Many readers have been following the recent problems Ali Adem has had with one of his classmates, Efe. Their conflict has spilled over, partly due to my own ignorance of some areas of Turkish culture, and affected the relationship between Efe's mother and me. I have received many emails from readers offering support and advice, all greatly appreciated. I have also had meetings with school officials to solve the problem between the boys. The teacher stepped in immediately and handled the problem, speaking to the entire class and then speaking with both boys individually. I'm happy to report that now things seem to have settled down again.
In the course of my talks with school officials, I discovered some of the reasons behind Efe's actions and, possibly, the attitude of his mother. It seems that Efe's home life is very troubled and unsettled. As all parents know from experience, children learn and model their behavior and attitudes on what they learn at home. Efe's home is presently filled mostly with anger and raised voices, and this has been reflected in his anger towards others, including classmates and even his teachers. Rather than having a safe haven in his own house where he feels love and acceptance, Efe has to deal with parents who yell at him and each other rather than listening and trying to work out problems together. During a recent meeting between Ali Adem's teacher and all the parents of his classmates, Efe's mother announced that her husband had left their house. No one seemed too surprised by this news, which leads me to suspect that problems have been festering for quite awhile.
Soon after this meeting, Efe's mother arrived one afternoon to pick up her son from school, and she was obviously walking with difficulty. I heard her explain to the other mothers that she was having very bad back pain and was waiting to get a doctor's appointment to treat a spinal disc problem. I could understand her pain, as I too suffer from lower back problems, and at times it is hard for me to walk. When my husband came home that evening, I asked him to call Efe's mother on my behalf, since she speaks no English and I was afraid that my garbled Turkish might cause more problems. He explained to her that I was sorry for our misunderstanding and that I did not mean to insult her. He also told her that I had overheard her talking with the other mothers about her back problem and that since Ali Adem and I walk past their door every day to and from school. I would be happy to pick up Efe on the way to school and drop him off in the afternoon to help her out until she felt better. She seemed to appreciate my concern and offer of assistance and asked me to call her in the morning as Ali Adem and I left for the short walk to school, so she could send Efe downstairs to meet us. Ali Adem, who was listening, objected to having to walk to school with Efe, but I told him that this might give them the chance to be friends again. The next morning, however, she apparently had a change of mind. When I called, she told me that she had decided she did not want our help and she would take care of her son alone. Even though I reiterated my offer and said it would be no problem to pick up Efe, she was adamant that she would not accept my offer. In spite of my apologies and offers to help out, Efe's mother has not changed her attitude towards me.
I spoke last week with Ali Adem about Efe to find out more about how they were getting along at school. Efe's mother still does not allow them to play together at the park, but I do want Ali Adem to try and be friends with him again at school. Ali Adem would like to count him as a friend again too, and now on occasion they play together during recess. As we sat together, Ali Adem asked me why Efe seemed so mad all the time.
"Mommy," he said, snuggling into my arms, "When Baba is away, I miss him so much. Even though we call him every day and I know he loves me and misses me, it's hard. I miss him so much when he's away even though I know he will come back home soon. I wonder if Efe gets to call his baba every day like I do. Efe must be very sad if his mama and baba yell all the time -- I wish that he could have a nice home where everyone loves each other. I'm not going to say anything about his baba being gone because it will make him feel sadder. I don't want him to feel like that."
Hugging him even closer, and with tears welling up in my eyes, I realized that my son was wiser than I knew. I don't know if the rift between Efe's mother and me will ever be mended. However, from it I did learn an important lesson on how to deal with problems concerning classmates. I also learned a little more about how to navigate my way through the maze of personal relationships in a culture often very different from my own. I now realize that my direct approach of trying to tackle the problem head-on with another parent backfired, in part due to the fact that it did not give Efe's mother a chance to save face, as it were. Unfortunately, my speaking with her about the problem made her feel that I was criticizing her directly. Even more unfortunate is that she will not accept a sincere apology, thus creating a rift between two boys who once were friends. But, I have learned that my own 7-year-old son has learned to have an incredible amount of compassion for others. To me, that is the best lesson of all.
Send comments and questions to k.hamilton@todayszaman.com
