopted an attitude that this is less serious, less damaging, less hurtful, less anything because one of the chief perpetrators is a girl and the victim is a boy.

Bullying UK has twittered me just this morning to say that in 90% of cases, bullying is a same-gender practice. I wonder whether that's really true or whether boys bullying girls is treated as sexual harassment and girls bullying boys goes unreported because of the greater stigma attached to the acknowledgement.

Drew Buddy (aka Digital Maverick) sent me a link to this video from Digizen. While it addresses cyberbullying, and focuses on slightly younger kids, the story it tells is very much like my son's.

I can't promise that that will be the last mention I make of this situation. But I would like to move off the topic. I feel imprisoned by it, too, and it's twisting my gut.

So, on to other things. Let me see if I can find a Friday smile....

Bullying and ub3r1337ness

Implied profanity warning.

Even if you've only been reading this blog for a short time, you will be aware of my elder son's woes at school. Bullying is not only something that happens to little kids in the playground. It is also not only something that happens to the fat kid or the slow kid. It can also happen to the handsome, bright, confident, sporty kid.

I share our experiences here (a) because we need to speak up against this and (b) in case any other parents are experiencing similar woes.

When our son switched schools in September, he went from being the most popular kid on campus to the most reviled. His life now is filled with sotto voce remarks in maths class, with shoulder barges in the corridor, with en masse proddings with badminton racquets in PE, with gossip and torment and ridicule. ALL. THE. TIME.

My confident-to-the-point-of-arrogance son has disappeared. In his place I have a boy who hides away in his room playing World of Warcraft (WoW) until we drag him away from it to eat, shower, do his chores, finish his course work, etc. I can seldom drag last year's county 200m champion and javelin runner up to the athletics track.

I spoke to him about it recently. I reminded him of the 9 year old boy who played chess for the county team. Whose wails after a defeat could be heard all the way from the team room, but who, by the time the next round was called, had regained a certain set to his jaw and a steely determination in his eye. This boy could not, would not stay down. He was stubborn. He was determined. He was defiant. He was a winner who just had to find a way to persuade his opponent to recognise that fact.

I asked him what had changed. Why he chose to try to keep his head below the parapet, and allow his tormentors to curtail his life so effectively.

As a family, we are not known for profanity, but he produced a torrent of it. He was tired of feeling like sh*t, of being treated like sh*t, of putting up with an endless, unrelenting stream of sh*t all day every day. He just wanted to be left alone. He just wanted to get through a day, just one day without abuse.

He spoke of how he got to help people in WoW. How other players had developed respect for him. How he was able to give people a leg up to achieve greater things (sound like anyone we know?). He spoke of the sanctuary it had become. When the real world becomes too much, aren't we all tempted to retreat into fantasy? In this respect, how is playing WoW different from reading fiction all day every day, or retreating into daydreams?

Up until now, I have been the one contacting the school and trying to deal with issues, while respecting the boundaries my son had set. At the same time, I tried to persuade him to let us take it further. I worried that retreating after the first intervention proved counter-productive only served the bullies' agenda.

Yesterday my husband decided that enough was enough. That, sorry kiddo, but there are times when a parent has to overrule his son. He made an appointment to speak to the head of 6th form at the school. Man to man. About a boy. It was hard for me to butt out. But my husband has a different way of dealing with things and my way hasn't worked.

After they had had a discussion, they called the lad in. Between them, they set some plans in action but... and here's the kicker, the head said he totally understood what a retreat WoW can be and how easy it is to sucked in to the exclusion of all else. Now you can imagine the 'oh yeah' written all over the face of a 17 year old who hears this from his head... until the man reveals that he is a level 80 Night Elf Rogue and a level 78 Human Paladin.

Now I don't play the game, so I didn't know quite how impressive this was until I told my younger son this news, whereupon he declared the head to be 'ub3r1337' (pronounced uber-leet).

So now, there is this sense of connection. Of someone who understands. We have a partner. Our son has an ally. While he freely acknowledges he can't manufacture a friend, the head has undertaken to put a stop to the torment, without putting my son at further risk. Whether it will work or not remains to be seen. In the meantime, there is an open door policy for my son, should he ever need a safe space to retreat to.

