Mothers and Sons

I was called into the junior high because my son was in a fistfight. I am shocked. This can't be my son. He is only 14. He is the sweetest kid. He is the one in our house who says goodbye and I love you to every single one of the six people he lives with in the morning when he leaves for school. When I arrive I can tell he is a combination of angry, scared and coming down off of the adrenaline rush. His face is flushed and his cheek has obviously taken a good sock. He is favoring his mouth and keeps running his tongue over his front teeth. He is too hyped to speak without becoming overly emotional in front of the Vice Principal. We get directly to the bottom of it.

Heresay: in PE this morning the boy he was fighting with slashed my son's good friend on the court and injured him. My son got involved where he shouldn't have. The coach stepped in and broke up a shoving match. The day continued with no other incident until daily dismissal when he was approached by the same young opposition and shoved again. Thus, a fight ensued. One day in school suspension with a conflict resolution with the other offending party and hopefully the boys will have it sorted out. I must admit, there is a piece of me as his mother that was terrified and a smaller piece that wished he would've at least gotten in one good punch.

Boys have been fighting since the beginning of time, and while I do not advocate fighting I have also encouraged ALL my four to defend themselves only when and if it is necessary to do so; daughters included. I do not wish to see my children end up as a target for someone who sees them as weak. I decide to trust the school with their consequences and resolution plan and my husband and I express our thoughts on his bad decision, after all it was a poor choice to become involved in the situation to begin with.

We also reiterate to him the importance of resolving this conflict quickly and completely. We stress to him that the other boy MUST know that there is no longer an issue to fight about. I shudder to think that a grudge or vendetta would be carried amongst classmates, or peers or worse yet opposing groups of peers. I worry that the arguement will combust on the pavement during the lunch hour in a week. Ten years ago, would I have given this another thought? Is it top news stories and high school traumas over the last few years that have awakened this worry? In the last five years in Alberta alone, how many young men under 20 years have died in peer/classmate/'gang' violence?

Okay, so you can see that I am a worrier. It is painful to see your child's first real brush with dislike. Or hatred. How spoiled am I that my child has reached 14 before he knows what it is like to be assaulted, verbally or physically by a school peer? How crazy of a world it is that a mother expects for their child to encounter violence and aggression as a 'normal' learning curve? It is equally excrutiating for me to know that there is little I can do to prevent future incidents. A boy's journey to a man is wrought with testosterone outbursts. I pray this is his last. I don't get it and I am disgusted that I accept it as 'the way it is'.

Strangely enough, there is an invisible badge that he now wears on his puffed out chest. When he arose in the morning with a pink and shiny cheekbone, he was slightly smug and oddly proud. I reminded him my expectation was to have it completely resolved by days end. He assured me it would be and left for school.

I feel gray hairs coming on.