Unintentional consequences of my school stories

I am not sure what to make of my sensitive little girl Ella.

I showed the girls today some current stories that show the stupidity of "zero tolerance" policies at schools: of the Eagle Scout in upstate NY who was suspended for having a knife locked in the boy scout kit in his car, parked on school grounds, and also the story of the 6-year-old who excitedly brought his new Boy Scout utensil kit so he could eat lunch with it, and was consequently suspended.

I heard a whimper and glanced over at Ella. I was shocked to see the lower lip quivering and the eyes filling with tears at the idea of these injustices happening at school. I hastened to add that the parents of these two boys did what any sensible parent living in a free society would do: alert the media and let the truth of the story shine the light on these idiots. She felt a little better, but still not good. She asked me not to tell her any more.

It's a good thing I didn't tell her about the junior high school girl being strip-searched on suspicion of bringing Advil to school. (That one still really, really rankles me, partly because I can imagine myself being paralyzed if it had happened to me at the age of 13. I WAS one of those evildoers who brought ibuprofen to school, so it could have been me in that position.)

It is fortunate that Ella will not ever have to go to school, because I think I've--totally unintentionally--made her regard the idea with absolute fear and loathing. I guess she's a little young for these ideas. I don't mind her loathing arbitrary rules, but she doesn't need to loathe the idea of school, per se.

Thank goodness my children will never, NEVER have to put up with the crap those other kids must. (And if someone ever tried to hand it to them, boy would such people have some trouble on their hands. They'd have to deal with both me AND David.)

I just asked Madison why she thought Ella got so upset, and Madison told me that Ella was afraid something like that would happen to her at some point. "Doesn't she know that it never will?" I asked. "Daddy and I would never let that happen. And if it did, they'd regret it really quick."

"I don't think *I'll* ever be able to stand up to anyone," she said kind of mournfully.

"Are you kidding me?" I was surprised. "Madison, you're only ten. Trust me, you're being raised by David Ross. You have a tongue like a whip. When you're an adult, there will be none better."

She looked doubtful.

"Seriously," I continued. "But then again, you don't have to worry about standing up for yourself necessarily. We've got your back."

"As long as I want?"

"As long as you want."