The other side of the fence.
This post was initially composed "in the moment". I've let the dust settle. We've taken a few deep breaths. We've made some changes. Life is good again. But as you will read, at the time, it wasn't!
October 2017
In my role as a school administrator, I spend a considerable amount of time dealing with parents who are meeting to share their concerns about their son or daughter. Conversations are about grades, teacher attitudes, assessment, bullying, etc. I spend a considerable amount of time working with colleagues to support students through similar issues. Grades, teacher attitudes, assessment, bullying, etc. Through all of these conversations, I remain calm, empathetic, concerned, and balanced. I listen, respond, share, decide, question, solve, and soothe. That's one of my roles as the school administrator, to make the situation better understood, better addressed, or just all-around better. This is the side of the fence that I sit on. In my comfortable chair, knowing my side intimately and thinking I have a fairly representative view of what the other side is like.
But now, my daughter is being bullied. She talks about the nasty things being said to her. She shares about being physically tormented. She feels there is a group who has a dare to see who can make her cry first. And this morning, there was a post on the class social media site saying "she looks so ugly!"
In a heartbeat (a very loud one!), I have been thrown out of my comfortable chair, launched over the fence, and landed in a space that I have never, ever truly been before. The. Other. Side. Of. The. Fence!
I've picked myself up and haven't been able to dust myself off! I'm angry! I want something done. I have some thoughts on what that should look like, and none of those thoughts are curtailed by calmness or empathy or concern, or balance! I don't want to listen. I definitely need soothing! I am new to this side of the fence and I'm not liking it!
But then my school administrator role kicks back in for a moment and I am back on the comfortable chair with a good view of the fence. And now I realize I can't see the other side. I thought I had a good view but I REALLY can't see where I just was!
I've talked about it a million times with parents and students. "Let's consider that from the other side of the fence." "Let's step out of our shoes and step into the shoes of the other person." "Let's consider the alternate opinion." I have talked about it for years but didn't KNOW it until today!
Nothing prepared me for the visceral reaction I experienced this morning when I saw that social media post naming my daughter. NOTHING! Not stepping over a fence or putting on someone's shoes or taking another opinion. NOTHING!
As I continue to process my daughter's hurt, my anger, and my wife's tears, I realize this will go down as a pivotal learning experience for me. Bullying hurts. I mean, it REALLY hurts. No amount of stepping over a fence to take another perspective will help. Until you are hurled over that fence, you really don't get it.
[Beat]
I am now sitting down at the end of the day, alone in a sleeping house, having spent the evening with my daughter. We went out shopping and bought a few necessities. We chatted in the taxi for close to an hour. We ate at the restaurant of her choice and held hands as we cruised the mall. She's smiling and happy.
She doesn't know that her mother cried this morning, or that her father struggled with real anger for the first time in his life. She doesn't know that parents and teachers and Principals met and talked to plan a new course of action. She is resilient and strong and knows that a lot of people love her.
And what have I learned today?
Kids can be nasty. Bullying hurts. I'm never again going to pretend I know what it is like on the other side of the fence.