I Saw My Daughter Act Like a Mean Girl and it Broke My Heart.

Until recently, I believed I could teach my kids compassion and empathy simply by leading by example. I have been working within the homeless community since they were very young and they have often accompanied me to different events serving our underserved communities. Naively, I thought this compassion would trickle down to their interactions with their peer group, too. However yesterday, I witnessed my daughter act like a mean girl and it broke my heart.

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For the last few weeks, a boy at my daughter’s bus stop has stood out to me. He’s always the first one to the bus stop in the morning. He’s always the last one off the bus in the afternoon. If it’s raining, no one waits with him, and no one picks him up in the afternoons, either. He’s the only kid who is left to walk home in the pouring rain.

I’ve watched the way he searches the faces of the other kids as they arrive each morning, one by one. Every day, he tries his best to put on a brave face and make eye contact. He half raises his hand to each one in a feeble wave hoping this will be the day someone notices him. But every day, every single kid completely ignores him.

Earlier this week, I asked my daughter if she knew anything about him. I was sad to learn she didn’t even know his name.

“Be kind to him,” I said. “I recognize his sadness.”

As 11-year-old girls sometimes do, she did her best not to roll her eyes at me and then changed the subject.

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Yesterday morning it was raining and all the other kids sat in cars with their parents while he waited in the rain. I wanted to invite him to come to sit in the car with us, but I was worried I’d come across as creepy. I was also worried it might cause him trouble at home. I don’t know his parents, but if they are anything like mine were as a child, he’d be punished for receiving any kind of compassion, especially from a stranger.

When the bus arrived and kids started getting out of their parents’ cars, my daughter got out and walked towards him. I saw him say hello and try to smile at her.

And then I watched her roll her eyes, and walk right past him as if he were invisible.

I saw the hurt flash across his face as he put his head down, got behind everyone else, and was the last one onto the bus.

Something inside of me broke and I cried all the way home. “Am I raising a mean girl?” I wondered. “Have I failed as a parent?”

When I went to pick her up after school, it was raining again — and of course, no one was there to pick him up while all the other kids scurried to the cars of their waiting parents.

When she climbed into the car I asked, “A., do you know why I work with homeless people?”

She paused for a second and then said, “Because you want to help people who are sad.”

“Yes, but do you know the main reason?”

She looked up at me, suddenly registering how upset I was, but unsure of what to say.

“I am drawn to helping the homeless because nothing tears me apart more than seeing another human feel invisible.”

I paused for a minute and then asked, “Why were you rude to that boy this morning? How much effort would it have taken you to simply say hello?”

I saw her replaying this morning through her mind and flinch. She knew exactly what I was talking about.

“Have you ever wondered why he is the first one to the bus stop and the last one off every day?” I continued. “Have you ever wondered why no one waits with him in the rain?”

I knew she hadn’t — she’s 11, however, these are the questions I want my children to ask themselves when they see someone being treated like an outcast.

“Has he ever been unkind to you or given you a reason to ignore him?” I asked.

“No.” She said, with her cheeks turning red and her voice starting to shake.

I explained, “When I was your age — I was that boy. I was the one eager to get out of my house in the morning and dreading going back. I was the child nobody waited with in the rain, or the cold weather or the ridiculous heat. I was the sad child who desperately wanted to be noticed by my parents or my peers, but who everyone ignored.”

My voice cracked as I said, “I know what it feels like to feel invisible and it’s terrible. Do you realize you’re treating him like he’s invisible? How would you feel if that were you?”

We sat in silence for a few moments while she thought about what I’d said. I knew she started to understand when tears began rolling down her face.

“Just because someone might be a little socially awkward does not mean they don’t have feelings. He’s a kid trying to survive middle school, just like you. The words you say and the way you treat those around you at this time in your life — whether good or bad — will affect them for the rest of their lives. It costs you nothing to be kind. Do you understand me?”

She nodded and I hugged her while we both cried. I hate seeing my children cry, however, I wanted to make sure she understood the point I was making.

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A recent study found that 49% of students between 4th and 12th-grade report being bullied at least once in school and 41% reported the bullying as being repetitious.

Are we so focused on raising the most popular kid or the smartest kid or the most athletic kid that we’ve forgotten to teach basic empathy and compassion? Or perhaps we all believe, as I did, that leading by example is enough.

This week I learned it’s not enough. I need to do more. We all need to do more.

The tactics for teaching empathy to children varies by age, however, Harvard Graduate School for Education gives these five tips for cultivating empathy in children:

1. Empathize with your child and model empathy for others.

2. Make caring for others a priority and set high ethical expectations.

3. Provide opportunities for children to practice empathy.

4. Expand your child’s circle of concern.

5. Help children develop self-control and manage feelings effectively.

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From now on, I vow to speak more frequently and openly about empathy and compassion with my children. I want them to be aware of the world around them and pay attention. I want us to speak with each other about the things we see and experience each day as well as discuss what we learn and what we can improve on. I am just as much of a work in progress as they are so I look forward to what we can learn from each other.

I truly believe that if we give this next generation the tool of empathy, and guide them to show compassion on a daily basis, the world will be a much better place in 20 years.