When I walk my son to and from school every day, the trip takes about ten minutes each way unless there is a particularly interesting stick, rock, acorn or leaf along the way. Then it takes longer.
We spend this time going over spelling words, reviewing multiplication, talking about what we did yesterday or plans for today, or sometimes saying nothing at all. Often during these trips, I’m learning about who my son is and what is important to him.
During one of our recent trips, I could tell something was wrong as soon as he came out of the classroom. He grabbed my hand, and with head down he practically dragged me out of the building. When we got outside I saw that his eyes were glistening and it was all he could do to hold back the sobs.
Our pace slowed. I badly wanted to ask him what was wrong, but I knew it would come if I was patient. He managed to compose himself and after a deep breath, the story unfolded. “Today at lunch, Jeff (the name has been changed to protect the guilty) told me I couldn’t be his friend anymore.”
“What would make him say something like that?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Well there must have been something. Did you do something or say something that made him upset?”
“No.” It was one of those Nos that starts high pitched and then is drawn out as if to say, “Come on, Mom, you know better than that.”
“Jeff says I’m not cool enough. He says I’m too good and that I don’t take enough risks.” Stopping for a breath he looked up at me in complete confusion and went on. “He told me if I wanted to be his friend that the next time there was no talking (in class), I had to talk.”
When I see my child wounded like this, I feel something surge through my body, a growl begins deep in my throat, and suddenly I become…SUPER PARENT! Faster than a speeding tricycle, able to leap small children in a single bound, dedicated to making kids behave who have never behaved before!
I am ready to take on this 9-year-old kid, and his parents, too, for that matter. This gut reaction leads me to say really helpful things like, “What’s Jeff’s problem? Who made him the cool police? Just stay away from him.”
“But Mom, he’s my friend. I don’t want him to stop being my friend.”
This statement melts away my Super Parent persona. I say, “Why do you want to be friends with someone who treats you like that?”
“Because he’s funny. We have a good time together. Besides, Mom, aren’t you always saying that when people treat you mean it’s because they’re unhappy or they’ve had a bad day?”
“Oh yeah. I guess I do say that,” I say sheepishly as I unlock the front door.
“I guess Jeff was just having a bad day today and he’ll be back to his usual self tomorrow,” my son says as he wrestles our dog to the floor. “Can I have a snack?”
He was right, of course. The next day, he and Jeff sat together at lunch and played together at recess. They went along as though nothing had ever happened. This incident demonstrated to me how very powerful friendships are at any age. While we may think our children’s friendships are trivial, to them they are paramount. My son reminded me that the overall friendship is more valuable than any one exchange that may take place.
Having had time to step back and think more clearly, I realize that this is true of any significant relationship whether it is between friends, spouses, parents and children, co-workers, etc. The relationship’s the thing.
Our job is to teach our kids how to establish, build, and maintain healthy relationships, how to resolve inevitable conflicts in positive ways, and to recognize when a relationship is becoming destructive and is no longer salvageable. And sometimes we can learn those lessons ourselves when we listen to our kids.
