Staring into the future (Part 2)
(This is the second part of a post which begins here)
Back at the park…
E stood by my side at the entrance of the park, clutching the soccer ball I’d found in the sand. He was holding it with two hands, sort of like a security blanket as he watched the other kids. I was following his lead. If he wanted to leave, we could. If he wanted to walk over to one of the other groups of kids, we could do that, also.
A toddler wobbled his way over to my son. He was close to E in age, and was also holding a ball. Despite their obvious shared love of balls, their interaction was minimal.
Suddenly a bigger kid – about nine – entered the park, walked over to my son and without saying a word, snatched the ball from him! How dare he? No way I’m gonna’ let some punk bully take something from my son!
Without even thinking what I was doing, I grabbed the ball back and glared down at the kid. “He was playing with that,” I said, holding back my instinct to yell. I handed the ball back to my son, as my mind started processing how the scene looked to my son. I want to set a good example of dealing with conflict.
The kid looked up at me, and said without any trace of anything but sincerity, “But it’s my ball.”
Oh crap.
I felt about five inches high.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and took the ball back from my son (praying he wouldn’t get upset – he didn’t, thank God) and handed it to the kid. Though I’m sure my son didn’t understand what I was saying, I explained that it was the boy’s ball and we had to give it back.
The boy took his ball and ran away. I felt like a big meanie.
I began to wonder how I will handle it the day my son runs into REAL bullies? And then I began to think of my own experiences growing up.
Somewhere the innocence of childhood gives way to the pain of growing up.
Like my son, I often watch people. I watch how they interact with one another and try to figure out what makes them do the things that they do. I’ve spent years trying to figure out how we as a species can be capable of such great things yet also have such an endless capacity for evil.
I was raised to be a good child. I respected my parents and other adults, I was the first person to offer help when someone was either moving to or from our neighborhood. I was the product of a relatively strict upbringing and I’d like to think my parents raised me right, if not a bit old fashioned.
I grew up in an inner city which had turned to crap. By the time I was 10, I’d witnessed my mother getting mugged, I was nearly dragged into the bushes by a man with a knife as I was on my way home from school, and I’d been chased down by a carload of thugs for the crime of being a “honkey”. My dad decided that enough was enough and sacrificed everything to bring us to the safety of the suburbs. That safety came at a cost, though. My dad bought a house at the height of a real estate boom and for a long time, we lived on a very tight budget.
Unfortunately, I didn’t fit into my new surroundings. I was essentially a poor kid who was suddenly thrust in with the children of wealthy parents. My kindness and naiveté made me a target. I was called a “goodie two shoes” and as kids got crueler, “a faggot” simply because I was different from them. I became a target for bullies who picked on me because I tried to turn the other cheek and wouldn’t fight back. I remember many nights crying myself to sleep wondering what the hell was wrong with me.
Kids have an innate ability to sniff out the weakest of the herd.
So, I did what I had to do to survive. I hardened. I stopped trusting people. I honed a razor sharp wit. Humor was a good defense, but it didn’t always work. I eventually had to fight back. I began to hate – others for what they did to me and myself for what I’d become.
Adapting, I was able to fit in, and in time, even made friends. However, at some point, I mourned my innocence that was forever lost. I had changed, and not in ways that I wanted. It took me a while to rediscover what mattered most to me.
Only when I stopped caring what others thought, was I able to find the strength to be myself.
I don’t feel sorry for myself and the hell I went through. I imagine most kids have a tough time at some point in their lives. Had I grown up happy and fitting in, perhaps I would never have turned to writing and drawing. Maybe that hell helped shape my talents.
And now…
I do not want my son to go through the same hell. I look at him, so full of happiness, love and innocence. And I want him to stay this way forever. I don’t want him to feel the awful stings of the many arrows that life has aimed at us.
Yet, part of me knows that pain is a part of life. And you have to let your children stumble or they will never learn to pick themselves up.
So while I want to hold him and protect him forever in a big Daddy Bubble of Protection, I know I can’t. In time, I’ll have to teach him to be strong. I might even have to teach him how to fight. It pains me that any parent should have to teach their children violence.
For now, the best thing I can do is to simply keep letting him know that he is loved. Hopefully the love of parents will help protect him from life’s cruel arrows. I know it helped me.
Thank you mom and dad.
Want BloggerDad delivered to your email every time I post? Well, you’re not alone. Join the literally tens of others who have already subscribed for free!
Email not your thing? That’s okay, you can also subscribe via RSS – It’s also free.
