Are you the parent of a cyberbully?

Come on hands up  do you really know what your kids are saying online? Can you honestly say you know what they are doing? What they are posting? Do you even know if your kid's online or not?
I didn't know my eldest was online.
I didn't know he was on Instagram.
I didn't know he'd got himself into a situation - one that was rapidly becoming toxic.
For heck's sake he's only 10!
I thought I was being so clever. I thought I had it all under control. I had given him an iPod what, two years ago... I had it so that it was essentially registered to me and anything he added to it would always show up on my account and on my iPad.
I had the usual buying apps without asking, sneaking face time with Granny  at 10pm on a school night, playing games when he should have been doing homework/sleeping/getting ready for school but I had not had him actually on-line for real.
But things change...
At the end of last term The Boy's two best mates left the school and while I was concerned I knew he'd be fine. He gets on with everyone.
What I had not expected was that he'd start to try too hard in an effort to fit in and be accepted. So last week  they were all off on a day trip and during the bus journey there the kid persuaded him to join Instagram. Of course he was flattered and everyone gave him their tags and he started to follow them all. He watched what they did and tried to join in. But he doesn't  really know the etiquette and made a classic blunder.
He tagged a whole load of kids when he uploaded a photo of himself with his fingers pointing like a gun at his head. He didn't realise he should have pout a witty one liner caption on the photo or that he possibly should not have tagged all and sundry.
The first response was why did you tag me, then there was another why, then a child said the photo was the most cringeworthy photo they had ever seen, the next was about perhaps The Boy wanted to kill them, there were a whole load more who kept asking why were they tagged. There were a lot of blank/angry/puzzled emoticons and The Boy was overwhelmed and did not understand. He said he came in peas and got a more grief for poor spelling.
Basically the situation started to go toxic and The Boy brooded. Kept  stealing looks at the comments trying to figure out what he had done wrong. And it was when he stole the iPod on evening that I caught him and found out what was going on. Found out that I had had no idea that he was online.
I don't think the kids he was online to really understood that they were taking things out of proportion or how much hurt they cased. It was a kind of pack mentality - but we know that it has to start somewhere. And for me this is a wake up call.
If half the parents realised what their kids were saying and doing online I very much doubt that half the children would be allowed.
I told the school to watch my son; I have taken him off Instagram until he can handle it. I am never going to get complacent again...
My approach now is three pronged.
School - when they talk about Cyberbullying and what you should do to make yourself safe online I suggested that they also talk about how to behave online.
The Boy - I am going to organise for him to be taught (along with me and his father) how to use Instgram/Twitter etc and how to behave online and what to do when faced with problems such as this, how to report bad behaviour and also how to minimise damage caused.
Parents - I am going to ask that worst question in the world that any parent can be asked: Is your Child a Cyberbully? Are they or could they be part of a pack that sends another child over the edge? Do you know what your children are saying/doing online? And the biggest of all: if you don't know why not!!!!!

Bringing up Boys: when being thick skinned is a virtue

The other day I was at a friend's house, just for a catch up, a bit of company. It was the middle of the week and for some unknown reason I got the feeling we weren't exactly welcomed with open arms. I felt kind of guilty for foisting myself on them all when we were all probably a little tired.

Now my friend has two lovely boys, one a bit older than The Boy and one in the same class. Of course they all wanted to travel back in the same car from school but there was only room for three not enough room for Bog Boy, not that the older lot wanted him there. So in order to be fair I suggested that we split the boys up. Mr Friends boys didn’t want to go in HER (i.e. my) car and in order to stop a fight between my boys I hoicked the elder out and we all went in our own separate vehicles.

On arrival at my Friend’s house we all bundled out and trooped in, me telling the boys to find the other two and play while I anticipated a good old girly chat. However, of the other two boys there was no sign; they’d gone off playing elsewhere. A none too subtle hint that we weren’t wanted.

I told the boys not to worry and that if the other two didn’t want to play with them never mind, watch a bit of TV until they came back. I was a bit annoyed to tell the truth as I felt it rude. I longed to go home there and then but I’d promised to buy a take away for supper as a treat for all of us...

The Boy’s class mate came back and soon they were all happily playing on the Wii. Bog Boy came in to the kitchen demanding cakes for tea and we iced some buns and made a cheesecake as he drifted in and out.

When it was time to go and get the take-away, we decided to use my car and after a bit of: “No way not in HER car!” we all bundled in with S9YO, my friends eldest mollified by being allowed to sit in the front while his mum squashed in the back with the rest –all very sick parrot.

I think I tried too hard to engage S9YO and there is nothing worse, is there than a grown up trying too hard. Problem is I couldn’t help myself I needed to get this boy on side but I forget how young he is, only 9. You can’t reason with a 9 year old or try to get him onside if he is determined not to allow it for one minute. There were one or two chinks but they were swiftly closed up and the butt of the anger and frustration being felt was directed at Bog Boy, the youngest.

