Different

Last year my kids were all in the car with me after school. The middle child made the comment that someone at school called him different. Before I could turn on my ever present happy mom face and make it all better, his younger sister told him it was okay since people have called her different at school. His older sister said almost the exact same thing except that she added one of her teachers said I was different to another teacher. She said the teachers were saying it in a good way.

Being different is good. Quiet is good. Mean is not.

My oldest child has come home crying due to bullies in her school, and asks me why people are mean. Why they laugh when she reads out loud in class or why kids make fun of her friends. I tell her to stand up for herself and her buddies. No one else really matters. I tell her kids are mean because they are lonely and they hurt on the inside. They are only jealous of her and are perhaps ignorant of how wonderful she is on the inside.

The problem is I don't listen to my own advice. The problem is there are adult bullies. They talk about what you wear to work, what dish you bring to a church pot luck, or put ugly letters in your mailbox. (the mailbox letter is my personal favorite since they were too scared to sign it) They might even say you write a blog about your friend in order to get attention for yourself and that you were part of the problem.(another favorite)

I often wonder if the pool has replaced the playground as a Mecca for bullying. If the t-ball stands are the new school cafeteria. People know when you are talking about them. Just because you put your hand over your mouth while you whisper to your friend next to you, some adult woman across the pool feels like she is two inches tall.

We all do it to some extent. Talking about someone else's problems let's you take your mind off your own. I've had plenty of problems where I wanted to bury my head in the sand. Others just attempt to fill a day with gossip and hateful actions. Neither solves the problem at hand, and people end up getting hurt by both.

I guess my mother never really gossiped or talked bad about other people. I'm sure she did sometimes, but we were never allowed to say hateful things about other people. Our children listen to everything we say and they see everything we do. Hate is taught at home. So is
love. I've been known to get up and leave a table if people are bad mouthing someone else. I learned that from my mother.

I hope I am passing that on to my children. Even though it seems like everyone else is doing it and it seems like fun, you do not have to join them. Being different is good.