I should have recognized the signs.

Cordy was excited to go to summer camp at the start of the summer. She loves the camp she’s attended for several years, and the only concern she had this year was that her sister was going to be in the same group with her and would bother her. (Ah, sisters.) Other than worrying that we’d hear from the teachers that these two were constantly arguing with each other, we expected an easy-going summer.

But then around the start of July, I noticed a small shift. When I told Cordy she didn’t have summer camp because of the Fourth of July, she seemed happy about not needing to go that day. That was puzzling, since routine changes are generally frustrating for her, and I knew she liked her summer camp program.

I understood her anxiety about the day they performed Puss in Boots, even though she handled it well.

Then came days when she’s ask if she could just stay home. I know that being social can be hard for her, so I dismissed any concerns in my head because she didn’t have a specific reason for wanting to stay home other than “we’re there for a long time.” Her teachers didn’t say anything to us about it, so we didn’t worry.

Near mid-July, she told Aaron one morning that she didn’t want to go to this camp again next year. She asked if she could go to a camp for kids with autism. This didn’t totally catch us by surprise – she’s recently started working with a behaviorist and we’ve been discussing autism with her, so I assumed that she was noticing more differences between herself and other kids and was looking for a way to fit in. Maybe she thought that being around other kids with autism would make her feel more accepted?

This was around the same time that we started getting reports from the summer camp of behavior issues. She was overreacting to things and spiraling down into a pit of self-hate when given the slightest correction. While I was in Chicago, Aaron received a call from the pool when one of her teachers couldn’t get her to stop hitting herself after being told to not talk to strangers, and he calmed her down over the phone, thankfully.

I’ve been baffled at why this summer has been so much harder for her than previous summers. It couldn’t be just because her sister was in the same group – the teachers report that they don’t play together all that often, and when they do, there aren’t any issues.

And then on Friday, the pieces fell together. When Aaron picked the kids up from camp, one of the afternoon teachers asked if the girls had told us that Cordy (and Mira at times) were being bullied.

Bullied? It hadn’t been brought up at all by either of our daughters. We knew nothing about it.

We found out a boy in the upper elementary group, and his friends to a lesser extent, have been bullying Cordy for awhile now. Cordy and Mira are in lower elementary, but the two groups are together for a large part of the day. One story was that this boy and his friends like to play a certain board game in the afternoon, and Cordy likes to watch them play. They got annoyed at her asking so many questions, and one day the teacher asked Cordy to please watch quietly and not ask them questions while they played. That led to the boy trying to trick Cordy into asking a question each day so he could then send her away. (“Hey Cordy?” “What?” “Oooh, you asked a question! You have to get away from us now and can’t watch us play!”)

My older daughter is naturally a rule follower, so she’d have to comply, since the teacher was originally the one who asked her to not ask questions. Tricking her into asking a question seems cruel, though, and she wouldn’t tell when she was sent across the room, because she felt like she was the one who had done something wrong. Telling the teacher would only get her in more trouble in her mind. It sounds like he made up a lot of rules to force her to do what he wanted.

This same boy also would take toys that she brought to camp, playing keep-away from Cordy with his friends. He did the same to Mira, too, throwing her stuffed animal onto the roof of the camp building a few weeks ago.

He had been verbally ordering Cordy around, but it didn’t stop there. He also liked to “jinx” her. (Like we yelled as kids when you say the same thing at the same time.) He’d try to catch her saying something and then say the same thing with her. Then he’d yell “jinx!” and tell her she wasn’t allowed to speak again or he’d hit her. When she did accidentally speak, he followed through with his threat and hit her each time she spoke. Again, Cordy didn’t tell because she thought she had done something wrong and thought the teacher would side with him since she broke the rule.

It’s no wonder Cordy didn’t want to go to summer camp. She had to face each morning wondering what this bully was going to do to torment her that day.

Finding all of this out on Friday night (pieced together from what the afternoon teachers told Aaron and from what our kids finally shared with us), I was furious with this kid and a little angry with myself. This boy had been bullying my daughters for most of the summer, and I was thankful that I wasn’t the one picking the kids up that day or I would have asked Mira to point out this kid for me so I could have a few not-so-nice words with him. How dare this kid pick on a girl younger than him – a girl with special needs, too. I wanted to speak with this kid’s parents, too, although I had a feeling that if he was a bully, his parents probably already knew and tolerated it. Or worse – taught it to him.