Bog Boy is nothing if not thick skinned, would that I was too, and the cross words and sarcastic comments seemed to go over his head. Any complaint about him was directed not to me but to S9YO’s mother as if I was not there. And Bog Boy’s name was never used, just the euphemism HE. I loathed it and said things like do you mean Bog Boy? as innocently as I could, while bearing up under the frankly haughty gaze of a nine year old.

Supper was OK, but strained and afterwards I hoped that all would be well. I so longed for a chat. However things that I thought were going well patently were not. Having a nearly five year old tag after one is not tolerated even for a few hours and the evening was cut slightly short by a tearful wail from my youngest.

It wasn’t until yesterday that I found out why. Bog Boy had been put in a wardrobe to get rid of him; I gather he thought it was a game. His elder brother knew different. I was shocked and have promised myself that I will not get Bog Boy in that situation again. He’s not unduly upset by it, but I am. I am very aware of the slights and nuances of dislike and have no wish in making it worse for either The Boy or Bog Boy. Best we are looked on in a favourable light and our visits anticipated with good humour than I ever force a meeting that is quite obviously resented.

It’s a small incidence that shouldn’t make a hap’porth of difference but it does. I feel very uneasy….why didn’t my youngest say anything? How could my eldest let it happen? Apart from nearly going off in the deep end when I heard last night I haven’t and I won’t be mentioning it again. Maybe it’s a boy thing?

Bullying: The truth and nothing but...

What happens if what you are told is not the truth you thought it was?
I am in a quandary for I cannot seem to work out truth from untruth. What I thought I had heard from The Boy I may not have. And me mentioning it has caused allsorts of ripples.
But there again I did ask the school what to do and didn’t seem to get an answer that tallied. It left me very confused and feeling dreadful that I should have caused anyone unnecessary upset.
So I ask you what is bullying and what is just teasing? When can children work out the difference? I am afraid it’s not going to be a black and white answer is it?
And then there is the fact that I am questioning the veracity of what my son is saying to me. For some people children have no concept of the truth and are therefore liars at every turn unable to tell fiction from fact. For others the opposite is true to the extent that they are blind to it.
To be honest I don’t quite see what my son has to gain from lying. But there again there is the niggling feeling that having got my attention in this way he likes it and realises he can keep it by in effect stoking the boiler of my moral outrage.
There has been a lot of talk going on in the household and some of it has bound to have been overheard. I notice I am having to ask The Boy to remove himself to the playroom or else physically checking in on his whereabouts before I speak.
Where once that would not have mattered, nowadays it is more difficult. We are in a place of transition with our eldest and trying to tie in that, and our natural concern for his welfare, is causing me to get extremely confused.
I do not like thinking that my son is lying to me but at the same time I really don’t think he is: I mean he can’t be with something this important: can he?
Perhaps there is a middle ground? A place where he is telling the truth but only as he sees it. I have spoken to him several times about the importance of telling the truth and I know he knows that I doubt him. He tries to make what he says more palatable by slightly changing the story but although I know he is only trying to help, it just leaves me doubting more.
I keep saying I just what facts just what happened but the telling of a story depends from whose perspective you take. Regarding the play fighting issue in the loos before lunch last week, it turns out there was in fact another boy as witnesses, a point The Boy had failed to mention. When I came back to this he said that of course they would all stick together as the other boy was best friends with the one who was play wrestling and he would stick up for his friend wouldn’t he? It is all so plausible. The numbers tend to sway one don’t they?

Bullying: Being a Prize Idiot

 The Boy said he didn’t want to go to school last night. I really did not know what to say and so in desperation suggested perhaps it would be nice to see his special friends. He said he didn’t want to play with anyone and anyway no one would want to play with him.
I just wanted to burst into tears.

The litany of minor pettiness goes on and I can quite see why my eldest has no wish to go to school. He’s told me that he can’t play with certain boys even if Effy isn’t playing with them himself because when he does Effy comes over and he has to leave. But it seems Effy isn’t even satisfied with that. When The Boy and his friend were playing “Power Rangers” Effy ran past and said they were babyish.

If The Boy proudly announces that his Grandpa lets him help clean his shotgun after a days shooting Effy must say his father’s is better or his grandfathers is, or that he has his own gun. It seems that at every given opportunity The Boy is being put down.

On Friday I found out that Effy is even making sure that all the teachers know when The Boy does something wrong by drawing their attention to it. There was the incident in the loo just before lunch where the Boy, Effy and one other had gone to wash their hands etc. The Boy said he and the other landed up play wrestling to see who was the stronger. Effy said he’d tell the teacher that they were fighting. The teacher asked what had happened and the other said that he had accidentally banged past The Boy and that The Boy had then thumped him. Unfortunately when the teacher asked The Boy he gave two contradictory answers. Probably I would have done too by being flustered. But there again Effy said what the other had said was true – the awful thing is perhaps it was. But, and there is a but here, my boy isn’t aggressive like that. Bog Boy my youngest would hit back but not my eldest.

