After a long week of work, I was glad it was Friday. I took a warm, relaxing shower, changed into comfortable pajamas, made myself a cup of hot tea, and snuggled into my bed to watch one of my favorite television shows, Wendy Williams. Just as I got comfortable, I heard a “Boom! Boom! Boom!” at the front door.
My eyes widened in bewilderment as I thought, “who could be at my door this late?”
I instructed my son not to go to or answer the door as we both reached the entrances of our bedrooms at the same time. However, I went down one path to the front door and little did I know my son went down another. He got to the door before me.
Panicked, I said “What are you doing? Who’s at the door? Don’t open the door!”
Apparently, my son knew who was at the door. I stood frozen as two police officers walked into my house.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” I asked, frantically. Why were the police in my home?
“We received a call about abuse,” one officer responded.
“Abuse?! What?! What abuse?!”
Fourteen at the time, my youngest son answered, “She treats me like a prisoner! She won’t let me watch TV or play video games. I’m scared of her.”
The police directed their attention toward my son.
“That’s no reason to call the police. Sounds like you are just mad because you are being punished. Do you know what could happened because you called us? You are not being abused! Look at this house, you have lights and heat... it’s clean,” said one officer.
The other officer interjected, “We get calls for children who are actually abused. No food. Dirt and feces all over the floor...”
Tag teaming, the other officer added, “You are not being abused.”
After already having said it multiple times, my son said again, “‘I’m scared of her.”
The taller officer responded, “You keep saying that as if we are supposed to do something because you keep saying it.”
“Do you know where we could take you for making a false call like this?” Added the other officer.
In response, my son held out both of his hands as if to surrender to being handcuffed.
“Kid, you wouldn’t last where we can take you,” he said.
They left, but obviously my hope of relaxation had long since vanished. I cried myself to sleep that night. I was overwhelmed with guilt. I questioned myself over and over as to what I could have possibly done to make him call the police? Did I not love him enough? Did I not give him enough time and attention? What did I do?
My son apologized, but that did not answer my questions. All I can hope for is that one day my child will tell me why. At the same time, I have come to accept that I may never know why.
After sharing this story with a few close friends, I was dumbfounded to learn that I was not the only one who had experienced such a disconcerting event. The situation involving a child calling the police on his/her parent(s) is more common than I ever thought.
In my case, my son called the police because he had been grounded from all electronics because for two weeks, he had been untruthful in telling school officials that I beat him, that our home was a prison, and that he was scared to go home.
That was a difficult stretch for my son and I. Our relationship healed through these three strategies:
Keep talking. Although many times your child may not want to engage (mine didn’t!), find something that your child is interested in to spark a conversation. Clearly, my son and I needed to talk and build common ground in our relationship. Keep talking, even if you’re the one with most of the words at the beginning. Eventually, my son began reciprocating.
Take every opportunity to praise your child and express how much you love and support him. Adolescence is confusing and there are so many changes going on in their bodies, in their minds, and in their environments. They are making more choices every day, and they need praise when they make good choices. My son needed feedback, period, and even though he didn’t like being grounded, I made it clear that I still loved him as much as I loved him when he was little. Even though our relationship had changed, deep down, he still wanted to please me. He needed to know that I was proud of him and that he was one of my very highest priorities.
It takes a village. Stay engaged with your child’s education including consistent/frequent contact with teachers and guidance counselors. Remember that you are not alone, and you have a village of family, friends and professionals who can and want to help you when you need it. We all need help sometimes.
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