Saturday, March 7, 2015

Third Grade Girls...Ugh!

I have heard it over and over..."Boys are so much easier to raise than girls." This year has been a continuous life lesson about adapting, rethinking, and stumbling to find my way. How can such cute little girls be so rude and heartless? Is it really possible that when I am not watching, my outgoing sweetie could be just as ornery? Well, this is what makes me wonder...

Recently my little 10 year old was invited to a pizza birthday party. This is the first party she was invited to this year. Yes, that should have been a hint as to the outcome of this event, but Grace was so excited to be going. The birthday girl's mom welcomed us when we walked into the restaurat and took the leopard print gifts which were painstakingly chosen by Grace and wrapped in paper to match the contents. The long table was just about filled with giggles when I said, "Good-bye." Grace seemed happy and ready for my exit, but I was keenly aware of the way the chatter circled around without any comment or interaction from my usually extroverted pumpkin. When I returned in an hour, Grace was sitting in a booth coloring on a place mat alone-- a sharp contrast to the giggles and laughter  from the circle of girls packed into the large corner booth. Grace smiled at the mother, stood up from the table, folder her partially colored paper project, and said her thank yous as if this was typical and commonplace. No drama or concern whatsoever... I tried to act as unconcerned as she, but continued with questions until I had a sense of what happened. Apparently the other girls didn't want to teach her how to play the card game they chose. Perhaps that was it, I thought and tried to let it go.

But then we went to the basketball game. Grace sat down in the carpeted, gym foyer to change into her basketball shoes at about the time a classmate walked through the gym door.

"Hi, Payton," she quipped excitedly while she waved.

Silence and no acknowledgement. "Oh, perhaps she didn't notice her sitting there on the floor," I reassured myself.

As we entered the gym a few minutes later, Grace spotted Payton and two friends on the third row of the bleachers behind 4 of their other teammates. Cheerfully, Grace requested, "Can I sit with my team?" And with a nod from me she skipped away proudly and sat on the bleacher behind the rest of the crew. Something didn't seem right about the way the girls ignored her greetings, though, so this time Mark and I chose seats behind Grace about halfway up the stack of wooden bleachers to inconspicuously observe. Whispering and nodding... Tapping shoulders and more nodding... Sideways glances and then carefully orchestrated movements...Three girls stood up and hustled into the foyer and around the corner. Then Payton and the two pawns sitting next to her slid down the bench, hustled up the bleacher stairs, and slid back into an empty bench at the other end of the gym without saying a word to Grace. Grace looked after them and focused on their movements until they settled into their new distant location. A little later the foyer crew joined Payton, too. Still coincidence?

And finally this week, Grace came home with a question. "Mom, who gave me my name? Mrs. L., my teacher, really wants to know. I told her my other mom did, because I didn't know and everybody was listening and waiting. " Hmm... That is a good question, Grace. One to which we don't know the answer. A question filled with undertones of abandonment and neglect. A question that I am sure no other child in the class wonders about. Just one more way that our 38 pound, ADHD, 10 year old is different from her classmates. And now this novelty was questioned in front of an entire class of 3rd grade students; the same students who already exclude her at parties and move to avoid her at basketball games.

 My mama dander is ruffled, and I have to remind myself to be slow to anger and not easily offended over and over these days. I did send a carefully worded email to her teacher explaining why it would be best not share Grace's personal adoption story with her peers, but it is really difficult to address this with a colleague who wll sit across the table from me at the next staff training.

And now, I have to move on. Not just for my spiritual health, but because now we need to deal with the girls throwing blocks at Grace during Wednesday night kids church.  Oh, yeah, and she nailed them with some, too. She might have started it. I'm not naive enough to think she has no responsibility in this. In fact, I see that she is the common denominator. Grace has a strong personality. She likes completion, Star Wars, basketball, and Wilkie -talkies. She said that she doesn't even try to play with the girls at school anymore. They seem to be a better fit for her right now.

 We have decided that for now, it just isn't worth the struggle. We are taking a break. She doesn't need to be facing this much rejection all at once. Maybe we will try 4-H or just take our family camping.