Tales from another "Boymom"
My own short story (not Ruth Whippman's book)
What do being bullied, a friend’s death, playing double bass, and the Boy Scouts have to do with a boy’s development?
My son, David, was recognized as gifted at an early age. He knew all his letters and numbers before he spoke in sentences. He read books eagerly. He played incessantly with Brio train sets, Tinker toys, and engineering activity sets. There were no robotics kits when he was young, however he managed to construct computers in the fifth grade.
My attempts to expose him to athletics were fraught with failure. He was clumsy in his kicking and thus disliked soccer. Likewise, he did not enjoy basketball, except for the neat uniform. Swimming was fun for him in the summer, and he competed in swim meets with his sisters, but never won anything. He was clearly heading towards being a geeky kid. He was noticeably different from other kids which set him up for troubles as a tween.
Moving him up from fourth to sixth grade in a small private school had been harmful to his social development, not to mention his well-being. He was too young and immature to fit into that group of boys who were a year older than him. In that situation, he was bullied mercilessly. He continued to be a misfit in the seventh grade in that school, but, to his credit, he managed to make the best of his situation.
ICYMI 👉 I wrote about that period in his life here:
The loss of a new best friend
Moving to Austin allowed us to place him back into the seventh grade with his chronological peers. We hoped to correct our previous mistake (allowing him to skip a grade) by enrolling him into the seventh grade again. The new teacher thought she could “keep him occupied.” David developed a good friendship with another pleasant, bright and (equally) nerdy boy. They enjoyed playing together, tinkering, building and dissecting computers, and creating elaborate electronic gadgets.
These two had been friends for about a year when this young man was heartbreakingly killed in a freak skiing accident. While spring skiing with his family, he fell on a steep slope, and unfortunately the tip of his ski hit him squarely in the throat. He died there before any help could be obtained. This boy’s death was, of course, devastating for his parents, his older brother, and for many of the kids at his school, including David. David talked quietly with his father about his friend’s death, and later they attended the funeral together. He told me that he “felt bad” when he watched his mother sobbing. We arranged for him to talk with a counselor, too, and this seemed to help him cope with such a profound loss.
The orchestra experience
Seventh grade continued along without incident, and David survived, mainly as a loner. During that time, Mrs. Harrison, the amiable orchestra teacher, took a special interest in him. She was a happy, outgoing, middle-aged music teacher whom all the kids liked. My son already knew how to play piano and read music, especially the bass clef, so Mrs. Harrison suggested he play double bass. Fortunately, David turned out to be adept with that instrument and loved being a part of the orchestra. David connected with Mrs. Harrison and continued to play bass in the orchestra for the rest of middle school (and throughout high school and college).
Mrs. Harrison led us, and other orchestra families, on guided summer trips through Europe when David was participating in the middle school orchestra. She was a delight to be around, always positive and joyful. This amazing teacher arranged summer trips in which the kids saw musicals, watched theater performances, heard orchestras play, visited museums, and toured. I went along on several of those wonderful trips with her group of young teens.
One unforgettable moment occurred during that year my son was thirteen. I was lying down on my bed one afternoon, reading Real Boys, by William Pollack. I was continually trying to understand how to support my bright, sensitive, and inquisitive son. David stuck his head in my bedroom door to ask me a question. Sheepishly, he said, “Mom, is there something wrong with me?” Heartbroken, I sat up and invited him into my bedroom to talk.
He sat on my bed and told me that when I read books about child development it made him feel as if there was something wrong with him. I was crushed, but reassured him that nothing was wrong with him, that life in middle school was hard and a big adjustment for everybody. When I explained that he had been through a lot, he agreed. Then he told me that he was “beginning to fit in” at school. I told him that I enjoyed reading to understand all the trials and phases that were going on in our lives - mine, his, and his sisters’. That day, he seemed satisfied with my answer, but it made me reconsider how not only everything we say, but also everything we do affects how our children feel about themselves.
The Boy Scout experience
A professional colleague recommended the Boy Scouts as a remedy for David’s dormant social development. Moving to Austin offered the ideal opportunity since the Catholic church nearby had a fabulous scout troop, filled with boys just like him—smart, nerdy, and eager. The Scout Master and other scouts’ fathers were committed to Troop 990, but I had to convince my husband that Scouting would be a good thing. He was wary of its militaristic aspects. Many of the 990 dads were free on weekends and assisted the boys with their monthly campouts.
For eight months of the year, these boys and dads traveled to various state parks around Texas, such as Longhorn Cavern, McKinney Falls, Inks Lake, Palo Duro Canyon, and Camp Tahuya, beautiful places near rivers and natural springs, all accessible for weekend campouts. David prepared his camping equipment by loading his large action-packer, a giant plastic tub with a secure lid for travel.
The boys made their own campsites, pitched their own tents, knotted ropes, learned how to handle hatchets and knives, started fires, cooked their own meals, and earned scads of merit badges. These I happily sewed onto his merit badge sash. These young Boy Scouts exemplified being prepared.
Only once was there a mishap during one of the camping trips. David was using a sharp knife and somehow cut deeply into the index finger of his right hand. This cut severed nearly half of a tendon! Thankfully the adult scout leader attended to David as he had it surgically repaired at a hospital nearby. David’s finger healed normally, and his self-esteem continued to grow in scouting. During his high school years, he became an Eagle Scout.
He went on to college and grad school, married a lovely, equally nerdy girl, and happily practices cinematography in LA.
My gifted, nerdy, clumsy, musical, eager, and sensitive little boy grew into an accomplished young man. That makes me a “boy mom,” too.
Sophocles was correct when he wrote - "Sons are the anchors of a mother’s life."