‘Hello, is this Mikey’s Mom?’

I get a call from Mikey’s school almost weekly.

He and some friends were pushing and shoving. He keeps speaking out of turn. He laughed and encouraged another student when they were making a bad decision. He and some friends were pushing and shoving, again.

Every time my phone rings during school hours and I see that familiar number flash across the screen, I do an eye roll. My greeting is usually something to the effect of, “What did he do now?”

However, throughout the weeks, I’ve developed a chip on my shoulder and – I’m not proud of it – recently gave the teacher attitude when she called to tell me that my 7-year-old son had to go to the principal’s office because during a snowball fight at recess he pushed a classmate to the ground.

I don’t know about you, but to me, allowing a snowball fight among a bunch of rowdy second grade boys sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.

My call with the teacher ended with the usual “I’ll talk with him about it.”

When Mikey came home, I asked him about what happened and he quickly confirmed, “Yeah, I pushed Henry down because he kept throwing snowballs at Ryan, and Ryan asked him to stop but he didn’t.”

Before I could go into my speech about how it’s honorable to defend your friends but perhaps a better solution is to walk away from those whose behavior is upsetting you, he further confessed, “I also hit Peter in the face with a snowball because he was throwing snow at Thomas and acting like he wasn’t.”

The conversation ended with me explaining that if he doesn’t want to miss out on recess, he’s got to figure out how to resolve these things without resulting to vigilantism.

A week later, the phone rang at about 1 p.m., and that familiar number danced across the screen again. When I answered, it was not only the principal, but also the vice principal on the line.

Awesome.

As usual, the principal started by explaining, “This isn’t an emergency, everything is OK, but…” and I waited to hear what offense my son had committed that required not only the top dog, but also the second in command to be in on the call.

The principal explained to me that during recess, Mikey was hit by another child who was “extremely dysregulated” and striking out as he ran away from an aide. She told me it was through no fault of Mikey that he was hit – he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Both the principal and vice principal nervously explained to me that the child struck Mikey on the back and shoulders, his neck, and the back of the head. They immediately brought Mikey to the nurse’s office and he showed no sign of harm or distress.

Then the principal went on to tell me how proud and inspired they were by the way Mikey handled the situation. Apparently, when he turned around to see who was essentially attacking him, he saw who it was and didn’t retaliate.

Now, while the administrators never divulge the names of other students involved in incidents, and can’t talk about the other students’ personal information, I knew right away that the classmate involved was one who is part of the special education program who spends only about half of the day in class with the traditional learners. He is a wonderful child who is affected by many challenges that impair his motor function and emotional regulation, and he is non-verbal.

The principal told me that when Mikey saw this student acting out, he simply took a few steps back, and showed the other child nothing but kindness and compassion. When he was with the nurse, she asked him to express his feelings, and he said he wasn’t angry with his classmate for hitting him because he understood that the child was “having a bad day” and “it’s not his fault.”

When the administrators were done talking and there was silence on the phone, I cried.

I’m pretty sure the principal and vice principal were nervous that I was upset that Mikey had experienced this mini-assault, because they just kept apologizing and reiterating that they will do everything they can to prevent something like this from happening again.

When I got my emotions under control, I told the women that I was not at all worried about my kid. I knew Mikey was fine. The reason for my emotions was pride, because I know that if Mikey had turned around and it was one of his other buddies, he would have retaliated without a second thought. But the fact that he saw who it was and understood that this student was having a bad moment, and that life is not easy for this child, he chose kindness and compassion.

And my kid doesn’t always show kindness and compassion.

As strange as it sounds, I’m glad Mikey was the one standing in the other child’s path that day, because it gave him the opportunity to prove that he does, in fact, have empathy.

If only we can get him to exhibit that every day …

The next week when the call came in that Mikey was back to his usual handsy ways, I still cringed, but at least I know he’s got a good heart in there somewhere.

Holly Crocco is editor of the Putnam County Times/Press and mother of a 7-year-old boy. She can be reached at editorial@putnampresstimes.com.