We all knew them. The "popular" kids in middle and high school. Who am I kidding....we even knew who they were in elementary school. Popularity was, and is, a pretty good indicator of power. In school, power was usual obtained by taking it from someone else. In adulthood, there are ways to gain power through hard work and dedication, although there are still those that will steal it. Why am I on this subject tonight? I didn't have much trouble with bullies when I was growing up. I stuck with the right kids, and laughed when they laughed, agreed when it was expected, and was a good little drone. I look back, and I regret it. Where was my strength, my stubbornness, my uniqueness, and yes, even my anger. Where was my manic rage? Even then I kept it hidden, except from those closest to me.
Now, I understand. Now, it hurts worse then it ever could have then. Because now, it is my heart. My Savannah. Last year, she had many friends. Pretty, plain, giggly or serious, she got along with all of them. She was invited to all the parties, play dates, sleepovers...it all changed in a blink of an eye.
Fifth grade. The girls are snobbish, the boys are cruel. There is talk of makeup, boyfriends, facebook, and rated R movies. Savannah still likes to pretend. She likes to climb trees and even play with barbies. She is a science fanatic. She can tell you five species of beetles and what climate they live in. She can tell you the life cycle of the humble squid. She gets A's in every other class without any effort yet she struggles to get a C in math. Savannah is an original. She has always stuck up for the ones that wouldn't or couldn't stick up for themselves. I had more then one teacher call her "the mommy" of the class. The overweight kid, the one who was just learning English, the one who had a birth mark over her eye, she watched over them, protected them from the "popular" kids.
I volunteer in the school quite often. I see my daughter at lunch, sitting by herself at a long table, while every other kid in her class sits at the table next to her. I see tears fill her eyes as she struggles to keep them from overflowing. I want to shake every one of those kids. I want to go get her, take her home and never bring her back. I want to protect her. I see her in class when the teacher tells them to get a partner. Her eyes hopeful as every other kid is paired up and she ends up alone. The way her face falls and she stares at the floor.
Savannah has awesome teachers, but they have no idea who Savannah is. I wish they could see her as I do. She is brilliant. I am not just a mom who thinks her kid is the greatest. Well, OK, yes I am, but that is not the only reason I say she is brilliant.
In second grade, my husband and I were told that Savannah seemed to drift into space. It was so bad that the teacher had to slap her desk to get her attention...often. When she was told to copy off the board, she got frustrated. No problem with her eyes..we checked. We finally realized Savannah thinks differently. She is an excellent reader, but can not read a sentence and then write it...or even a word. She has to write one letter, look up to get the next letter....and so on. She lost her place constantly. It took forever to copy notes, or even write down assignments. Combine that with her attention issues, she struggled every day. She was a C student.
No one wanted to help. "C is an average grade." I was told, " Not everyone can get all A's". I kept pushing. I saw Savannah memorize word after word of science manuals, history textbooks on high school levels. I saw her figure things out in her head that I couldn't begin to understand. I heard her vocabulary, and marveled at how she liked to learn new words from the dictionary. Finally, the school system agreed to test her. She met with a specialist every day for a week, one on one.
When I went to the meeting to get the results I was told, according to the evaluation, she had an IQ of 132. I was not surprised. I actually thought it was higher, but the test administrator noted that he had to keep redirecting her. Everyone else...well, they were amazed. "Wow...there is a problem. This child should not be getting C's." Oh, really....hmmmm, could have sworn I've been saying that for two years.
What does this have to do with her getting left behind...to being ostracized, and shunned? It is simple,..she is different. In a world where we try to look like others, talk like others...dress like others...Savannah is her own person. She organized her own food drive, sent her birthday money to save endangered animals. Adopted a child in Africa. She isn't interested in clothes, boys, or movies.
If she wants to wear pink leggings with a red and blue dress with a monkey on the front, then she will. She is cocky, headstrong, sure of herself ....until she gets to school. Then she becomes smaller somehow. My gorgeous girl, with her flowing hair and killer smile, looks plain and dull. I almost don't recognize her...
She has an IEP plan. (Individualized Education Plan) The teachers don't keep this confidential, so everyone knows there is "something wrong with her". She does not have to fill in bubble sheets because her eyes don't track correctly. She also is given copies of notes in every class...after she tries to take her own. She sits apart from the others during test taking because she can get distracted very easily. A bouncing leg, a clicked pen, and she will completely zone.
I am her biggest cheerleader. I try to make up for the heartache at school. She is spoiled. I admit it. I can't seem to get the image of my little girl, eyes filled with tears all alone at the lunch table, out of my mind.
The school counselor started a "Book Club". When my daughter came home with a permission form to join this book club, her exact words were..."mom, the guidance counselor started a club for the really bizarre kids who have no friends. I was invited to join".
I was FURIOUS!
So, now it's the victim that needs the intervention? I never would have let Savannah join such a ridiculous club, except she begged.... it got her out of sitting at that empty lunch table one day a week. I would really like to know where that guidance counselor came up with this idea. "Lets teach these strange kids to act like all the others...to be good little drones so they will blend in. We should instruct the weird children to say, "That's bullying! Stop bullying me or I will tell the teacher!". Anybody else think that's going to work? Why aren't we concentrating on the ones causing the pain. Where is the club for the "kids who kill the spirit of their classmates". Lets just give the "popular" ones another reason to think that being different makes you weird or less deserving of common respect.
I see these kids...these cruel children, and I know what the "experts" would say. "The bullies are usually those that have been bullied themselves...they are compensating for feelings of inadequacy." I think that is...bull shit. I think that most of these kids, (there is always exceptions)...are mean and hateful. They pick because its fun to see someone cry. I think these kids have something missing in their genetic makeup. I think, even at this young age, these kids enjoy power. They enjoy being on top, especially if it puts others beneath them. I know that I shouldn't judge children this way, but if it was your kid with the blank face and liquid eyes, I promise, you would understand.
At home, Savannah is stubborn, strong and confident. She talks fast, runs fast, and has a fast temper, and just as fast, tears. If she is interested in something, you can't tear her away....if not, there is no amount of reward, or threat, that will get her do as you want. She is almost as stubborn as I am. Thank Goodness I have had more practice, so I still win, but its not an easy contest.
I am afraid...very afraid, that my child will have to cope with bipolar disorder as I do. I gave her my brown eyes, my pug nose, my ADD. I pray I didn't give her that also. I fear the worst. Most mothers would be thrilled that their little girls are just like them...It is one of my greatest fears.
I wish, every moment, that I could make things better for my little girl...but I can't. I can only continue to tell her...and myself, that one day, she will actually earn her power. Then, NO ONE will be able to take it from her!
Til next time,
Don't worry about walking in my shoes,
Just try a day in my head.
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