...it starts with, "Mark is just fine. Please don't worry, he's okay, but..."
That's the call I got yesterday. Mark, in fact, was okay, though his friend Kyle wasn't so lucky.
Mark, Kyle and another kid, Nathan, were goofing around in the bathroom at school yesterday. They were slamming the entrance door, which then popped the exit door open. They were having a blast right up until Kyle stood in the doorway while Nathan slammed the door. Instead of popping open, the door popped Kyle. Just above the eye, winning him a free trip to the hospital for stitches.
Technically, Mark was not completely involved. He wasn't the injured party, or the injurer, and thought he'd get off scot-free based on those two facts.
Yes, Mark has a flawed sense of justice, which I attribute to his age. But with apologies to Aretha Franklin, she needs a new song for my son -- called "R-E-S-P-O-N-S-I-B-I-L-I-T-Y."
And so Mark and I had a little heart-to-heart talk. At first, he was just scared for Kyle, and got a little teary. I understood that, and consoled him.
Then I explained that while no, Mark didn't actually push the door, that didn't leave him innocent, as he believed. He was a willing accomplice, he was just lucky enough not to be on either side of the door at the time of the accident.
"But it could just as easily have been you," I reminded him. "You were still an accomplice."
I thought he understood that, but he proved me wrong a couple hours later. He agreed to write an apology letter to Ms. Lyndsi, who's in charge of the afterschool care.
"What's Ms. Lyndsi's j ob?" I prodded.
"To keep us safe," Mark answered. Good, maybe this wouldn't take so long after all, I thought!
"And what happens when you guys goof off, and someone gets hurt?" I asked.
"Then Ms. Lyndsi is not doing her job," he answered, and he started writing, "I am sorry you did not do your job."
"Wait, wait!" I told him. "This is about your actions, not Ms. Lyndsi's. She was doing her job, but you weren't helping her. That's what you're sorry about."
He finally got the note written. I breathed a sigh of relief and we moved on to a letter to Kyle.
Which read, "Dear Kyle, sorry you got hurt when NATHAN hit you with the door."
This was gonna be a tough lesson. "Stop blaming everybody else!" I told him. "This is about you. Take responsibility for your actions."
"But I didn't push the door!" he yelled.
I thought about it for a moment, until the light bulb went on. "Remember at Scout camp the other day, when the Scout master said not to do anything dangerous?" I asked.
He nodded.
"And what did he say to do if somebody else was doing something dangerous?"
"He said tell them to stop, because it's not safe," he said.
"Right!" I exclaimed. "Did you tell Nathan and Kyle to stop?" He shook his head. "Did you stop, or walk away because it wasn't safe?" He shook his head again.
"Then you didn't do your part," I ended. "You were misbehaving, and you didn't stop yourself or your friends from doing something unsafe. The only difference is that you didn't push the door or catch the door."
I took a deep breath. Sometimes it's hard being so wise. ;-)
It took another half hour, but finally Mark finished the two letters. I had to remind him multiple times to apologize for his actions, not other people's shortcomings, but finally he finished. He took responsibility for making Ms. Lyndsi's job difficult, and for messing around in the bathroom.
Dang, who knew parenting could be so hard? I forgot that instilling values and responsibility is not a one-time lesson, but rather something that must be instilled and then repeated. Many times. Many, MANY times.
I am soooo not looking forward to lessons during Mark's teenage years!
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