Don't Call the Other Mother First

A woman in our ward stopped me by the drinking fountain on Sunday. Her daughter is in fourth grade and has come home quiet on Wednesday and Thursday and Friday, and when she finally got it out of her, it was a table at lunch and a girl who says "this seat's saved" about seats that are never saved for her. "You taught third grade," she said. "If it were your kid, would you call the other mother?"

I said not first.

She looked a little let down, because calling feels like doing something, and I've been turning my answer over ever since.

One quiet afternoon is just an afternoon

Kids have flat days, over a spelling test or a bad lunch or a bus seat that went wrong, and I wouldn't do anything about one of them.

Three in a row is different, and so is a child who gets a stomachache every Monday morning or stops saying anybody's name at supper. That's usually how a parent hears about it, by a name going missing. Last year's best friend just quits coming up.

When you ask, don't ask "Did something happen?" because the answer to that is always no. Ask what the lunch table looked like. Who sat where, who was near the door, what she did after she finished eating. Side by side works better than across a table, so the car, the dog walk, the dishes. Kids will say a lot to the windshield that they won't say to your face.

You want the who and the where and the when, because you'll need all three in a minute.

What the front of a classroom can't see

I stood at the front of a room for five years, and the thing I'd most like parents to know is how much of this I never saw. It happens in the lunch line, at the far edge of the playground, in the half minute while partners are being picked and the teacher is looking for the glue sticks. A teacher sees the finished room. Everybody seated, everybody working, nobody crying.

What I did see were the signs that came afterward, like the child who volunteers to stay in and wash the boards, or who turns into my best helper and wants to be near my desk at every transition. I took that for eagerness, and some of it was a kid looking for a safe place to stand.

So if your child is being left out, the teacher may be the last adult to know and the most useful one once she does, provided she gets facts. "Some girls are being mean" gives her nothing to act on. "On Tuesday and Wednesday, nobody at the second table would make room, and Thursday she ate by the trash cans" gives her three things she can walk over and look at tomorrow.

Then ask for something small: a seat, a partner, a spot in the lunch group, a job that puts your child next to someone kind. I'd ask for a seating change before I'd ask for a speech to the class, because a speech names her and makes the whole thing larger.

Why I wouldn't dial the other mother

You can be completely right and still make it worse.

The other mother hears an accusation about a child she loves, and she gets defensive before she gets curious. Then her daughter hears about it at supper, and your daughter pays for it on Monday.

The Church's Friend magazine, in a 2009 article on bullying, lists leaving someone out right alongside scaring and mocking, so this isn't something to talk yourself out of taking seriously. It matters. I'd still start with the school, because the school can change the room and I can't.

If it turns out you know the other family well, that changes things and you'll know it. But a cold phone call as step one tends to be the thing a parent regrets.

What you can fix, and what you can't

Nobody can make another child invite her, and nobody can change who's on the roster or make a girl like your daughter or make your daughter stop hurting, which takes its own time and shouldn't be hurried with a pep talk. I'd skip "just ignore it" too. It sounds like advice and mostly teaches a child that telling you was a mistake.

What's left is smaller, and it does help, so keep one friendship alive somewhere outside that building, a cousin or a neighbor or someone from church who doesn't know the lunch table exists. Find the one thing she's already good at and give her more of it. Practice a single sentence with her, something short she can say out loud, like "Can I sit here?" or "I'm going to go find my teacher." And be at the door at 3:15 looking happy to see her, whatever face comes off the bus.

The priest and the Levite in the Good Samaritan story both saw the man and kept walking. The Samaritan did something a little different from seeing him:

But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him,
Luke 10:33

He came where the man was lying, which wasn't where it would have been easier to meet him. I think about that when a parent asks me what to say, because most of it is going where the child already is, a car seat or a bedtime or a porch step, and staying there a while.

When a principal asked me at Smith's whether I still had my license, part of what pulled at me was this, being the person at the front who notices the quiet kid. And Caleb's question about the new boy who eats lunch alone is the same thing seen from a sixth grader's tray.

Frequently Asked Questions

What if my child says nobody will sit with them at lunch?

Find out whether it was one day or all week, and where the empty seat actually was. Then tell the teacher or the lunch aide, in two or three sentences with dates. Don't wait for it to get worse.

Should I just tell my child to ignore it?

No. Ignoring it mostly lets it go on, and a child who's told to ignore it hears that you don't want to hear about it. Give her one sentence to say and one adult to walk toward.

How long should I wait before getting involved?

I'd watch a single bad day and act on a week of it, or on a child who doesn't want to go to school. If she says anything that frightens you about hurting herself, don't wait at all and call her doctor or a counselor that day.

Is it ever okay to talk to the other child's parents?

Sometimes, later, and usually after the school has had a chance. If you do, ask to talk first and open with "I think our girls are having a hard time" instead of a list of what theirs did.

Write down the dates and places and names your child has given you, and send the teacher two sentences with one request in them before Thursday. Then go sit with your daughter for a while.

with love, Melissa