So I went to pick up my daughter from Sunday School, and I look in and she's playing Candyland by herself, with all the enthusiasm of someone waiting for a root canal. Now this is not normal, she's normally running and playing in the gymnasium with the rest of the kids-burning off energy while waiting for the parents. They call her name, she looks up and comes over making sure not to touch anyone else while she's leaving.
"What's wrong?" "Nothing - I wanna go"
On the ride home, she let her mom know that nobody wanted to play with her. Her two buddies that are normally there weren't there, and the other kids don't get her - and really have nothing to do with her. She exists, they exists, but ne'er the twain shall meet. She was nearly in tears the whole ride home, and as a Dad - I wanted to scoop her up, reassure her, say things like "their loss, it's ok, we love you, it's gonna be all right."
But it's not. It most assuredly is not all right.
I thought back to my childhood, where I had 3 kids roughly my own age within a mile radius of my house, and we played together because I walked to their house, not because they came to mine. We played together because of a lack of other kids to play with. I played baseball with the nearest boy because he loved baseball, and I didn't care a fig about it. But if we didn't play baseball - there wasn't a reason for him to play with me. There was a girl further along who I would ride bikes with, and we'd talk and play various things, but again - we made it work simply because there weren't any other options.
In grade school, I had maybe 1-2 kids I would hang out with, in high school there were 3 in my grade who mostly understood me, and I understood them - and I probably had 8 friends in total over all the grades. Now I had good (or at least cordial) relationships with most all my classmates - but there's a difference between ' good relationships' and 'friends'. (Which is something Facebook really needs to learn, but that's a different rant). My classmates knew that being around me, they had someone who could elevate their work and improve their grades and overall critical thinking. But when it came to time to just hang out and visit -- be real about who we were and what we were about -- only a slim handful were in my corner - who understood me well enough to want to spend time with me. When I've listened to my wife talk over the years about her school life, the story is quite the same -- lots of people to know, only a bare few that became good friends -- and a lot of trash talking from those both above and below in the social hierarchy.
In college for my first B.A. degree - the entire time I'd say I had 6-10 good friends at most, the rest were classmates and acquaintances. In grad school, there were maybe two people who were good friends that I hung out with. Second trip through college for my B.S. degree - not one good friend, only classmates. The positive though was during that same time, outside of class - I met the woman who would eventually become my wife. In my career and personal life, I dare say there's been another 8-10 people who I would classify as 'good friend'. Even then, when my life transitioned from section to section, my friends and I fell away from each other, to the point of we have history - but honestly are no more than acquaintances now. How could I, with that kind of history, honestly say to my daughter that what she's going through will change in any significant way? I can sympathize with her, I can relate to her, but our personalities are very polarizing, and we just do not fit into the status quo in any meaningful way.
I know there are several statements about "Kids don't see strangers, kids don't see race, kids just see someone to be friends with -- everything else is learned." I agree with those statements, but she's to an age where the kids are developing their own personalities, and exhibiting what they've learned from their parents, their older siblings, and their older peers. They're trying to define who they are, where they fit, and who they want to be with, and don't yet have the filters to learn how to be diplomatic. They're noticing who's different from them, and relating it to the messages they've consciously and unconsciously been receiving for their life, all in an effort to establish a social hierarchy, and affix their place in it - usually by directly or indirectly putting down those who they feel should be under them in that hierarchy. It's I think easier to find friends once you've discovered who you are, and once you've developed the strength of character to be yourself in spite of those who say "I won't be your friend unless . . ." or perhaps "the cool people are doing this . . . ." But to those who are just starting that journey, and aren't quite blessed with the "popularity" gene, it is truly a tough journey - and one that requires a safe place where the wounded young can come to and be healed, fortified, reassured, and encouraged before wading back out into the fray.
Once we were home, she crawled up into my lap, and asked me why. . . . Why wouldn't they play with me? I just wrapped her up, held her close, and said "because they don't know you like we do." One day they might take that chance and get past the exterior, then again they might never chose to find out what a good friend my daughter can be. But she's gonna be her own person no matter what, and we're gonna love her through whatever comes.
