My Son Was Assaulted at School and the School Didn’t Take It Seriously

Knives at School:  a Double-Edged Standard wasn’t as cathartic a post as I had hoped. I was still holding back an avalanche of frustration that I felt needed to be kept within our family, a private horror to be handled privately.

But it’s time for full disclosure. This story needs to be told, not just for me but for all parents. God forbid you find your family in a similar situation, but being prepared is never the wrong thing. I can share with you the mistakes we made to help you avoid them, and the decisions that helped us through. But first, let me tell you what happened four months ago:

My son was assaulted at school.

During school hours.

With a weapon obtained from the school.

When I randomly drew #127 from “150 Ways to Show Kids You Care,” it was more than the topic for my next blog post; it was a sign: #127 is “Help them take a stand and stand with them.” Now, my son is a pretty easy going kid. It takes a lot to press his buttons, especially in the highly social setting of school. Interaction with peers fills him up over and over again, and the natural high of being with friends allows the negative stuff to roll off his back. That is, unless things get bad enough. And they did. So bad, in fact, my son came home from school on a Friday and told his twin brother before he told his dad and me. Given how deep their sibling rivalry runs, this was huge: a signal our son was ready to stand up for himself and ask us, even his brother, to stand with him.

Because, twice, my son was choked to the point he couldn’t breathe. He was shoved into a set of lockers. A plastic knife, obtained from the school cafeteria, was used over and over again to saw at my son’s neck.

And the school thought a restorative justice-fueled, kum-by-yah session between my son and his attacker could solve this very serious situation. But the school’s position wasn’t clear at first and things started off as anyone would expect:

~My husband and I took our frightened and angry son first thing Monday morning to meet with the school principal.

~The principal suspended the perpetrator…for three days. He returned to school at the end of the same week.

~The attacker’s mother wrote a statement of apology that was read to me over the phone by the school principal. In her letter she asked for leniency because her troubled son (who receives some kind of resources through the school) was being “reflective” on his violent actions during his suspension.

~The perpetrator also wrote his own apology that stated “I was just joking around,” in reference to his attack on our son. Our son, and my husband and I, were not comforted by this statement.

The school tried to reassure our family that they “want what is best for both boys.” And what would that be? From my husband’s and my point-of-view what’s best for both boys is support. The perpetrator saw nothing wrong with his actions and needs help managing his impulses and actions so he doesn’t assault someone again. My son needs help working through the trauma of being cornered, suffocated and “knifed.”

The school police officer understood our family’s position and began an investigation, with the goal of determining whether our son’s attacker would qualify for a diversion, basically a youth-services program to help troubled kids. As he worked through interviewing an extensive list of witnesses and reviewing their written statements, however, the less we were convinced the school was on the same page:

…The principal reassured me the perpetrator’s mother was a “good mama.”

…The principal backpedaled on the idea of diversion (hmmm. I’m not sure we can DO this….), when she learned we were serious about pursuing the possibility. This is interesting because she was the one who brought up the idea of diversion in the first place and referred our family to the school’s police officer.

…The principal repeatedly reminded us, with the help of other school faculty, that the perpetrator was going to be homeschooled, and later we were told that he was still being homeschooled, and Did I know he was being homeschooled? As if that solves the problem. He may not be in the building, and my son is no longer on high-alert that he may encounter his attacker in the hallway, but just because this kid isn’t at school doesn’t change the fact he assaulted my son.

…The principal told my husband and me that she was “almost certain” the attacker was in counseling. Well, let’s just drop this whole matter because you are almost certain.

The school and principal didn’t come right out and say it, but it sure seemed they wanted us to drop our pursuit of help for this boy. He can’t traumatize your son anymore because he’s not at school. And Mom has impeccable maternal character so she must (almost certainly) be doing right by her boy and getting him therapy. So let’s just get these boys together to hug-it-out and forget this whole unfortunate incident happened, whaddya say? Our son says no. He is taking a stand. My husband and I say no. We stand with our son. We chose to move ahead with the police officer’s help.

But the school was undeterred.

In fact, the school chose to ignore our family’s wishes. My son couldn’t have been more clear: I don’t want to see him [the perpetrator] ever again. But the school tried to initiate a face-to-face counseling session between my son and his attacker to “work things out.” Imagine my surprise when the restorative justice coordinator called me to ask what I wanted to have happen in that meeting. Imagine her surprise that I wasn’t on board with her plan. Who gave her the green light to get the boys together? She wouldn’t tell me.

The school police officer understood the seriousness of our son’s assault. The school didn’t. Our friends and family were horrified. The school wasn’t. The school paid lip service to wanting “what’s best for both boys” but clearly whatever that was needed to fit within the school’s greater agenda. Which was what, exactly? Whatever it was must have included sweeping this serious problem under the carpet as quickly as possible, not wanting to make an effort to truly help these two boys. The school had such tunnel vision the principal didn’t realize that giving my phone number to the perpetrator’s mother may not be a great idea.

Really. You can’t make this stuff up.

When the investigation was completed and the evidence was clearly on my son’s side, a diversion was ordered. Immediately afterward, I got a voicemail from the school principal. The perpetrator’s mom wanted to talk with me, she said. Mom needed the “conversation piece” of this conflict on the books. We could meet at the school…supervised…the principal suggested, or

I can give Mom your phone number.

If this weren’t so incredibly idiotic, it would be funny. It’s not like these boys were calling each other “Poopy-Pants” on the jungle gym and a simple dialogue between mothers would set everything right. In short, I couldn’t reach the principal by phone so wrote her an email. In it, I said no. Do not ask me again to meet with this mother. A dialogue would be pointless. And do not ever again ask my son to meet with his attacker. If you do, he is to tell me. And the answer will still be

No.

I really, really hope that now the principal will finally understand what I had to remind her over and over during the last four months:

My son was assaulted at (your) school.

During school hours.

With a weapon obtained from (your) school.

Read: This is serious. Our family could hold your school liable. Do not push your weak agenda on us. Because:

Our family stand together. We will not allow the principal, another parent, or a restorative justice process force us into betraying our son and his trust.

In my next post, I’ll share what our family has learned from this experience, what could help your family if your child is bullied/assaulted/attacked.