But I was also upset that I missed the signs for most of the summer. Cordy’s behavior was off, she was happy for days she didn’t go to camp, and she was asking to go to another camp next year – I should have realized something like this was happening. There was no way to expect her to tell us that something was wrong. My sweet, innocent girl believed she was at fault for everything and that telling someone would only result in her getting into more trouble. She was convinced she was the problem, not the bully, and if she could just follow the (absurdly strict, made-up to guarantee failure) rules that the bully put in place, there wouldn’t have been any trouble.

Mira had known this kid was trouble the whole time, too, but didn’t speak up to us because Cordy didn’t want her to. Mira told us that this kid was in trouble all of the time at the camp, but the teachers didn’t see half of the things he did because he was sneaky.

We had a long talk on Friday night about bullying and why it’s always OK to tell on the bully. And it’s not just OK to tell on a bully, but it’s necessary to tell an adult. Reporting a bully will never make you a “tattle-tale” and we assured them that we will always stand with them if they’re being bullied.

We also discussed how they don’t need to listen to rules given to them by other kids that sound like mean rules – they can always check with a teacher or parent to verify if they have to follow what another kid says or not. We also taught Cordy new scripts to use – if a bully tries to tell her to do something that doesn’t sound right to her, she can respond, “I don’t have to listen to you. I’m going to ask an adult.” And if a bully threatens to hit her, she can say, “I’m telling an adult/teacher that you’re bullying me.”

I also took a somewhat controversial step in discussing how to handle a bully. Our children have been taught to never hit another person. But on Friday night, I made an exception. If a bully hits them, they should first try to get away and find an adult for help. This should always be the first thing to try. But if they can’t get away, or they fear for their safety after being hit once? Hit back. Hit, kick, scratch – anything to protect yourself until you can get away.

We went through several scenarios so Cordy could lock the script into her mind as to when it’s OK and when it’s not. As I’ve mentioned before, she’s a letter-of-the-law rule follower, and I know she’d only hit back if a situation met all of the conditions. Although Cordy abhors violence, she’s amazingly strong and could use that physical strength if needed. Yes, she’d likely get in trouble with the school/camp for hitting back, but if she was truly acting in self-defense after being attacked, she’d face no punishment from us.

I spent an entire childhood being bullied and told “just ignore the bully and they’ll leave you alone.” I can tell you that didn’t work. Ignoring them only meant they would escalate their attacks, and back then teachers weren’t as willing to get involved with reports of bullying. There were entire school years that I was miserable, fearing what would come next from the bullies and unable to ever feel like I could be myself or feel safe at school. I still think about missed opportunities I let pass by so I could continue to fly under the radar and not draw attention to myself by those waiting to shoot me down again. There were days I didn’t want to live any longer because of the harassment I endured.

I’m grateful that bullying has become a bigger issue now and that many schools take a zero tolerance policy with it, but I know it still happens. Unfortunately, Cordy is a very easy target for these kids. She’s trusting, she’s sweet, she’s an open book with no ability to have ulterior motives. She doesn’t understand sarcasm and often can’t tell when someone is making fun of her. And she’s a perfectionist, meaning she battles low self-esteem and tends to believe everything is her fault, so she’s less likely to tell on the bully and will instead hold it inside as her own personal shame.

If I could have my way, she’d no longer be a victim of bullying. We’re going to continue working on skills to recognize bullying and to make sure she always tells an adult. We’re also helping Mira understand why it’s important to not protect her sister’s secrets when it comes to bullying and to stand up for her sister.

I’m done with bullies. It took me years to find my inner strength as an adult, and I refuse to let my daughters go through that. Now that I know that bullies can’t control me, I won’t let them play with my daughters’ lives, either. Cordy has lost most of a summer to a bully, and I refuse to let that happen again.

Follow up: Aaron spoke with the camp again this morning, and we discovered this boy has been a problem for several kids, including ours. The boy wasn’t scheduled to be there for this last week of camp, thank goodness, and the head of the program also said she’s informed the boy’s parents that he won’t be allowed back next year. I’m glad they finally addressed it, although I wish it could have been caught earlier.