The Nuances of Harlotry
The school texted me to say that Sal called another kid a vulgar name. When I called and asked what word, because I've never known her to use vulgarity – Joe and I never do, at
least not around her -- Vice Principal Caulis told me we'd discuss it when I saw him.
We met him twice before
and my diagnosis: socially awkward and maybe a little bit homophobic.
"She called another child a harlot," he said
and gazed just to the left of my head..
"Which child?" I asked.
He said, "That's not important" at exactly
the same time Sal said "Luz".
She was sitting behind me in a big amber beanbag.
"Luz deLazario? Her best friend? Well that's just ...."
"It doesn't matter who the child was. The point is, it's a degrading word and we
have a zero tolerance policy about bullying."
"I wasn't bullying her," she mumbled. "I wouldn't ever."
"Her side of the story is that she learned the
word from her Daddy Joseph," he said looking all around my head everywhere
except into my eyes.
"And Luz? Did she say she Sal bullied her?"
He shifted in his ancient, squeaky, pleather chair and
it rocked like it was about to tip over. "No, it's not a word in Luz's vocabulary.
She didn't know she was being bullied. A volunteer teachers' aide, the parent of
another child, heard the exchange."
I turned to Sal. "Okay, swee' pea. Tell me what happened. Did Daddy Joe teach you that word?"
She nodded her head.
"And what did he say it meant?" I asked. It was hard to conceive of a situation where
my uber-prudish husband would find it necessary to teach our 7 year old
daughter about harlots.
"He said it meant somebody who was loose."
"Like a loose woman?" I asked.
She shrugged.
"And he never told you it was an inappropriate
word?"
"Nooooo, he didn't." she whined.
Mr. Caulis asked her to explain exactly what 'loose'
meant.
She looked disdainful at the stupid question. "You know. *Loose*," she said and
demonstrated by moving her arms through the air sloppily and lolling her head
around.
Then it made sense.
"Luz is your BFF. Why'd you say she was loose?"
"I was kidding.
About her name, Luz," she said. "How it sounds like 'loose'."
"So you were making a joke?" I asked.
"Joke or not, it constitutes bullying. We have a zero ..."
"So now what, Mr. Caulis?" I said. "You're going to expel a 7 year old,
straight 'A's kid for saying that her best friend was 'loose'?" I flopped my arms and lolled my head around.
He leaned forward to put his folded hands on his desk.
His chair screeched like a mad cat.
"Mr. Frugé, if she had only used the word
'loose', it wouldn't be a problem," he said. "But 'harlot' is
different. It's more serious."
"Okay, then. I’ll start looking for another school today. Or are you going to have juvee
throw her into the clink too?"
He sighed like he was exhausted and rubbed at one eye.
That made his glasses lean crooked on
his nose, and that was kind of endearing. It
calmed me and I felt a little bit sorry for him.
"We're not expelling her. First time infraction for bullying is a 1 day
suspension and a 1 page essay on why it's bad.
"So she stays home tomorrow? Fine," I said. "We'll do something fun. A movie and snow cones, maybe.”
"Yay!" said Sal.
I stood up. "Anything
else?"
He sighed again. "No, Mr. Frugé. Thank you for coming in to take car of this."
"That's Frugé-Meyers," I reminded him.
"Yes, of course. I apologize Mr. Frugé-Meyers," he said. "And look ... for what it's worth, I
don't believe that Sal intentionally bullied Luz, so ... no essay is needed. Just take the day off and enjoy your
movie."
"It's cool," I said. "I get to spend a day with my daughter,
she gets a day off school, and Superintendent Maloney gets to see you're on top
of the school bullying thing. It's win-win-win."
So then when Joe came home that night, I got the
story. It started when he was explaining
to Sal how she was related to her Uncle Harlan and Aunt Charlotte. To her, they were always Uncle Har and Aunt
Char. Harlan is Joe's 2nd or 3rd cousin
on his mom's side, or something like that.
Somehow it came out that Aunt Char's real name was
Charlotte. Her next question was
inductive reasoning at its best, smart girl that she is.
"So is Uncle Har's real name 'Harlotte'?"
she asked him.
"So you told her it meant 'loose' and left it at
that? You didn't explain 'loose' in that
context?"
"No. She
was satisfied and I wasn't up to explaining the nuances of harlotry to my daughter at age 7."
"Why didn't you tell her it was a put-down word
we don't use?"
He looked at me like he didn't know me. "I did. I told her repeatedly it was a word not to say
because it would bother people."
"You told her it was a bad word?"
"Well, I didn't say 'bad,' but I said it was
inappropriate."
I paused. Joe
said, "Whoa. That's your mad face. Am I in trouble because I said harlot means
loose?"
"No, honeybear. You're not, but she is. She sat there and told Caulis and me both that
she didn't know it was a bad word."
Sal peeked in from around the kitchen doorway.
"You!" I said. "Daddy Joe DID tell you
it was a bad word, and not to say it. But you said it anyway."
She nodded her head.
"Sal!" Joe said. He squatted in front of
her so that she was slightly taller than him.
"You lied about me to the vice principal and then I looked like a
bad daddy. Like we weren't teaching you the right things. You know how really, really sad I am right now?"
She looked at the floor and nodded her head. This probably stung her more than any
punishment I’d give. There is no doubt that
Daddy Joe is her favorite and I'm a distant second. Thinking that he was hurt would be monumental
for her.
"So," he said. "You know what's next, right?"
She frowned. "Yes. Consequences."
"Hmm. Daddy Joe’s consequences for lying: um ... write 50 times 'I will not lie' and
show it to me when you're finished."
"Now," I said. "Daddy Mark’s consequences: no TV or internet,
plus write Mr Caulis a letter apologizing for lying."
"Okay," she said. "I guess we're not going to get snow
cones and a movie tomorrow, now?"
"You guess right,” I said. She was clearly repentant, so later that night
when she asked if she could watch TV with us, in lieu of being able to play
Super Mario Flash, we let her.
That next month we went to breakfast for Char's birthday. Harlan and Char made howling fools of themselves in the restaurant when Joe told them the story. Harlan laughed so hard he had to use napkins to wipe the tears off his face.
"’Harlot!’ Hoo-boy, that girl," he said. "What a firecracker. My brothers, you two have your work cut out for you."