Chapter 22

As June pulled up to pick up the kids, the driver’s door of the silver minivan in front of her swung open. A large, mixed-race woman started walking towards her car just as the kids piled in. Her face was twisted with anger. June had finally calmed down during the 25-minute drive, but now her heart began pounding again. Are you kidding me? she thought, feeling the weight of her bad luck. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to steady her trembling hands.

“I need to talk to you,” said the woman, her tone fierce. June quickly realized that the woman had long, beautiful black hair and a pretty face—if it weren’t so contorted by anger. “Your oldest daughter said she was going to punch my child.”

“NO, I wasn’t!” Elizabeth immediately shouted from the back seat, leaning forward to defend herself. “It was him that was hitting my sisters!”

June placed a calming hand on Elizabeth’s knee and shot her the mom look—the one that says, Stand down, I’ve got this.

“Hi there, what’s going on?” June asked, keeping her voice steady even though she was shaking inside. The woman’s expression softened a little, though her eyes still flashed. “These kids were fighting on the playground, and my son said your daughter was going to punch him.”

From the back of the SUV, Evvie and Emily chimed in, saying that the boy had punched Evelyn and that he and some other boys had been threatening Emily too. The woman, now looking surprised, said, “My boy knows better than that! Well, I’m, uh, I’m going to have to talk to him. And where are the teachers on this playground?!”

Perfect, June thought. A common enemy. “Yes, that’s the real question,” June agreed. “Kids, did you talk to the teacher?”

June’s kids all spoke at once. “Yes, but he doesn’t care.” They didn’t even know the teacher’s name, and neither did June. The after-school program didn’t exactly have teachers running it—more like teaching assistants—but they should at least be able to handle playground scuffles.

June suggested that she and the woman exchange numbers and talk to their kids separately, then raise their concerns together with the school later. The woman, whose name was Tina, agreed, and she introduced her son as Jamal. June felt a rush of relief at the prospect of a peaceful resolution to the conflict.

On the way home, the kids went on and on about what had happened, filling June’s head with a cacophony of details. Finally, she told them they would write it all down when they got home.

June spent a good hour talking with the kids and piecing together the full story. She wrote everything down, planning to run it by Tina to see what her kids had said. She hoped they could bring their concerns to the school together. Still, June was feeling a bit shaky—between the day’s earlier drama and this new situation, her head felt swirly and unfocused. She didn’t trust herself to send the message to Tina right away, deciding to give herself time to reflect before moving forward.

I asked my kids to tell me what happened so I could document it. This is the story from their perspective:

Emily was playing on the monkey bars when four boys started throwing balls into the bars like they were basketball hoops. Emily swatted the balls away, but the boys then began aiming for her feet, trying to make her fall. Jamal started threatening her, saying he was going to give her a bloody nose and murder her. The boys continued to throw things at her, including a hard plastic bubble container. Emily got off the monkey bars, and the boys came after her. Jamal boasted that he knew tae kwon do. Emily retorted, "You obviously don’t, because you don’t have any common sense." (She was referencing Elizabeth's karate mantra: “Common sense before self-defense.”)

At that point, Jamal and another boy, possibly named Chauncey, tried to shove Elena’s face into the dirt. Emily kicked Jamal to get him off, then ran away. Jamal grabbed Elena’s hood as she fled, and Emily elbowed him to stop him from choking her. Martin, one of the other boys, suddenly said, "I’m going to have common sense and stop," then walked away.

Jamal then challenged Emily to a race. She won, but afterward, Jamal pushed her, causing her chest to slam into the slide. Emily climbed up the slide to get away. Meanwhile, Jamal approached Evelyn, who was at the ladder. He walked up to her with his fists clenched. Evelyn, thinking he was about to hit her, said, “Don’t punch me.” Jamal punched her in the ribs and smiled. Evelyn ran inside to get Elizabeth.

While Evelyn went to get Elizabeth, Jamal asked Emily who Elizabeth was. Emily told him, “Elizabeth is the girl with the mohawk.” Elizabeth came out with her hood up, and Jamal asked, “Are you the girl with the mohawk?” Elizabeth pulled her hood down, and Evelyn said, “That’s my sister.” Elizabeth asked Jamal, “You’re hurting my sisters?” He immediately started running away, but Elizabeth chased after him. When he stopped, Elizabeth put her hand on his shoulder, walked around to face him, and told him to stop hitting people. He just smiled, kicked her foot, and ran off again.

At that point, Jamal’s older cousin (whose name we don’t know) and another girl, Jeannie, approached Elizabeth. Jamal’s cousin told Elizabeth that if she hurt Jamal, she would “mess her up” (Elizabeth said there was a lot of swearing, and it was hard to understand everything the cousin was saying). Elizabeth ignored them and went to speak with the after-school teacher (none of my kids know his name). The teacher told her, “I’m the only teacher here, there’s not much I can do.” So, Elizabeth decided to sit down and write in her notebook. Meanwhile, Martin was teasing Jamal, saying, “You better be careful, Elizabeth is gonna knock you, pound your face in,” and kept going on about it.

