05/30/2026
A few weeks ago, I got called into my 14-year-old son’s school.
“He has bullied another child,” I was told, “and will be suspended for three days.”
I was aghast and confused. My son—who, like a typical 14-year-old, is certainly not perfect—is not a bully.
“What happened, may I ask?” I asked the teacher.
“He called another student a name,” I was told.
“A name?” I was puzzled.
I learned some more details, none of which constituted bullying, and attempted to argue my case. I was told that the school had a zero-tolerance policy for name-calling and that the child—another 14-year-old boy—now felt “unsafe” attending school. His parents, I was informed, were upset.
Unsafe?
These boys had spent four years in the same classroom. Yes, my son is a very tall white kid who can seem intimidating, but bullying is not what he’s about, and it certainly wasn’t what this was.
As I told this story to friends and other parents, many could relate. In our efforts to correct and protect our children from the kinds of abuse that our generation—and many generations before us—were subjected to unchecked, we may have gone too far.
Name-calling is now bullying. Asking someone to repeat a word because their accent wasn’t clear is discrimination. Patting a girl on her lower back the same way you would a guy friend in public is sexual harassment. Calling someone out for dishonesty or disloyalty is social aggression.
The “victims” of these “assaults,” therefore, need protection—from parents, teachers, and administrators—and are expected to carry the “trauma” of these events with them.
Some research suggests that this mindset may contribute to anxiety and depression in young people, while reinforcing a belief that the world is fundamentally unsafe and that they require constant protection from others. Children who are shielded from ordinary social conflict may grow up with a tendency to see themselves as victims, always looking for someone to blame. Many struggle to adjust to college and workplace environments. They may quit more easily and demonstrate a lower capacity to persevere through difficult situations.
We do our children a disservice when we intervene in every social interaction they dislike, amplifying its significance and projecting our own childhood experiences and unresolved wounds onto them.
***read the rest of my new piece on Substack***
When Everything Is Trauma, Nothing Is: The Hidden Cost of Overprotecting Our Children