Now we get to hold our breath to see if this will work. Exams are looming and WoW isn't going to get him the grades that he needs to go the university he wants!

On being an encourager's encourager

If you've been coming here for a while, you'll know that I am committed to being an encourager, enabler, empowerer. It's why I do what I do.

You will also know that I am a complete tigress when it comes to my kids. My view is that, until they are in a position to fight their own battles, their parents are the bottom line, the people on whom they must be able to depend to fight their corner for them. We have fought our kids' corner against ludicrous odds. Sometimes we have won. Sometimes we have lost spectacularly.

The point is that I will take on anyone or anything when it comes to my boys. My husband is nowhere near as combative as I am, but he backs me to the hilt when I take on an opponent he believes to be in the wrong. I play offence. He plays defence. It works. There was even an occasion when he needed me to go to bat for him, when he was in hospital and a series of administrative inefficiencies meant that he was not being discharged. I got him out within two hours. You may not be able to fight city hall, but the day may well come when I die trying! Many people have vowed that the day they need someone to fight their corner, they will make a beeline for me.

Maybe I should have been a civil rights activist or something ;o)

Of course, the boys have to learn to assume the mantel themselves, so, as they grow older, we encourage them to handle more and more on their own. We also accept support and input from other quarters.

And there's a flip side to all of this, which is why I am posting about this today. If you're prepared to challenge any and everyone to a duel when they do your kids wrong, you have got to prepared to make mention of the positive input you get, too.

My beleaguered elder son feels he has one solitary ally at school in the form of one of his maths teachers. Ms Verity. I use her real name simply because I find it so touchingly apt. Ms Truth. She sees exactly what is going on. She is not blinded by the antics of his tormentors. She speaks encouragement into his life all the time. She provides him with targeted worksheets that address his particular weaknesses in the subject. She builds him up at every opportunity.

When the pastoral teacher tried to intervene in the victimisation, things got worse. His mentor nods and says he understands but, according to my son, he clearly doesn't. He has implored me not to phone the man, predicting that I will be fobbed off with platitudes. So it's just us and Ms Verity.

Yesterday, I phoned to thank her for being such a stalwart. We had a wonderful heart to heart. She asked what else she could do, but we decided that to do any more would be to make it obvious that she was doing something. That would probably be no good thing. We discussed potential courses of action. We discussed the primary tormentor's tactics and the best way for my son to deal with her.

So there a few things here: first of all , there is a partnership between school and home - open, frank communication about our shared interest in a hurting young man. Second, there is a tailored approach based on the specifics of the situation. Instead of following the step by step protocol in the manner of the failed attempts by the pastoral support teacher. Third, and most importantly, there is a teacher who is going the extra mile... and a parent who is prepared to commend her for it.

There are real human beings involved in this story. Each of whom has expectations, quirks, strengths and weaknesses. A procedural approach can only go so far before one of those factors causes it to fall apart.

Trying to do things by the book has its limits. I am deeply grateful that Ms Verity has the courage to look past the book, see the human beings involved, and address the situation based on that.

I hope that my phone call yesterday has been encouragement to her to keep on keeping on.

Who will you encourage today?

An unexpected gift

Many of you will already know that today has been my last day in the office. There is much I could say on that subject, but that will be for another time. What I have to say today is only indirectly related.

I like to keep an open communication with my sons' schools. If there is anything going on at home that might impact their performance or their behaviour, I feel it's only fair that the teachers should have an indication... even if the details are witheld.

You can imagine that facing the prospect of self-employment a little sooner than planned has caused some tension in our household. And it has proved to be a very unwise time to enter a period of economic uncertainty - although we didn't realise this when the (ahem) pumpkin first hit the fan.

So I phoned the school and left a message for my younger son's tutor to contact me so I could bring her up to speed.

You see, our younger son is a worrier who assumes responsibilities and worries that are not his to take on. If you have been keeping up with this blog for a while, you will know that he recently changed schools and that he suffered terribly at the hands of bullies at his previous school. You will also know that he is a very insecure lad.

