By: Lisa Hartman
About ten minutes before I was set to pick up my son from middle school, my phone rang. He was in seventh grade, and I had noticed a change in him over the past few weeks. He had gone from being chatty and engaged to quiet and withdrawn. I tried to reach out, but he was a closed book. It felt like this shift happened overnight — one moment he was excitedly sharing stories, and the next, he was either stoic or moody. I attributed it to the tumult of puberty and kept asking him how he was doing, but I got nowhere.
So when I saw it was the school calling, I assumed it was something trivial. Maybe he had left behind a lunchbox? But it wasn’t trivial at all. It was the principal on the line, and her words sent me into shock: “Your son mentioned you would be here shortly to pick him up, but I need you to come to my office. He punched another student today and will face consequences. We need to discuss this.”
I was certain she must have mixed him up with another student. My son didn’t hit people; he never had. I’d never even received a hint of bad behavior from his teachers in his eight years of schooling. But, as it turns out, I was mistaken.
“He’s sitting here with me. I assure you he did punch someone. I can’t disclose who, but I can say it was provoked, and both boys will serve an in-house suspension tomorrow.” The drive to the school felt endless. My mind raced with panic. Should I consider homeschooling? Why did he hit someone? What was happening? What was I doing wrong? I felt like a failure at parenting.
I gripped the steering wheel so tightly that my hands ached as I rushed into the office. The moment I saw my son’s face, I had to suppress the urge to envelop him in my arms. He was fighting back tears — a boy who had grown taller than me and wore a size 10 shoe, yet still, my little boy.
I held back judgment until I heard the full story. When I asked whom he had hit, he mentioned the name, and everything fell into place. The boy he punched had been bullying him and his friends since kindergarten. I had witnessed this boy’s behavior firsthand back in second grade and intervened, much to my son’s embarrassment. The harassment didn’t stop, though. This bully would follow my son on the playground, mock his shoes, and discourage anyone who dared to befriend him. I would ask my son about it weekly, and he would confidently respond, “It doesn’t bother me, Mom. He doesn’t have any friends, which is why he’s mean.”
I spoke with teachers a few times, and while they assured me they were addressing the situation, my son never felt comfortable reporting the bully himself. He believed it wasn’t right to tattle. As long as his friendships, schoolwork, and self-esteem remained intact, I didn’t press further. I was proud of how he handled the situation.
Fast forward a couple of years filled with teenage hormones, and my son finally reached his breaking point. On that fateful day, the bully challenged him, saying, “You would never hit me.” In a moment of impulse, my son swung his fist. He later claimed he didn’t really remember hitting the boy; he just recalled the sound of impact.
I was relieved that no serious damage was done and that teachers were present to intervene. No one recorded it on their phones, and it didn’t escalate into a full-blown brawl, but it was enough to send my heart racing and make me question every parenting decision I had ever made.
That night, I cried and struggled to sleep, overwhelmed by so many thoughts: I want him to be a good person but not a pushover. I had been there for every scraped knee and sleepless night, but this was a whole new territory for me. While I don’t condone violence, I’ve always told my children they shouldn’t tolerate mistreatment. That day, my son felt compelled to take a stand in a way that the adults in his life hadn’t managed to do.
Since that incident, there have been no further altercations with the bully. In fact, they’ve become friends and moved past the entire situation. Perhaps that punch humbled the bully — I’m not entirely sure. What I do know is that my son is no longer tormented, nor are his friends, after years of harassment.
I consistently encourage my kids to communicate their feelings, seek help from adults, and use their words. Yet in this case, it was my son’s decisive action that finally put an end to the bullying. It gives me comfort to know he understands his limits and will defend himself when necessary. I no longer see myself as a bad mom with a violent child; instead, I feel like a proud mom with a great kid who is learning to navigate the complexities of the world.
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In summary, my son’s confrontation with his bully turned out to be a pivotal moment for both boys. What began as a troubling incident transformed into a new friendship, highlighting the complexities of growing up and standing up for oneself.