On Wednesday evening I came home after a long day of work and after a quick dinner my 7 year-old son burst into tears and said to me, “Ema, they made fun of the way I speak and they made fun of science!” “What do you mean?” I asked Daniel. And so he explained, “Today I told my friends that I don’t believe in God. They asked me, ‘If there is no God, then how was the world created?’ I told them that God did not create the world – the Big Bang happened and then there were molecules. My friends thought that I said there was a Big Bank and markers, not molecules!” And then his tears began to fall onto his recently completed homework sheet. When I asked him how he responded he reported repeating his theory multiple times, and then explaining it was “science.” To this, they apparently simply said, “science is weird” and continued to be unable to understand his complex theory, laughing at him and teasing him for saying there were “markers” rather than molecules. Now, my son has been receiving speech therapy since the time he was two years old and continues to work on his articulation up to this day. And so, we periodically confront those painful moments when he is not understood by his peers. But tonight he seemed to take this to heart in a way that I had not seen him before around this issue.
As Daniel completed his accounting of this incident his two older two sisters immediately swooped in, reassuring Daniel that the misunderstanding probably occurred because his friends didn’t understand and didn’t know the word “molecule” yet, reminding him that they were only in first grade! My daughters began to role play with him, saying “Daniel, I will pretend to be your friends, you be you. What could you say if they made fun of you again?” Daniel could only continue to repeat his efforts to make himself understood, saying the word molecule in as clear a way as he possibly could. Finally my daughter Emma said, “Maybe you need to try to find something to say back to them – something that makes a joke or makes them leave you alone. Daniel, why don’t you just tell them that maybe their hearing is the problem?” Well, this made Daniel burst into tears again as he explained, “how can you say that? That would hurt my friends’ feelings?! Just because they hurt my feelings doesn’t mean we should be rude to my friends. They will feel bad!”
There are so many thoughts that swim through my head after an incident like this. My initial reaction is to go and beat up those children who hurt my little boy’s feelings! How dare they make fun of him for a challenge which he has worked so hard to improve? But once I was able to quiet the mother lion in me, I was struck by the poignancy of this experience. On the one hand, I am aware that helping our children to accept their strengths and weaknesses is a big part of our job as parents. Math is easy for Daniel, speaking clearly has not been as easy. We continue to work on those things that are challenging and celebrate their strengths too. This is easy to say, so much harder to actually do. Wouldn’t it be easier if I could somehow magically fix Daniel’s articulation? Bring in a new expert or more therapy to make him better? But when we speak about all people being born in the divine image, all born perfect with their imperfections, I remind myself that this includes embracing these blemishes. It means really saying, my son would not be the same person were he to have been born without these struggles.
I also reflect on Daniel’s response to his sister’s proposal to fight back, to say something sharp as a possible defense against his friends. Daniel was able, amidst his own pain and hurt, to still stay clear about protecting his friends’ feelings. He had a sense that lashing out was not the best response to the situation. I believe that Daniel had this exquisite perspective not in spite of but rather because of his own challenges. He has experienced moments of hurt, moments of being made fun or made small by the stinging quips of his friends. And through his own handling of these situations he has and will continue to develop sturdy muscles of empathy, compassion and kindness.
At the end of the evening we were not able to find him a perfect response to his friends. We were not able to solve the problem of our larger world’s incapacity to accept and honor people’s differences. But I was able to look into Daniel’s eyes, as I held him in my lap, and honestly say, “The world is so, so lucky to have you in it! You are a sweet and gentle boy and your friends are so lucky to have you as their friend. And I, I am lucky to have you as my son.”
Shabbat Shalom.
Ilana received her B.A. from Harvard College and a Master's Degree in Education from Bank Street College. She was born and raised on the Upper West Side of Manhattan and now lives there with her husband and three children.
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