19 Responses to “Staring into the future (Part 2)”
Comments
Read below or add a comment...
I really enjoyed reading this. Your writing cut straight to my emotions and for the duration of the read you had command of them. The pain that you describe is what took me to my career.
I didn’t feel too much pain at the hands of bullies. Some, but not enough ever to say I was bullied.
The thing for me is I easily feel the pain of others.
Touching Dave, really touching. I’m going to leave it there for now.
It doesn’t do for a man to tear up over his breakfast cereal.
Dave Fowlers last blog post..Flaps. Check. Undercarriage. Check.
Dave, thanks for this.
I need to go and think about this for awhile before I honestly comment on it.
But for now, thank you.
Dave,
What you’ve described is one of the most difficult things as a parent. Pain is good for them, it’s good for all of us. Without it we are soft. There is no doubt that your pain helped to shape your ample talent. Sweet is not sweet without the sour. You are a good man, and that is exactly what you are going to raise.
Writer Dads last blog post..Namasté
Yikes Blogger Dad. Such an outpouring!
I know exactly what you mean. I recently posted about this myself
http://blogs.coventrytelegraph.net/fromdawntillrusk/2008/09/bullying.html
I was bullied and believe it made me the person I am today, but I do not ever want my children to suffer in that way. But then after posting on that issue, a colleague told me about how he was bullied at school and his mum stepped in and made it 10 times worse.
How you deal with it as a parent is a really difficult issue and one I am really not looking forward to.
My son often uses comedy now to difuse a situation and it works – at the moment.
Really BD, that’s some tough stuff you’ve been through. Thanks for sharing.
Taras last blog post..The business of blogging
A child’s innocence is an amazing thing. No matter what is going on around, bills, fights, struggles, etc. the child keeps on doing what he/she knows how to do best, be a child. We cannot protect our kids forever, for even the mother bear has to let her cub fend for itself at some point, in order to survive, but take the time while it is there for the taking and protect away!
Sals last blog post..Paper or Plastic With Writer Dad
I’m with you…I don’t want my kids’ innocence to be lost to worrying about other kids’ treatments of them. Unfortunately (maybe fortunately) I’d mentally prepared myself for the day my kids got teased. I’d been teased a lot for my name and because I’d had really crooked teeth and an overbite. After braces and reconstructive surgery as a teenager, I saw how people changed their behavior toward me – the same people who used to tease me. I hated them for their shallowness, but at the same time, it made me tougher. I learned to disregard their opinions of me. When I had my kids, I knew they would be teased about something. What I’ve done to prepare them is to let them make choices for themselves and not criticize, but support them (even though watching your child head to preschool in an orange shirt and orange pants because “they match” is hard to do), I ask their opinion on various things, and I let them make mistakes. Without doing these things, I don’t think my kids could build the confidence, self-esteem or proper self-image to stand up to teasing. So when my older son came home and said that some kids at school said he was skinny (he’s 5th percentile on weight), and asked if he was, I acknowledged that he was (in a positive way), but that other people are too, or they’re fat, or have brown hair or blond or whatever. I told him the important thing was how he treated other people and how he felt on the inside. I did explain that there would always be people who make a big deal about the things that don’t matter, and that he could always talk to me (or his dad) about it. That seemed to put him at ease and he went on about his business.
Anyway, sorry for the extended comment, but your post really hit home with me.
“Only when I stopped caring what others thought, was I able to find the strength to be myself.”
What a profound statement!
I’ve really enjoyed these past two days’ posts. Very thought provoking and well-written.
GreenJellos last blog post..New Stadium
Dave – Thank you, I appreciate the kind words. I hope you weren’t eating Wheaties or something with an athlete on the cover as you wept.
Matthew – Thank you.
Writer Dad – Thank you. I especially like your last sentence.
Sal – Thank you. Well said.
Maha – Thank you for sharing your story. I’d never thought about that part, asking their opinions to build their confidence. That sounds like a great plan. I will make every effort to do the same.
GreenJello – Thank you, I appreciate the comment. I was worried that these posts might be a bit too serious or too personal. I’m glad that some of you relate or find value in them. Thanks again.
It’s very special for me reading about a man’s tender feelings for his son.
Not that I’m that regular a visitor here, but I like serious, I like personal. Nice post.
Dots last blog post..Haiku Friday
Hey, you doofus. I never said I was weeping! I just got something in my eye and my eye got a bit moist. That’s all. It must have been a dust particle or something.
Dave Fowlers last blog post..Flaps. Check. Undercarriage. Check.