It was a one off incidence I thought. But the following day The Boy was, by his own admission grumpy and during Singing did not join in. Effy immediately brought it to the teacher’s attention luckily she told Effy to stop being a Tattle Tale and as far as the rest of the day went it seemed without incident.

He is perceptive and knows something is not quite right. I glean as much as I can from passing comments rather than immediately launching into what has Effy done today. He volunteers a lot many of it unconsciously because as he keeps telling me he does not want to get Effy into trouble. As far as The Boy is concerned although I am talking to the teachers, I haven’t identified anyone. I feel awful hat I have broken that trust.

It would be good if the effects of the bullying were just at school. But they are not. Behaviour that I had put down as him being tired, being a small boy etc or even attributed to his epilepsy I find fit the behaviour of a child that is being bullied. And it has been going on for ages. His inability to stop wetting his bed, his weepiness, his moodiness and lack of confidence. I am a prize idiot for not putting two and two together. For my naivety that because he is at a private school with small classes that he would be better protected against this sort of thing when in fact I believe the worse to be true.

I have SO let him down.

I promise I am going to get this sorted and I pray I do it right. II have found the most marvellous website so for any of you whoever have to go through this. Go here first: http://www.beatbullying.org

Bullying: You're not going to like what I have to say

“You’re not going to like what I have to say.”

I remained quiet to let him speak.

The Boy stared out the window pensive as if collecting his thoughts.

“Effy was horrid to me again today.”

My heart sank. Not AGAIN.

“Tell me what happened?”

“Well he huffed at me all the time and said I was slow in a baby voice.”

Nothing really to get wound up about is it? But when it happened every day and has been happening for weeks before Christmas you get the idea that Effy has a problem and seems to be taking it out on The Boy.

In fact a few weeks before the end of last term I had had a conversation about Effy’s behaviour with The Boy after he had said that Effy had hurt him and that he had taken to preventing The Boy and his best friend from playing on the bar by shaking it until they had fallen off. But it wasn't just Effy there were other incidences.

There had also been the incident about Golden Time – that precious 20 minutes at the end of a Friday when the children are allowed to do anything they want. The Boy had been hurt and was going to tell the teacher but the culprit had warned The Boy that if he did tell then The Boy would lose Golden Time as well, as the culprit would claim The Boy had hurt him too. Bit of an impasse there.

I accept that at school as in life there are strong personalities and weaker ones, those prone to bullying/picking on behaviour and those too eager to please. But in a school there should be a zero tolerance on this sort of behaviour. It is NOT acceptable.

At a small school where there are only 30 children in the playground full stop then there is no excuse for not noticing.

When it was first brought to my attention I asked The Boy what he wanted to do. Did he want me to tell the teachers? He was reluctant. I suggested I e-mail them without saying who culpritswere so that no one would get into trouble. He thought about it for a night and the next morning said he’s like me to tell the teachers because it wasn’t just him who was having trouble. So I told the acting head teacher and his class teacher and thought: job done.

It’s never that simple is it?

Over the Christmas holidays The Boy stayed with his Granny in Yorkshire and had by all accounts a wonderful time. He also talked to Granny, and talked and talked.

He wanted to know what a “Nancy Boy” was, and when asked why said that he was being called “Nancy Boy” by Effy. By turns over the next few weeks we learned a lot.

The Boy was not only being called names, he was being physically pushed around, intimidated and ridiculed and it had been going on for ages.

Yesterday as we drove into Ipswich on a quest for a new washing machine; I asked how the day had gone, knowing that the children had all had a talk about why it is important to be nice to each other by the head teacher.

Him, a bit hesitantly: It was Ok.

Me: Just OK?

Him: Well it was Ok until Effy put a hoop over my head even though I didn’t like it.

Me: He put a hoop over you?

Him: Yes he put a hoop round my neck in PE

Didn’t the teacher see?

No he did it when she wasn’t looking

Did you say to Effy to stop it?

No

Why not

He would just keep doing it

Darling you must stand up for yourself. You must tell people if they do something you don’t like or else how do they know?

But I do

But you didn’t today did you?

It’s very difficult.

No it’s not all you have to say very loudly is Effy stop it I don’t like it or Effy go away or Effy leave me alone. Nice and loud and he’ll soon get the picture especially if lots of people see him doing it and being told that you don’t like it. Come on practice it now with me.

And we did but he soon got quiet again

I’m scared

Oh darling I know you are scared but if you don’t pretend to be brave and stand up to him he’s going to keep doing it and you don’t want that do you?

I just want him to be my friend

I know you do but sometimes friends drift apart darling, sometimes they say horrid things and do horrid things for no apparent reason.

Did that happen to you?

Oh he’s a perceptive soul. I said yes that it had happened to me and he wanted to know more so I told him how A and I fell out, how she’d written in her diary how silly and childish I was and how she’d deliberately left it out for me to read. It was classic girl stuff – indirect but effective and no one could be held responsible but the victim herself. I said that sometimes friends were no longer friends but that perhaps over time they could eventually be friends again.

When will the real Effy come back?

I don’t know darling I just don’t know.