My 12 year old daughter, Meghan, was suffering in school. She was being bullied and rejected by the other students, and had become the class scapegoat. I scheduled yet another meeting with Meghan’s teacher. I liked this teacher, her heart was in the right place and she really seemed to care about Meghan. I doubt a parent could find a more caring teacher. She really seemed to know Meghan’s strengths, her weaknesses, and genuinely wanted to help us with the problems we were having at school.   I told her how weary I was with the bullying that Meghan was enduring, and how worried I was watching her change from being a confident, happy child to a nervous and depressed ghost of her former self.

The teacher gently explained to me that Meghan was instigating some of the kids, and that the bullying was not a one way street. I countered with all of the suffering and pain she was showing me at home, where she dropped her mask of indifference. The teacher presented a laundry list of Meghan’s repeated passive/aggressive transgressions toward both the teachers and the other children and put forth a fairly convincing argument that Meghan’s quiet insubordination in school had caused the other children to ostracize her. She was convinced that Meghan’s disrespect was something I needed to address, and that she needed to understand that she had to follow the teacher’s instructions.

When the teacher provided specifics regarding Meghan’s behavior. I could feel myself getting angry with  my daughter. Here I was, going to bat for her and instead-- got ambushed with a list of the ways she had misbehaved. She continually refused to follow the teacher’s instructions, intentionally lagged behind in the line to slow up the class when they were in a hurry, left her book in the desk when directed to go to a certain page for class instruction and so on. I silently raged inside. I decided that whatever the bullying problem was, and regardless of the sympathy I felt, Meghan’s behavior must be addressed.

At dismissal, Meghan walked to the car. I was ready to deliver the punishment when something inside me stirred. I saw her pain in her posture and in her shuffle. When she entered the car, the look of relief I longed to see in her eyes was absent. There was nothing but more agony.

Rather than  just adopt the teacher’s perspective or operate directly from my earlier anger, I felt soft and compassionate, and recalled what I learned from the Magical Listening course. I was astonished by what I was able to ”hear” and  understand through Meghan’s fumbled attempts at communication when I changed the way I listened. I had clarity and saw that her behavior toward the teacher was her way of dismissing her when she had failed to protect her. She was “acting out” for a whole set of “good reasons,” including wanting others to think the bullying was no big deal.  I recognized this was her effort to convince herself of that as well.  She was getting little or no comfort, no validation, not enough protection, and was losing hope that there would ever be a  “solution” to the emotional “torture” being inflicted on her.  So she was giving some of it back, acting indifferent as a buffer,  feeling angry at being unsupported, and shielding herself from the sadness and the vulnerability. 

I saw my little girl again—kind hearted, just wanting to fit in and get along, a bit shy and yet longing for friendships and connections.  I wanted to cry, and I wanted to help her cry.   I committed to being the type of parent that would not be dismissed by my child—that would settle for a relationship based on chronic misunderstandings and unresolvable conflicts.. I knew we had more tough times ahead with the teenage years right around the corner, and was willing to let her behavior in class “slide” in order to fulfill the more important role of parenting, to be a force of understanding and support. Instead of becoming just another person who dismissed my daughter and was, therefore, disregarded by her, I   was able to look past the behavior, and directly communicate with her in the places where she was really hurting.  Although it was counterintuitive and seemed so illogical to support her through her “bad” behavior, Magical Listening allowed me to see the behavior as my daughter’s response to being wounded and feeling helpless and, more importantly, to establish a relationship of trust where she can always feel that she is loved and treasured.