The Bigger Bully

Hammy used to be a bright, shining star of popularity when we lived in Nebraska. He was invited to all the birthday parties and had lots of friends. He was happy and friendly and cool. Then we moved.

It was hard for him to move. He had to start over, make new friends and go to a new school. That's never easy for a kid to do, and it's even less easy when he wasn't used to moving. I moved a lot in my early elementary years, so it didn't seem like a big deal to me. I handled it, so I figured he would handle it too.

He did, but not so easily. We didn't move into a military community here, so the kids in school weren't used to other kids coming and going. Friendships were well-established, and it was harder to be the new kid than it was for me. I grew up in a town where the majority of the kids at school moved every three years. John grew up here where there isn't a military base within 100 miles and kids make friends for life. John still has friends from elementary school. I don't even keep friends from high school or college.

I wasn't a very good coach for Hammy because of my background. I left him to his likeability and outgoing personality. He did fairly well. He made some friends. He bonded with another new boy who moved into the area that year. He invited almost everyone from his class to his birthday party. I thought he was fine.

Maybe the problems he has were bound to happen anyway. He doesn't have the coolest clothes. He always forgets to brush his hair in the morning, much less style it like some of the other boys his age. He is overly sensitive like he's always been. He's not very athletic and tends to be a little clumsy. He plays trombone in band. And most of all, he's smart. This is not a recipe for popularity. I don't believe it's a recipe for geekdom either, but again, my background is entirely different.

I came from a school where the band was the only thing that won anything. Cool kids were in the band. The class presidents from every year I attended high school came out of the band. Cheerleaders were in band. Band was cool. It wasn't until later that I realized band was the epitome of uncool everywhere else. I never had problems because I was in band. I was elected to the Senior Senate. I wasn't what I'd call popular, but I certainly wasn't a geek either. I dated a very popular guy who was also in band. Our school was a rarity that appreciated the band for being able to put trophies in the case when none of the sports teams could even win games. Our basketball team won only one game my senior year.

The school system Hammy is in has excellent sports teams, some of the best in the state. This does not bode well for him. I don't think band is cool here. Coolness isn't what I'm going for with Hammy though. He enjoys playing, and I think it's good for him. I think music is very important. The problem isn't being in band; it's that he doesn't appear to have the personality to overcome teasing that might come from being in band. And that goes for overcoming teasing for anything. He doesn't have enough cool to outweigh the uncool, and as he gets older and kids get more socially vicious, he's going to have more teasing.

This whole subject comes up because Hammy is being picked on by some eighth graders while he's walking to and from school. It's traditional name-calling, snowball throwing, stick hitting, backpack stealing bullying. They wait for Hammy and his friend and chase them almost every day. Hammy comes home with mud on his pants from being pushed down or snow in his hair from being pummeled. I thought this was an opportunity for him to learn to stand up for himself and told him so. But as is typical with bullies, they just saw that as an excuse to get worse. They threw his backpack up in a tree yesterday and then followed him home.

I was waiting at the door for him, because the day before yesterday was bad too. He was nailed with snowball after snowball on his head that day and came home and cried to me. The crossing guard even stopped me to ask if he was okay after it happened. She was worried about him. So yesterday I debated whether to walk up and meet him in the Arboretum where most of the bullying was taking place, but I ended up staying home, thinking my presence would only make things worse. When I saw him, I went to the door, and I saw the two older boys walking a few yards behind Hammy with another boy Hammy's age. They were a good third taller than Hammy, probably my height or taller, and I could hear them yelling at him before I opened the door.

I was furious at this point. I flung the door open and stood on the porch with my arms crossed as Hammy came up the stairs and into the house. The boys all got quiet and refused to look at me as I stared them down. I resisted the urge to scream at them or even walk down to them and push them down the way the pushed my son or steal their backpacks and throw it in the piles of dog poop I have yet to pick up in the yard. I was that angry. After they passed our yard, I went in the house, and I saw them look back at me through the big dining room window, but they turned away quickly when they realized I was still glaring at them.

I had already resolved to intervene in some way before I saw them following Hammy home, but once they did that, I knew I had to take action. These kids are big and threatening. They went out of their way to follow Hammy home. They pushed too far, and now they are going to deal with me. The crossing guard near where these things happen doesn't do anything about it, even though she's seen a lot of it. I'm not really sure what to do just yet, but I will talk to her, the school and the parents of the other boy. I am going to meet Hammy in the Arboretum for at least a couple days. If I have to, I'll talk to them too. They might be as big as I am, but I'm smarter and angrier and a mother. I'm not sensitive and scared like Hammy is, and this is a relatively quiet, small borough. I'm not tangling with a gang here. It's just two eighth grade bullies who probably got picked on when they were in sixth grade from the looks of them.

Maybe my presence at the door and glare was all they needed. I would like to think so, but I'm realistic. I know they will push as far as they can and give Hammy hell for running to mommy. It takes everything I have not to wait for them as they walk home from school and bully them the way they've bullied my son. The momma bear in me wants to threaten them and scare them too. They and I both know I'm higher up on the food chain, but exploiting that probably won't be a long-term solution. It usually only breeds more hostility.

Hammy will have to stand his ground in the end. I can back him up and let those boys know there will be consequences if they push too far, but I can't guard Hammy all the time. He has to learn to deal with these things and toughen up a little. But he can also know I am there to protect him when he's outmatched.

It's pathetic that these two boys who are so much bigger than Hammy and his friend feel the need to pick on them. It's unfair and cowardly. In a way, I feel sorry for them, but not sorry enough to keep myself from kicking both of their asses if they don't back down. I have been doing my Tae-Bo after all, and Billy himself told me I have good kicks.

I won't really beat up on a couple of thirteen-year-olds, but they don't have to know that, do they?