It doesn't help that he had a birthday a few days ago and - due to the economic climate in the Romeis household - we gave him a mere token and an IOU.

All these factors were bound to have him acting out at school.

Imagine, then, my sheer delight at being told by the teacher that she has seen no sign of anything untoward. That he has settled in well and made friends. That he is always courteous. That his work is always handed in on time. That he is always neatly turned out. That, in short, he is her dream student.

When your son's teacher tells you that she wishes she had a class full of kids like your son, that's pink cloud time. So, in spite of the fact that he didn't get a proper gift from us on his birthday, he inadvertently gave us a gift that every parent dreams of!

The lad is growing up. He's coping with this a lot better than I expected. A lot better than I am, in fact.

Do you consider your kids' teachers to be your partners? Do you discuss with them issues that you know of that might impact their performance at school? Do you expect them to return the favour?

Flaming, bullying and pink

Don Taylor recently posted on a topic that has been an issue for me from time to time, namely that of flaming. I won't repeat his post, you can check that out for yourself, but I found today's Calvin & Hobbes strip particularly apposite!

It seems to me that sometimes we forget that there are real people on the other end of our bile: people with flesh and blood and feelings.

During the hassles we have repeatedly had with the bullying of our younger son, we have found this to be true of the perpetrators. So often they maintain that they were "just having a bit of a laugh" and didn't mean any harm.

As Harold (and many others) remind us, tomorrow is the day to wear pink in solidarity against bullying. Go on, I dare you. Janet, you can wear peach, salmon or coral!

Musings about bullying and victimisation

There has been much talk lately about cyberbullying. And with good reason. I suspect that the feelings people have when they are bullied are the same, regardless of whether the bullying is conducted in the physical or the virtual, by snail mail or text message. What follows is a description of my own current experience.

Over this past weekend, the whole family was indoors when a large clod dirt suddenly hit the window ledge and shattered. We raced outside to investigate, only to have to duck as several more followed. My husband called out for the perpetrators to stop. We stood on chairs to see whether we could identify the assailants, who began to throw rocks at us. One narrowly missed my elder son's head. By this time, I had picked up the phone and dialled the police. My son called out to the perpetrators that this was the case. Another barrage of rocks answered.

The policewoman on the phone asked me who was doing this and why. She kept insisting that we must be able to describe the people, but of course, we were too busy ducking rocks to get a proper look, and between volleys, they were too careful not to be seen. We were able to see which house the rocks were coming from, were unable to identify the address, since the house is in a street that backs onto ours. This, too frustrated the policewoman who felt we should be able to provide this information.

When we bought this house almost two years ago. Many who knew us read into the purchase the decision to set down roots in the UK. Perhaps they were right, but since we moved into the house, I have had cause to call the police several times - something we have not had to do before.

Some of those times, I have already posted about. In addition, there have been other incidents of stone throwing; there has been the theft of bicycles; eggs being thrown at our house; my car being "keyed;" my younger son being threatened and harassed on his paper round. The only time the police have actually come here was after the happy slapping incident (see link above). This is because the others have been petty crimes and no-one has been hurt.

What I can say, though, is that many of these minor crimes add up. They wear a person down. While I recognise that many of the incidents are random, there has been a veritable campaign of egg- and stone-throwing. After this last incident, I informed my husband, "I don't want to live here anymore." He asked whether I was referring to the house or the country, and to be honest, I don't know the answer to that one. I feel victimised, singled out. I know in my head that the police have bigger fish to fry, but I feel abandoned and unsupported. And if I were to run away from the problem, where could I go where I could be sure that it wouldn't be just the same... or worse?

I imagine that all victims of bullying feel this same sense of helplessness and puzzlement. Why me? Why us? What have I/we ever done to them?

Note: we were subsequently able to identify one of the people as a boy from my sons' school who, together with his father, plays cricket with my husband and elder son for the local village team. And of course, I am agonising over what we have done to him to warrant this kind of treatment - there has certainly been no sign of acrimony during the long Sunday afternoon cricket matches.