"Where the Wild Things Are"

I had dropped him off in the wrong spot that morning. I had not given the decision much thought. Why would I? He was in grade 6, at a new school. What trouble could possibly be lurking there, that early in the morning, at an elementary school? Had I been paying attention, I would have seen them.

They stood tall, these five strangers, all banding together, like soldiers, on guard, against a common enemy, waiting for him and the bus that would take them to their secondary school. No one was bothering them. Why couldn't they have accorded him the same respect and left him alone? Was this a test of skill? But maturity would have no part in what they were about to do. That would have been too easy, an adult thing to do. But why had I not seen what was brewing? (A parent's job is to anticipate.) ... Had I driven a bit further along the curve of the driveway entrance of the school, the confrontation would have surely been avoided and the threat, passed. ... Why had I not figured it out, sooner? ... Why, indeed.

Our son walked briskly towards this menacing group of teens, all preparing, perhaps, to unsettle the day of this innocent little guy. ... I drove to the end of the paved driveway, in front of the main office entrance, to bear witness to this act of aggression or tomfoolery. I sat in my parked car, watching ever so disquietly in the direction of the group whose intentions were slowly becoming clear. 

 

They began to separate into two clearly defined rows of 'well-wishers', waiting for their prey to appear. My gaze remained rigidly still, not wanting to lose sight of what was happening in front of me. ... He was my son, after all. His safety and well being were uppermost in my mind and my responsibility. I watched and waited.

They all glowered towards their first act of the day: encroaching on the life of my little boy, a stranger to them, while he simply did what he did everyday: walk towards the rear of the school to play. Everything  would soon change. A mom had been watching them. 'John' walked through the gauntlet I had unknowingly created for him. He was their perfect target, I now could see.  

 

'John' was young, carefree, innocent, oblivious to confrontation, a compliant citizen, and inexperienced in life, in summary, a perfect victim!  They were bored and looking for fun. Spontaneity was a part of their game-plan. As John walked through the line-up, I motioned him to come to the car, as I remained inside, ever so vigilant of the parameters of this unsavory event. Like the personable little guy he always was, he smiled at me. “What did they say to you, John?”, I asked. And so he began, replying as quickly as possible before bouncing off towards the back of the school to play. As I raised the side passenger window to its rightful place, while turning off the car's ignition, I could hear John say, “I'm getting out of here”, as he sprinted to the back of the school. 

 

He knew mom so well. The repercussions of this 'simple' act of aggression were not going to go away, he realized immediately. Mom did not endorse misdirected behaviour from anyone, including him. Mommy coddled no one. Everyone was responsible for their own actions, regardless of age or time of day! This  simple act of treachery would not go unnoticed.

 

I got out of the car and began the short walk to the 'boys of the band', stepping firmly on the driveway pavement in my walking heels, instead of gingerly on the beautifully cut soft grass directly in front of us. I wanted them to hear the crisp clear sounds of footsteps coming towards them. This would be the preamble to the main event, like the overture in a symphony. Their 'innocent' little rant was not going away. Someone had to defend little children, after all.  It was now my turn to step up to the plate. ...

As I approached these foolish boys, it was becoming apparent to them that something was about to happen. They stared. They knew. “Which one of you called my son a retard?” I asked, knowing there would be no answer to my question. Silence was their best bet, they collectively knew. Any lawyer would tell them that. As their facial skin pallor began to deepen to a crimson red, I realized, immediately, they had done the deed. Where was this all going, they were probably thinking?

Embarrassment and guilt manifested themselves, on each boy, as I spoke. ... The exact words were unimportant. But the tone and gist of the one-way conversation were clear. "Should a confrontation with another student occur in the future, on school property, I would inform the authorities of today's event. No child should be made to feel vulnerable while simply being a child", I warned them. "Would you want this done to your younger brother, sister or family friend? You have been given a privilege by being allowed to wait on school property for your bus, I reminded them. ... You just might lose the privilege of waiting here for your bus altogether should the principals, from all schools involved, hear from me. All children need to be protected from this sort of thing, not just my child". 

 

Bearing witness to a small act of aggression demanded action. To simply stand by and do nothing was to possibly give these silly boys permission to continue their harassment of little children and perhaps, kick it up a notch. It was not a reign of terror, yet. But it could very well be, someday. Things can and do escalate. Confrontation by a witness was mandated.  It was now my #1 priority on this early weekday morning to-do-list. ...

I looked into the eyes of these foolish 'older' boys. It took 5 of their collective courage and genius to verbally 'assault' a carefree innocent who was simply walking on school property while minding his own business. I was not amused and they knew it. A small crowd of little people had gathered on the fringes of our meeting. Other children were watching a five-foot mom confront big tall boys about something. They could not hear. My lecture was forthright, to the point, understated. These boys had been caught with their hands in the proverbial 'cookie jar'! Was I looking into the eyes of evil of the future?

 

'For evil to flourish all it takes is for good people to do nothing', so goes the saying of Edmund Burke. Had the boys not looked down on 'innocence', that morning, we would not have met. These were not evil people. They were simply immature boys - adults-in-training - testing the theory of freedom of speech, beyond an acceptable mandate, in a public forum. But I am sorry, fellas, but the playing field was not equal and you knew it. There was no confusion, here. 

 

"What were you thinking?" But then, you weren't, were you?" A stranger, spoke to you like a mother whose children had misbehaved, in a most unseemly boorish, potentially dangerous manner. These potential saboteurs needed a fresh look at what they had done. Unbeknownst to them, someone had been watching. I drove away a bit wiser, more hopeful of the future. I hoped they did, too.