Growing Pains

"I feel really lonely about this."

When my son said this late last night at bedtime, I swear I almost burst into tears.

He's going through a tough time in school, being teased for being "fat" by his entire school bus. We feel a lot of this has to do with the fact that he is very different from his schoolmates, both personally and in his physique. Beside most of the local boys who tend to be on the scrawny, shrimpy, toothpick side (clearly I am upset), C is a big boy. Ironically, back home in the Philippines, he would be just average...big, perhaps, but not fat and certainly not obese. In the US or the UK, he would be just average. But yes, here he is fat, plain and simple. And children can be as cruel and as narrow-minded as adults can.

So what's happening now is when he steps onto the bus, the entire troop yells, "Hi fat Carlos." And apparently, yesterday, one kid says, "Everybody who thinks Carlos is fat should whack him." And more than a number of them kicked him on his shins. I called the school bus coordinator first thing.

T and I sat with him last night to try and strategise. Because it's the entire bus and not just one or two, he can't really pick a fight - he'd be outnumbered. He has tried smart remarks, but with so many of them, he is outshouted. The other problem is that he refuses to just ignore it.

"They make me so angry, I'm tempted to say something back."

One of my suggestions is to answer, "Hi, toothpicks." Or even better, just hi, and simply ignore it. Lola's suggestion is to threaten to sit on them - however, I think that would backfire. T says to ignore it, to act like it doesn't bother him. But C was adamant. It does bother him, and why wouldn't it? He is an outspoken boy. He can't just ignore it.

Wisely, he vetoed the idea of either me or T coming down and shouting at the entire busload (which actually, I'm very tempted to do). But I know, the minute the bus gets on the road, it will simply start again.

He's now very conscious of what he eats and wants to be "thin." But I told him that he can't lose that much weight as he's still growing. Besides, no matter how thin he gets, he will always be on the bigger side - it's in his genes. He sighed and buried his face into the pillow. And that's when he said it.

"I feel really lonely about this."

You start remembering such moments in your own childhood when you felt "very lonely" about something. My moment was in the fourth grade, when the entire class of 17 girls decided to give me the silent treatment for no apparent reason. It lasted a week and a half, until one girl simply got tired of it and the rest followed suit. I ended up forging friendships with the boys. It was humiliating because even the teachers asked me what was going on. At 38, I still vividly recall the loneliness. And here C is feeling the exact same thing. Faced with small minds attached to smaller bodies, what's a boy of seven to do?

With aplomb, he wakes for breakfast. He puts on his clothes and goes to school, anyway. There are no tears, no resistance to what he has to do. He tells us he loves us. He says goodbye. He is resolute, perhaps a tinge hopeful, building inner strength and steeling himself against the feeling of forlorn aloneness.

I am sure he will survive this. He will emerge strong, I'm certain. But there's no denying that ache, that hardness in the heart. Be reassuring. Tell him this too will pass, even while knowing it will stay with him forever. What else is a mother to do?