Is "Bullying" The New Buzzword?

When I was in junior high, I was a very shy kid.  I also had somehow attracted the attention of my science teacher, who made it clear to everyone that I was the "teacher's pet".  Those two unfortunate things combined made me the perfect target for the class bully, "Chris" (a girl).  She would harass me every day, with such witty taunts as " 'Lauren' sounds like 'urine' ".  Unfortunately, I was too afraid to respond with the equally witty "oh yeah, well 'Chris' sounds like 'piss' " that I was screaming inside my head.  So I suffered in silence every day, letting Chris pick on me, enduring it while her friends would push each other into me, slam into the locker next to mine, etc.  Needless to say, it was a living hell and, for several weeks, I was scared and miserable every day at school.

In those days, there was no anti-bully campaign.  Rather, it was every kid for him/herself.  If you had a problem with another kid, you either put up with it, or you found a way to resolve it yourself. So the bullying continued, until one day I reached my breaking point.  I waited for Chris after class, and with my little fists shaking, I beat the living tar out of her.  Now, when I retell this story to my kids, I say that she threw the first punch.  But the truth is, her bullying hurt far worse than anything she could do to me physically, and to this day I stand behind my decision to throw the first punch.  After that, she and her little gang of future minimum wage workers left me alone.  That day I learned to stand up for myself, to not be afraid of bullies, and to refuse to take crap from anyone.  That self-taught lesson served me well as I grew up and was able to hold my own as a 5'4" woman in a corporate world filled with men and assorted grown-up bullies.

Fast forward almost 3 decades, and you have a whole new atmosphere.  Schools have swung 180 degrees in the opposite direction and are now hyper-sensitive to bullying.  You can't pass a school without seeing "Bully Free Zone" spray painted on the side of the building.  Heaven forbid two kids have the slightest altercation, or bump into each other on the playground, the school immediately goes to DEFCON 1 - doors are locked down, parents are beckoned from work and swat teams are called in.

I exaggerate of course, but not by much.  I recently had an issue involving one of my kids that illustrates the current over-the-top anti-bullying climate in our schools.  My son, who is in 2nd grade, became the object of desire for a female classmate whose crush on him was approaching the level of Glen Close in Fatal Attraction.  She hounded him relentlessly to be his project partner, gym partner, to sit next to him at lunch, play with him at recess, etc.  While at first I found this adorable, it soon became too much for my son, who came home in tears one day asking if he could transfer classes to get away from this girl and the teasing from the other kids who were aware of the situation.  So, at the yearly parent-teacher meeting, I calmly explained the situation to the teacher, and asked that the girl and my son be separated in class and not be partners for class projects.  Her response?  "That is bullying!  She is bullying your son, and with your permission, I would like to get the school psychologist involved."  I was completely taken aback by this response.  Was she crazy?  "Um, no, this is not bullying, it is just a crush", I responded, "and you certainly do NOT have my permission to subject this girl to psychological counseling just because she has a little thing for my son!"

Don't get me wrong, I am all for raising awareness of bullying and teaching kids that it is wrong and will not be tolerated.  But this knee-jerk reaction of labeling every student altercation "bullying" seems way over the top to me.  How are our kids ever going to learn to resolve conflicts themselves if they are not allowed to even try?  If they are herded off to the school psychologist every time they express themselves or have a disagreement?  What is that teaching them about handling conflict or emotions, and how will they ever survive in the real world?
What do you think?  Have the schools taken the anti-bullying campaign so far that it is actually hurting our kids more than it is helping them?

Why I Can't Bake Christmas Cookies Without Crying:

A few months ago, I heard Gwyneth Paltrow tell Rachael Ray that she cried into her pancakes every time she made them, because the recipe was taught to her by her father, who had since passed away.  Gwyneth tried to laugh about it, but I knew only too well the pain she was feeling because, unfortunately, I can relate.  I cannot even think about baking Christmas cookies without landing somewhere between welling-up and outright sobbing, depending on whether or not my kids are around.

The reason for this annual holiday meltdown?  My grandma Rose ("hot-rod Rosy" to those of us who had ever dared to sit in her passenger seat).  She is no longer with us, and every Christmas season I miss her even more than usual.  You see, I was born to a mother who, although wonderful, supportive and giving in every way, was more tomboy than Betty Crocker.  You would be more likely to find her on a softball field than standing over a tray of freshly baked, well, anything.  This is where my grandma Rose came in.  She was everything that a grandma should be.  She baked, sewed, sang silly songs while playing the organ, jumped rope, played hopscotch, and powdered us from head to toe with a big pink powder puff.  She was sweet and loving and never once scolded my sister or me. 

But my best memories with grandma are the times we spent together baking Christmas cookies and pies.  She would let my sister and I help with every step, never losing patience or raising her voice.  She let us decorate every cookie, and taste them fresh and warm out of the oven.  She had the magic touch, and when I say that they were the best cookies anyone has ever tasted, you can take that to the bank.  Everything she made turned out perfectly. 

At the time, I enjoyed spending this time with my grandma, but I am not sure that I appreciated it and cherished it the way that I should have.  I did not know that before she would pass, old age would rob her of these very memories that were so precious to me.  As her mind faded, I regretted desperately not spending even more time with her, not taking notes, not asking her every question about her life that I could think of.  When she left us at the age of 95, I was left with equal parts happy memories and regrets.

My grandma was in large part a role model for the type of sweet, nurturing, Betty Crocker mom I strive to be.  So far I have not been able to match her sweet nature or patience, or her unbelievable baking skills, but I try.  And because of my grandma, I make sure every holiday season, no matter what is going on in our lives, to set aside time to bake with my kids.  It is messy, and at times a bit frustrating, but I keep a smile on my face and patience in my voice because I know, without a doubt, just how precious these memories will be to them someday when I am gone.

So this year I will put on the faded and torn housecoat that my grandma wore all those years ago when she baked, and I will do my best to hide my tears from my kids as I pass on my grandma's beautiful tradition.  If you are one of the ones to whom I deliver a tray, please forgive me if the cookies are a bit too salty - some of my tears may have escaped into the batter.