To Punish or Not to Punish?

A few Fridays ago Mikey got off the bus in a wonderful mood, as usual, and we started shooting some hoops like we would any other day.

A little while later I noticed I had a missed call and a voicemail from his school. It was the vice principal informing me that Mikey was one of a handful of students involved in a little scuffle at recess. I returned her message with one of my own and went to see if I could get any intel out of the 7-year-old.

Going for nonchalance, I took a turn shooting a basket, then casually mentioned, “Oh, Mikey, I got a call from your school.”

“Yes,” he said immediately, then changed his tone to, “Oh, yeah?”

“Do you know what it was about?”

“Uh … yeah.”

Silence.

“Care to share,” I asked.

Through a painful back and forth during which the child strategically released drips and dribbles of the altercation, he informed me that he and two friends got into a pushing match because, he claims, one boy made fun of him when he blocked a ball from hitting his face and that hurt his feelings.

The pushing went on for a bit until Mikey hit one of the kids in the stomach.

At about that point in the story, my phone rang again and it was the vice principal returning my call. Fortunately, her story matched what Mikey told me.

She was also able to tell me that, after looking at the video camera from the playground, it looked like Mikey didn’t start it, “but he did finish it” (her words, not mine) when he hit a kid in the stomach and a monitor then broke up the kerfuffle.

She was gracious in explaining that it was not only Mikey but a handful of boys being pushy, which is not uncommon for their age, and that no one walked away with any injury. However, she wanted to inform me that Mikey was the only one who had to go to her office because, even though they were all in the wrong to put their hands on each other, Mikey’s offense was worse because he actually struck out instead of just pushing back.

I stopped her right there and told her she doesn’t have to defend that decision. First, Mikey’s consequence stands regardless of whether others get one as well. Second, he got caught, and that’s a cost of acting out. Third, life’s not fair.

The administrator added that Mikey was “very upset,” so she just wanted to give me a heads up in case I wondered why Mikey was upset when he got home.

With a chuckle, I informed her that my little master manipulator would have successfully hidden the entire event from me had she not called.

However, I asked what she meant when she said Mikey was “upset” – was he mad, sad, embarrassed, ashamed? – to which she said he seemed to think it was unjust that only he had to go to the principal’s office when the others didn’t, especially since he didn’t start the brouhaha.

He’s not wrong.

After hearing all the administrator had to say, I first asked if the child Mikey hit was OK, to which she said he was absolutely fine. Mikey was forced to apologize, then was allowed to go back to class, and in no time all three of the boys involved in the scuffle were friends again and all was right in the world.

Boys!

Now, I have always had a problem with the forced apology because I feel like it’s very much similar to forcing the kid to try the vegetable on his plate before he can leave the table – you may win the battle, but you by no means with the war. He fulfilled his requirement to get on with life, but he didn’t truly gain empathy and put himself in the shoes of the person who was hit, and regret his actions.

But, I also get it … the teachers are trying enforce a standard.

I talked with Mikey about what had happened with the goal of making sure he understood why he was the one punished why others weren’t, really driving home that the best way to not get caught putting your hands on someone when you shouldn’t, is by not doing it in the first place.

When my husband came home I relayed the story to him, and I could tell as I was doing so – just by his facial expression and his shrug – that he felt Mikey had done nothing wrong. “They poked the bear,” he said of the kids who started pushing and shoving.

Ultimately, Mikey did not receive a punishment or consequence on our end. Is that fair, or “proper parenting?” I’m not sure.

I asked my husband not to encourage the behavior any further by going into a whole “if it’s self-defense it’s acceptable” shpiel. Let’s save that for when Mikey is a bit older, and not just striking out because he can’t control his emotions.

But otherwise, we let it go. He was punished by the school, we talked about it, and we got over it.

Speaking with some family and other parents, we’ve gotten mixed opinions regarding how they would have handled the situation and it leaves me wondering if we will ever be confident in our parenting decisions.

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