Kind Children

It is snowing, but that doesn't stop us; it doesn't even slow us down.  We are Utahns.  We fear no winter.

Swings, slides, seesaws all lure with a siren's call and we answer as only small children can - abandoned backpacks line up at the edge:  Rainbow Brite propped up against Bravestar, Jem and Optimus Prime waiting patiently as their owners indulge in early morning revelry.  We race, flipping over iced monkey bars, tottering across oversized tires.  We are circus acrobats, Olympic medalists, the world's greatest daredevils. We giggle and shout, shining with the exhileration of being young, cold, strong, alive.

Nobody notices the ball...the ball by the schoolroom door, the ball of faded blue cotton, the faded blue cotton of an old coat, the old coat covering a girl, the girl curled up so tight and so tiny that she looks...like a ball.  Nobody notices and she likes it that way.  She hugs her knees up to her chest, tucking in her worn tennies and pulling a thinned hood down hard like a shell.  Think invisible thoughts, she tells herself.  Think small.  Think still.

The flakes are fattening now, tenaciously sticking in our hair, clinging to their own mortality, reminding us of ours.  I pause my play to retrieve the purple mittens I'd ditched at the curb.  They offer little relief so I rub and blow at my fingertips.  It takes only a moment but its just enough to look around and notice.  The ball that's not a ball, the ball that's a coat, the coat that's a girl, the girl that's my friend.  Katie. I run over.

Katie and I sit across from each other in Mrs. Thurston's 3rd grade classroom.  Katie, with the soft voice and the kind smile and the lovely long brown hair.  Katie, who taught  me how to spell Mississippi. 

"Hi Katie!  Come climb the jungle gym with me." I say to the small, still ball.  Light blue eyes peek cautiously out of the shell.  "Oh hi Lauren," she whispers.  "I'm fine here."

"Katie, it's really not that cold when you run around and I wanted to show you my new trick and we can practice our states and capitals and the bell's gonna ring soon so we don't have much time." I always have a lot to say.

Katie does not move, but opens her mouth, preparing to protest but another child's voice speaks first.  "Lauren, come play jump rope with us!" yells Andrea from a few feet away.  I know Katie won't play - she never does - but I try one last time.

"Ooo, Katie - let's go jump rope!  That will warm you up for sure."  I hold out my mittened hand.  She purses rosebud lips together and shakes her head, shining eyes silently begging me to let her go back to being a ball.  It's too late.  Andrea is next to me now, talking as she arrives.

"We need you, Lauren!" she side eyes Katie. "But we only have room for one more person..." and all three of us know what is meant and why.  Katie has vanished under her shell again.  Andrea tugs my arm.  "We can take turns, " I argue, stubbornly forcing us all deeper into trouble.  "I want Katie to play too."

Andrea's 8-year-old patience reaches its limit.  She lowers her voice, but not nearly enough, and says "Why do you like her?  She smells and her clothes have holes and I heard," her voice drops again, still insufficiently, "that her dad's a polygamist."

The ball does not react.  This is old news to her.  This is why she is a ball - a small, still, invisible ball.  A ball has no feelings.  A ball doesn't care what kids say about it.  A ball can't hurt.

I, on the other hand, am at my very first crossroads.

Katie and I will find ourselves in situations like these frequently over the next two years.  Most of the time, I stay by her side.  Except when I don't, because every once in awhile the desire to be "liked" overwhelms the desire to be kind.  I'll admit to being proud of the fact that I was a friend to Katie when no one else was, but deeply ashamed of the fact that I wasn't always.  These are painful memories that have taught me about goodness in The Most Unlikely Places - goodness in doing hard, scary things, goodness in losing "friends", goodness in sitting next to someone on a snowy day.

This is Gabby.  This girl has been my sunshine for nine truly awesome years and I love her more than eating waffles with James McAvoy in Disneyland.  That's right - you heard me. A LOT more.

Gabby, along with her brothers, began attending a new school on Monday.  It's one of those think-outside-the-box places that believes in play and creativity and self-mastery and mutual respect.  She's going to rock it.  Though the thought of losing my sunshine for nine hours a day five days a week is crushing me, I'm super duper excited for her.  I'm also...nervous.  Will she feel joy?  Will she find fulfillment?  Will she remember the love waiting for her at home and will that make her happy when skies are gray?  Will she be treated with kindness and, and, and, so importantly...

Will She Be Kind?

When she sees "Katie" sitting alone, when she hears "Andrea" judge or exclude, when she encounters one of the many crossroads that all children face on the playground, the bus, in the lunchroom - when she has to choose between being kind and being liked what will she choose? 

Have we prepared our kids for those moments?  Do they know how hard it might be but how crucial it is that they choose kindness, inclusion and love over the flash of popularity?  Because it doesn't just matter to "Katie" - it matters to Gabby too.  As our children form their character by the experiences they encounter and the choices they make, it matters that they understand what true love for another human being looks like.  It matters that they know how their actions in those crossroad moments can either lift another up or hold them down.  And it matters that they know that those crossroad moments will either become personal badges of honor or painful scars.  Because the more they make one choice over the other, the easier that choice will become in the future.  Have we prepared our kids to make kind choices naturally or cruel choices comfortably?

We are having our Family Back-To-School Night this weekend and I'm stoked. We talk about our first week - teachers, new friends, hopes, worries, goals.  And we prepare to be kind, to be brave, to be the change we wish to see in the world.  I'm linking below the best resources I've found, in case you are looking for a way to have those important conversations about bullying, empathy, courage, choosing good friends and crossroad moments. I'm deeply grateful for for the wisdom of others and their willingness to share so that my family can benefit, your family can benefit, this world can benefit from children who know how to love.

Momastery: Have This Conversation Before You Send Your Baby Back To School

Huffington Post: Raise Nice Girls, Instead

Above Average: The Importance Of Kindness

NCPC: What To Teach Kids About Bullying