The first emotion when I noticed my son's conflicts in the yard was surprise. A clever, funny guy, regular joker, game organizer, natural leader and just a handsome eight-year-old boy has problems with his peers — guys he has known for about a year? This can't be the case! I guess it seemed to me. I couldn't believe my eyes. But the situation began to rapidly gain momentum. And now the boys united against their son: they joked when he appeared, spoke taunts, and ran away. Sasha was also surprised at first and then upset. I had to try to give the aggressive context a different twist, but soon my arguments — “come on, they were joking”, “they just wanted to run”, “it's not against you, this is such a game” — no longer worked at all. The child tried to talk to his peers, respond in kind and ignore it, but the situation only got worse.
I immediately identified the instigators — a feeble boy with a sad face and a tear-off girl, our immediate neighbor. Okay boy. A football fan, he was clearly unhappy with the fact that Sasha was always dragging guys from football to other games. But I didn't understand the girl's motives. Most recently, he and Sasha were drawing together with crayons on the asphalt, but now she changed her face every time he appeared. These two were joined by the rest, quite neutral and friendly guys.
My first step was talking to the kids. But the situation was complicated by the fact that the events took place in England, with English children, and this is... well, how can I tell you, a different planet. In short, as early as 1987, English schools had an official punishment — spanking. In other words, children were beaten in schools and, presumably, at home. Suddenly, adults realized that it was not good to hit children and rushed to protect them from themselves. At present, every English child is such a small “center of the earth” who is protected in every possible way (including with the help of special regulatory authorities), nurtured and nurtured in his own way. At school and at home, children are captured, consulted on any occasion, their opinion is listened to and almost never argued with him. If you want to wear fur boots in summer or crogs on bare feet in winter, put them on. I wanted to sit down and splash around in a puddle — sit and splash around. If you don't want to eat porridge in the morning, you're wearing a chocolate bar. If you don't want to wash your hands, eat them dirty. If you don't want to study the multiplication table in first, second, third, fourth... grade, so you're at this pace, you're so special. Anyway, we have democracy and tolerance here and no one has the right to tell you that you're bad.
I'm telling you all this in order to describe a little bit of the situation related to raising children in England. They also raise people with whom I tried to talk about peace, friendship and harmony. Moreover, these guys were not the offspring of Sir Peers, Lords, Mers, but ordinary workers. Do I need to explain that, to put it mildly, they did not listen to me, or rather openly ignored me.
The question arose: do we really need to communicate with these guys? Yes, we can ditch ourselves in a hole, wrap ourselves in a cocoon, block ourselves and move away, sit at home and keep a low profile, which is what we tried to do. We minimized Sasha's trips to the yard, and he didn't want to spend hours there anymore, although he looked sadly from the window as the kids fuss. But they don't choose their neighbors, and it's summer outside, but you want to go for a walk. This means that we need to somehow change the situation.
I've decided to talk to the parents of the instigators. The magic word “bullying” worked with lightning speed; the parents nodded their heads sympathetically with a mournful expression on their faces, and, in the end, promised to talk to their children. One was even brought in to apologize. He looked scared and unhappy. He muttered “sorry” and promised to behave decently. That's what we left for.
But I was happy early on. The situation has not changed for the better at all. I felt helpless and tired, as if I was being bullied instead of my son. I felt his feelings like mine.
There is another important legal aspect in England. Children should not be left unattended at home until they are 14 years old. Apparently, some “terrible things” are waiting for him there, for example, a refrigerator, a stove, a knife and medicines. Theoretically, a parent does not have the right to keep the child by going to the nearest store. But the law does not say anything about being on the street. The rule “the child should not be in a dangerous situation”, as well as “common sense”, works here.
Apparently, my neighbors and I had serious differences about “common sense”, because their four-year-old and older tomboys ran around unattended and began to abuse my son, ignoring my presence next to him. Now we went out for a walk with the whole family, but this did not stop the persecutors. By the way, in the absence of leaders, the guys were friendly and played quietly with Sasha, but when they appeared, the guys' behavior quickly changed. The problem was that leaders were always outside in any weather. When Sasha appeared, the bored crowd of babies (there were not a single teenager among the children) took off and began to slowly approach us. There was intense attention on the leaders' faces — there was nothing to complain about — the others watched curiously what would happen. My presence did not deter them, nor did my demands to fall behind. As soon as possible, they tried to take some of Sasha's belongings and break it, but when the persecutors started using sticks and the girl picked up a big rock from the ground and went to it, I decided that was enough!
I called the police and had a long conversation. They accepted the complaint and promised to send the information to the relevant organization. The next day, I received a call from the City Council from the special department for neighbor problems (there is such a thing) and again they talked to me for a long time. Police officers and the City Council sympathized with the situation, but when they heard the age of the aggressors (8 years), they shrugged their hands and advised them to talk to their parents.
— An eight-year-old girl? Were you close by, weren't you? A rock? Well, she didn't leave him,” the dear female voice reassured me.
— But what am I going to do? — I asked.
— Talk to her parents.
— Once again?
— Sure.
The second conversation with the girl's mother was less “languid”. However, by the end of the emotional conversation, we still came to the conclusion that we should live together, and the woman once again had a serious conversation with the child. I, on the other hand, sat down to think, analyze and sort out the situation on the shelves. What is the role of my son's victim? How did this mechanism of rejection and aggression start, and how can I turn it off?
