Why Labeling Ordinary Unkindness Is Making Our Daughters Relationally Fragile
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Why Labeling Ordinary Unkindness Is Making Our Daughters Relationally Fragile

Girls today find themselves in a confusing social arena, wrestling with unkind behavior and, sometimes, genuine patterns of bullying.

Rachael Culpepper
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4 min

Back-to-school season means early morning carpool lines, making sure backpacks don’t get left behind, and, for many parents, that sinking feeling when a daughter comes home and says someone was mean to her. The instinct is to reach for the “bullying” label. It’s the word that gets a school’s attention, the word that makes a mother’s protective instincts flare, the word we’ve been trained to listen for since our own school days.

But not every hurtful moment in a middle school hallway is bullying, and treating every unkindness as such can leave our daughters ill-prepared to navigate the important and valuable relationships in front of them.

Girls today find themselves in a confusing social arena, wrestling with unkind behavior and, sometimes, genuine patterns of bullying. The two are not the same thing, and how we help our daughters tell them apart shapes whether they grow up relationally resilient or relationally fragile. Much of what girls experience — and, if we’re honest, participate in — is garden-variety unkindness: gossip, selfishness, pride, a sharp word, a friend group that closes ranks for an afternoon. It’s evidence of something broken and self-centered in all of us, and it’s hurtful. But it doesn’t automatically belong under the bullying umbrella, which we should reserve for a real pattern, not a rough day.

At American Heritage Girls, we’ve spent three decades helping girls build character alongside their mothers and mentors. One of the most useful things we’ve learned is that girls don’t need a label like “bully” or “victim” handed to them nearly as much as they need a structure for evaluating what actually happened and a parent willing to walk through it with them rather than react on their behalf.

This fall, before you decide what happened to your daughter, try asking her these five questions instead.

How long has this been going on? A single sharp comment or one hard day at lunch is different from something that’s been happening for weeks. Bullying is a pattern, not an incident, and your daughter usually knows the difference before you do; she just needs to be asked.

Why do you think it happened? This question does something important: it invites your daughter to extend a charitable assumption toward the other girl before she decides how to respond. It doesn’t excuse cruelty, but it does keep your daughter’s own heart soft in the process.

Did it hurt your feelings, or did it scare you? Hurt feelings deserve comfort and coaching. Fear deserves your quick attention. This single question does more to separate ordinary unkindness from real bullying than almost anything else you can ask.

Is there anything you did that we should talk about, too? Girls are rarely on only one side of a conflict. Asking this isn’t about laying blame; it’s about raising a daughter who is honest enough to examine her own role, whichever side of it she’s on.

What do you need from me, and who else needs to know? Sometimes a daughter needs you simply to listen, and other times she needs you to call a teacher. Following through, and including the right adults, teaches a girl that asking for help is strength, not weakness. It also helps you discern whether this moment calls for compassion or for protection.

These five questions won’t resolve every situation in one conversation, and if what you hear points to real, sustained harm, act on it. Protecting your daughter is never something to talk yourself out of. But for the ordinary friction of girls growing up at school, this framework gives you and your daughter something better than a label. It provides a way to think clearly, respond with grace, and remember the dignity of the girls around her, even the ones who’ve hurt her.

That’s the work of raising a daughter who can tell the difference between a hard day and a real pattern, and who knows she can come to you no matter what the circumstances.

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Rachael Culpepper is the executive director for American Heritage Girls (AHG), the premier character and leadership development program for girls ages 5 to 18. Rachael has been involved in AHG’s mission to build women of integrity since the ministry’s founding in 1995.

This article is part of Upstream, The Daily Wire’s new home for culture and lifestyle. Real human insight and human stories — from our featured writers to you.

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