@Dave: Yea, it was rather warm in there as well. My eyes were starting to sweat too. I hate eye sweat, makes your eyes water and all, kinda stings with all that salt and such.
Sals last blog post..Paper or Plastic With Writer Dad
Dude! You have Other Dave crying in his Wheaties! Wicked.
Seriously, there truly are tons of people out there who can completely relate to your story. So much about parenting is bittersweet. Great joys and great pains, all rolled into one.
(We went to the park today and I though of you and E.)
Jamie Simmermans last blog post..Picking the Brain of Naomi Dunford
It’s a balancing act, isn’t it, between protecting and giving them room to grow?
Beautifully said.
Shade and Sweetwater,
K (who has been known to mutter “if that little punk pushes the Evil Genius one more time, I am going to kick his tiny ass!” at the playground)
Kyddryns last blog post..The Gypsy Stirring
Great post that really hit home. I was bullied at school, just for being quiet and not sleeping with boys from age fourteen onwards! Now I have a little girl myself and I dread to think what she will have to deal with. I didn’t get the right parental support when it was happening and so I vow every day to make sure we will be there for our daughter. Not only that but to give her the confidence to get through anything that may (and will) come her way. You’re so right about the stuff that happens goes to shape who you are – (Having left school, I saw the biggest bully pushing a pram,alone, aged 18 – enough said). Doesn’t stop you wanting to wrap up your children in cotton wool though!
that girl39s last blog post..Ouch…and… I Beg Your Pardon?!?
Thank you for describing the type of bullying you had as a child. I know that I was bullied, as was my husband, and we always worry that our kids will be bullied. It seems like such an impossible thing for us to break free of it as children.
It is such a hard task to ask any parent to let their child suffer. My heart seems so tender after having children, and as a parent, I seem to feel almost every emotion they feel. It is tough to love sometimes.
Rosie:)s last blog post..Pumpkin Cheesecake
This series is one of my favorites. I wonder about these very same issues for my same boys, and until I can find a way to move closer to them it becomes infinitely harder to guide them day to day. They each have distinct personalities and the little exposure they have had with bullies, although minor in comparison, they handle according to those personalities.
As I read about your experiences growing up it made me think a little bit about mine. I grew up waaaaaaay sheltered. Had loving parents, rural PA, Christian school – my innocence for the most part remained in tact through graduation. Then I joined the Army and suddenly I’m thrown in with guys from all over – my “safety buddy” used to own a strip club for example (and here I am a virgin). I digress.
My point is that somewhere in life, boys in particular, are going to be faced with these types of situations at some point in their life. It’s a right of passage. What will get them through is the tools their parents pass on to the them. I don’t regret how I grew up, but the one mistake I am cognizant of is instead of explaining the consequences of some of the stuff out there, I was just told to stay away from it. It ended up just making me curious.
Really good subject. Tara’s post was really good on this too. Thanks
CK Lunchboxs last blog post..CLARK KENT’S INBOX October 10th
I so appreciate your courage to be so frank and self-disclosing. It really hit me in a number of ways. I would never want one of my sons to go through what your or I expereinced as children. However, I can’t help but think of what you have now given to so many of us because you came through it with wisdom and a strong character.
It kills me to watch others treat my children in an unkind way. But it happens. When our oldest son was only eight, one of the most conniving boys I’ve ever known started stocking him in the neighborhood. I wanted to ring the kids neck. I couldn’t believe my son was dealing with this at his age from this punk kid. It took all I had to work with my son, allow him to grow from the experience and learn how to deal with tough people and issues for himself. I’m no pro. I know it was the best thing, but it still wasn’t easy.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts and feelings from this personal experience.
B. Wildes last blog post..Being Volunteered to Shovel-out the Barn
Dot – Thank you for stopping by and commenting. I appreciate it. As for the serious and personal, I try and mix it up a little, serious one day, musings on topics like poopie on others.
Dave – Likely story. Um, hum.
Sal – I wasn’t aware that you and Dave had breakfast together. Quite a journey for you to the UK, eh?
Jamie – Thank you. And yes, I love to make Other Dave cry. It’s one of the few perks writing this blog. And thank you for thinking of me and E.
Kyddryn – Thank you. And LOL at K!
Thatgirl39 – Thanks for visiting. It sounds like you learned and will do right by your daughter. Best of luck!
CK Lunchbox – Thank you. I don’t envy you having to deal with this for all of your children. And, a virgin in the Army? Wow, you musta’ got picked on.
B. Wilde – thanks for your nice words. And that’s some restraint on your part with that punk! I hope I can restrain as well.