Do Something-ers

In second grade we had a “Science Day.”  We got to take a break from our regularly scheduled programming and travel room to room with packs of other second graders to perform different science experiments with parent volunteers.  I don’t remember much else from that day except the stickers we wore after going to the “Space Room.”

In the Space Room one of our tasks was to convert our weight on earth to what we would weigh on the moon.  I remember this vividly because after weighing in and calculating our new weight we were given these little stickers where the parent volunteer had written our weight on earth and our weight on the moon.  In second grade I didn’t yet have weight shame, so I don’t remember what my number was or being particularly concerned about it.

I do remember a boy named Seth’s tag.  Seth was a big kid, the biggest in the class, and word spread quickly that Seth weighed over a hundred pounds.  We all knew this, of course, because poor Seth had to walk around for the rest of the day sporting a sticker that revealed the thing that made him different from all the rest.

I remember kids talking about it.  Remember the way this news spread like wildfire throughout the second grade.  And I remember what Roger did.

Roger was the least popular kid in second grade.  He was a nose picker, and a glue eater.  He had ADHD before it was the super diagnosed disorder it is today and we knew because he told everyone.  Constantly.  He was the target of every mean trick and cruel game grade school kids are so adept at playing.  The kind of kid who mistook any attention as good attention, Roger often seemed to egg on his attackers.  He never appeared all that bothered by the teasing; rather at times he almost welcomed it.  You felt really bad for Roger but at the same time, it was hard to stick up for him when he picked his nose and flung boogers at you.

At any rate, at some point during Science Day Roger switched tags with Seth.  Roger walked around with a tag that screamed “heavy kid” and Seth wore the one with a more typical second grader weight.  When asked why he switched, Roger denied doing so.  “What?” he’d say.  “This is my tag.”

Despite his attempts to come across as unscarred by the years of torment, I think Roger was a kid who knew how much it hurt to be the target.  And so, in one of the most profound acts of compassion I’ve ever witnessed among grade schoolers, he took Seth’s target.  And wore it proudly. 

I’ve thought about this story today for some reason.  As I raise my own little people I think about Roger.  I certainly don’t want Monster or Toots to bear the burden of being the kid picked on all the time.  I don’t ever want them to be the odd man out, the last kid picked or the only one sitting at a lunch table.  I don’t want them to be the targets of cruel jokes or mean comments.

I do, however, want them to be like Roger.  I want them to be do-something-ers.

In grade school and middle school I was not an alpha dog.  I wasn’t confident or popular enough to be mean.  I didn’t pick on the Rogers of the playground and, when no one was looking, I was usually very kind to them.  But I was painfully, compulsively driven by a need to fit in, to be liked, to not be the target of ridicule.  So while I wasn’t cruel, I also wasn’t good.  I didn’t want to risk becoming one of the teased by putting my neck out for someone in trouble.  I was a do-nothing-er.  I didn’t hurt, but I didn’t help.

I don’t want this for my kids.  I want Monster to be the kind of boy who willingly, happily takes the target off another kids back and wears it on his own.  I want Toots to be so sure of her worth that she’s free to do something, anything, to stand up compassionately for her peers.  I want them to be do-something-ers. 

It was easy for me to stand by.  Too easy.  But as an adult I have so many regrets about standing by.  I can remember distinctly the times I didn’t do something when I could have, when I should have.  My kids are little, and I’m not quite sure how to raise them to be empathetic do-something-ers.  I’m paying attention, asking questions and trying to praise that behavior when I see it. 

Imagine what would happen if we all raise a generation of do-something-ers…