<p>I agree that raising a boy according to his academic and creative talents provides him a central core so he is less of a victim/target/magnet for bullies. </p>
<p>Of my 2 sons, both small and verbal, both used a lead strength to survive. The oldest counted on his wit, the youngest on his ability to make and keep friends. And both used their intelligence to speak up for themselves and not get pushed around. The limits of their intelligence was defined by religious teachings/moral teachings, to emphasize kindness and not doing what was hateful to themselves to other kids. Most kids know what they DON"T like done to them, so it’s easier to talk in negatives, than to define how they wish they’d be treated. “Be nice” to someone else is vague. “Don’t make fun of their clothes” is specific. So to restate the Golden Rule, instead of saying “Do unto others as you’d have them do to you,” for kids it is easier to define, “What is hateful to you, do not do unto others.” (taught with specifics of course, not thees and thous
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<p>Between ages 10-12, it got back to me after-the-fact that each of my S’s had a playground fight where they hit back at a longtime verbal tormentor. I was always sad about those, but my H. also short, remembered them from his youth and said sometimes one punch just stops all the hazing. </p>
<p>In today’s school climate, you can’t tell your kid to punch the bully, but if he ever does, don’t criticize him excessively for it. He probably HAD to do it to make him stop (I’m talking about same-sizers, here, obviously not those big poundage differences. I truly understand the difference.) I don’t understand it, but since I never forbade them from hitting (it just wasn’t on my mind), I guess they just finally hit the kids who tormented, teased and so on ad nauseum. I wanted to tell them they were wrong, but my H was adamant that they had done the right thing in their situation. He knew boy culture and I didn’t. Although we never told them what to do, when we heard one had finally punched the same-size bully in the face (who bullied another boy, too), H said, “Good. I’m glad you did it.” We had quite different responses, and I didn’t disagree. Now I think my H was correct. Glad I held my tongue that day. </p>
<p>My boys weren’t the most popular leaders, but they weren’t the victims, either, despite small statures. They are roaring talented today, with good friends and big hearts. We tried out different kinds of lessons until a few things “stuck.” Eventually we found in h.s. the schedules of the athletic coaches forced them to choose between performance and athletics, which was sad esepcially for my S who liked soccer. He had to give up soccer, although within the same year was in a film where a soccer scene was filmed, so that’s funny justice. </p>
<p>I’m proud my boys each held their own and today do what they need to do and enjoy life very much. Followup on the nastiest bullies from their elementary classrooms showed that they didn’t amount to anything, and lost popularity in h.s. when the others figured them out.</p>
<p>A key thing is the ability to make some friends in a room, so your kid is not perceived by peers as without a support group. Bullied kids are always isolated. We all know the bully is a coward and crumbum every time, so they seek to pick out the weakest link to pummel.</p>
<p>Just to be able to make and keep classroom friends is itself a protection against bullying.</p>
<p>There are many books written about bullying. It is a huge concern nationwide. I’m only suggesting you zoom in on the chapters about ensuring you’re not setting him up to become the victim, because now is the age to make sure you’re giving him some good responses, good self-esteem, good inner core.</p>
<p>That was why I was so concerned, above, that he learn very soon not to insult others publicly. He’s going to need school friends. It’s not just him against the world. Playdates might be as valuable as talent lessons, if that’s a possibility.</p>
<p>FInally, one of the best workshops I ever attended was by a specialist in gifted education who urged every parent to list their child’s annoying characteristics. THe list sounded like this: stubborn, immature, flighty, tearful, difficult, argumentative… (there was a room full of parents).</p>
<p>Then she had the group rename every adjective into a positive adult version of the same childlike behavior pattern. So, for example, “stubborn” became “confident”; immature became spontaneous; flighty=imaginative; tearful=compassionate; difficult=courageous; argumentative=stand up for others.</p>
<p>I don’t know why but this gave me a lot of courage to view my S as a work-in-progress and to realize he’d grow have many years to grow up. My job as a parent was to guide each of the negative childish traits into positive adult character attributes. It didn’t happen all at once, but after a decade I could almost draw a roadmap on each of these negatives. The activities you put him in DO make a positive difference, and I commend you for thinking so carefully about them.</p>
<p>Best of luck to you and your family.</p>