After all, Sasha is not a victim at all. This is a stubborn, sometimes stubborn, extremely purposeful child with the makings of a leader. Yes, he is different from little Britons, but this did not prevent him from fitting perfectly into the new elite school and, moreover, from becoming, according to the class teacher, an extremely popular member of class (very popular in the classroom). He has many friends and is often invited to visit us and visit us. What kept him from making friends with the kids in the yard?
When I appeared in the yard, I often saw that Sasha bravely and sharply wedged into the group of guys kicking the ball. He doesn't like football; he immediately involved them in new games he invented. They would start running, hiding, playing with bandits and the police, or bringing him branches to build a tree hut. The guys were interested, even for a feeble boy with a ball and a girl torn off. After a school play about Robin Hood, Sasha made himself a bow, cut his arrows, glued together a green paper hat, attached an elastic band to it and plugged in a large pigeon feather, and went out into the yard like this. The appearance was spectacular — the children threw balls and surrounded him.
- Did you do this yourself? So the bow also shoots?! Let me try it! And me! And me! — it was heard from all sides.
I concluded that it was this brightness, dissimilarity, courage and success that the guys intuitively understood and was not accepted by everyone. While most children enjoyed the opportunity to diversify the game, the “informal leaders” soon felt the competition. There's no way I can explain the unexpected change anymore: they started breaking his bow and arrow, destroying the hut they had built together, persuading him and taking the rest of the guys away. At first, I was surprised because playing together is more interesting. And finally, I realized that this is a banal, inept and treacherous children's struggle for power, as well as jealousy for others' well-being and success. After all, both leaders, in my opinion, were the most abandoned children by their parents: the sad boy lived with his stepmother, and his mother constantly yelled at the girl, spending hours unattended.
How can we not recall the psychological thesis: “If a child behaves badly, then he feels bad. Thus, he draws attention to his problem. He needs help.” Unfortunately, I couldn't help these children. I couldn't start taking them to theaters and museums, traveling, talking about life, reading books, hugging them and patting them on the head. On the other hand, she had to help her child, who is now turning into an insecure and upset person. It was like something had changed about him, he felt threatened in the yard, and it was important for me to regain his confidence.
First, the aggressors' parents found effective arguments, and they calmed down.
Second, I came up with a game for my son. Sasha is an enthusiastic person. Before he was 3 years old, he had a “McQueen period” (a red Disney car). That's what everyone should have called him at home and in kindergarten. We drew cars on diapers for him, bought appropriate clothes and had him wear a mask for the party, and drew cars from the wrong side. He even “entered” the doctor's office, holding his hands with “mirrors”. And when asked, “What happened?” , I honestly answered: “The trunk hurts.” The doctor's eyes popped out of her head, then she burst out laughing and immediately supported the game.
Then we met Sven Nurqvist's characters, and for two years his wonderful books became hits for us. The family members were renamed, and the son called himself the kitten Findus. Then there was the “Justy airplane period” and we changed our wardrobe again... Sasha is now an adult, but I decided to try to use his commitment to gaming.
— Who do you like better, Stirlitz or James Bond? — I asked.
“Stirlitz,” he said with a little hesitation.
Well, I began in a conspiratorial tone, “I think these guys are enemy intelligence agents.” Have you noticed how weird they've been lately? And all because they have launched a counteroffensive, they have learned our secrets and are sending information to our enemies...” I said.
As I spoke, Sasha's face was stretching out, her eyes were getting bigger, and the cunning lights I knew appeared in them. By the end of our conversation, a plan and strategy for the next walk had been developed. Sasha will approach the guys and won't make adjustments to the game as usual, but will quietly stand side by side. He will listen attentively and remember everything they say, he will remember all their movements and actions, because this will have to be recorded in detail in our encryption in the Center.
— Center? — Sasha asked again.
— Yes, to the Center, to the Headquarters, to Smolny, to the Kremlin, to the Pentagon, to Dome Square! The main thing is that no one should know what it really is called, but they can eavesdrop on us! - We both looked at the front door.
The walk was a great one. Sasha was delighted with everything the guys didn't do. They whispered — great; they ran away — great; they didn't share candy with him — the food could have been poisoned! He radiated with enthusiasm and self-confidence, and it was obvious. The instigators, who had another stick in from their parents the day before, behaved quieter, but the company's behavior still showed a consistent scenario. But Sasha's behavior, his happy face and his indifference to provocations baffled them.
At home, he choked and told me who was doing and what, and I could hardly take notes. Then we carefully folded the painted leaf and decided to send it to the Center with carrier pigeons. They decided to catch the pigeons in the nearest park and went to buy bread for them. We now wrote encryptions to the Center every time, as long as the hotbed of tension in the company subsided. This happened pretty quickly. A feeble boy with a sad face suddenly moved in, and Otorva gave Sasha a book and treated him to candy. Despite this, Sasha doesn't trust her and calls her a “double agent”. The rest of the guys periodically knock on our door with the question “Will Sasha come out?”
I managed to resolve a difficult situation, and I drew some conclusions: anyone, even the most confident and successful, could suddenly become a victim. An aggressor person or a team can turn into a ruthless skating rink that sweeps away everything in its path, causing dangerous mental or physical injuries. And we must find the strength and courage to confront the offenders, not to withdraw into ourselves, to look for allies, and not to hesitate to ask them for help. And no matter how difficult it is, we cannot put up with it, let alone consider the current situation to be the norm. We must make every effort to resolve the conflict by any means, even the most unusual ones.
If persecution begins, you can't treat it as a minor childish showdown and stand aside. The child should feel protected and receive help from the people closest to him — parents.
Sophia L.
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