After finishing her writing, Elizabeth and Evelyn went back inside. Emily climbed onto an elevated log on the playground, thinking she heard a car and wanting to see if it was her dad arriving for pickup. Jamal stood behind her and said, “You know what’s gonna happen next? I’m going to push you!” Emily asked why he wanted to push her, but he didn’t respond. Jamal then got off the log and asked if she wanted to play. Emily said no, explaining she was waiting for her pickup. She went back inside to use the bathroom, and Jamal went off to do something else.

At pickup, Jamal came out just before Elizabeth, Emily, and Evelyn did. Elizabeth overheard him shout, “It’s the mohawk girl!” Elizabeth responded, “Leave me alone.” Jamal and another girl, possibly his cousin, got into their car, while my kids got into mine. That’s when Tina came over to my window to express her concern about what Jamal had told her—that Elizabeth had threatened to punch him. My girls quickly denied it, saying it was Jamal who had punched Evelyn and Emily. Tina and I exchanged numbers to follow up on the situation later.

June was thinking to herself that this whole writing thing was really very helpful.

June forced herself to focus on her family first—they had dinner, and she managed to eat a sandwich though she was not hungry. The kids went off to play with their dad, excited about his new racing chair and video game. While they were all having fun, June felt a wave of joy for them, feeling safe, connected, and loved. That’s when she decided it was time to go re-read the email and hit send. When she re-read it, she made just one small tweak. She felt a huge sense of pride in what she had accomplished. June was proud of herself for standing up for “me,” for setting a boundary that would protect her emotional space so she could work on what she needed to. She also felt proud that she had gotten through the strong dissociation without breaking down. She did it! She hit send.

June made a conscious decision not to look at her phone for the rest of the night. It was time to focus on the kids and put them to bed. When she went to tuck each of them in, Elizabeth asked if she could read a story she had written. There was an urgency in Elizabeth’s request—she wanted her mother to do it right then. But June told her she’d tuck her in last so they could spend some extra time together.

When June finally sat down to read Elizabeth’s story, it was both beautiful and heartbreaking. It was about a little bluebird who sang his humble song in hopes of making friends. But no one ever came. Over time, the bird’s feathers turned gray, and its beak began to crack. One day, the bird heard footsteps. Someone was finally coming to join him. The bird, unable to see who it was, started to sing again, thinking it was a friend. But it was a cat. The cat went straight for the bird’s throat, and in the end, the bird was silenced forever. June read it aloud, fighting back tears. When she finished, Elizabeth asked if her mother knew what it meant—that it was symbolism. June told her it was a very powerful story, and she could share how she related to it.

June then shared her own experience of being bullied as a girl. She had a quirky sense of humor, and only one girl really “got her” and became her best friend. But the other girls thought they were weird, and they ignored them—or worse, made fun of them. Eventually, her friend joined the others. She started ignoring June, too, and even teased her along with the others. June told Elizabeth how devastated she had been.

That’s when Elizabeth opened up about something that had happened to her at school. She told her mother how she once had a group of friends she really liked. She’d created a beautiful piece of artwork and was so proud of it that she couldn’t wait to show her friends. But when she did, they only gave vague compliments. One of her friends even said, “A for effort.” It had happened back in first grade, but she was so hurt and angry that when she got home, she tore the artwork into pieces. June told her she could see how that made her feel like the bluebird in her story, especially after such a hurtful comment.

June explained to Elizabeth how powerful her writing was, and how the symbolism would resonate with so many people. She said everyone feels hurt when the people they care about don’t appreciate or support them, and sometimes say things that cut deep. She explained that artists are brave because they share such personal parts of themselves through their art. They risk opening themselves up to both admiration and criticism. And that takes real courage. June told her she thought she was an artist. Elizabeth smiled so big it nearly made June’s heart burst. June thanked her for sharing the story, telling her how special it was.

By the time she finally got to bed, Hadrian was already snoring. She tried not to feel resentful as she lay there, keyed up, finding it hard to sleep. Her phone buzzed a few times, and she imagined it was Donna freaking out and sending her texts. She couldn’t handle those potential distress calls. So, she decided to put her phone on silent and forbade herself from looking at the messages. She must sleep.

I've paid my dues

Time after time

I've done my sentence

But committed no crime

And bad mistakes

I've made a few

I've had my share of sand kicked in my face

But I've come through

(And I mean to go on and on, and on, and on)

We are the champions, my friends

And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end

We are the champions

We are the champions

No time for losers

'Cause we are the champions of the world

I've taken my bows

And my curtain calls

You brought me fame and fortune

And everything that goes with it

I thank you all

But it's been no bed of roses

No pleasure cruise

I consider it a challenge

Before the whole human race

And I ain't gonna lose

We Are The Champions by Queen