Stupid Kid: Father Threatens Lawsuit Over Kid's Dumbass Facebook Postings

Being in the midst of confronting my own discipline challenges with my son, I was struck dumb by a story I read in yesterday's Atlanta Journal-Constitution

The story is about three middle school students who posted disparaging – and possibly career ending – statements about a teacher at their school on their Facebook pages. The statements ranged from saying the teacher was a pedophile and rapist to stating that the teacher was bipolar.

The school, rightly in my opinion, suspended the students because their statements were not grounded in any sort of truth and were disruptive to the learning environment at the school.

Of course, one of the kids' fathers is furious and says the school had no right to suspend the kids, calling it a violation of their privacy. They're considering a lawsuit says the father.

Ridiculous. Right?

Maybe not. Apparently, there is a precedent for allowing mouthy high school students who have no respect for anyone other than their selves to get away with slandering teachers or whoever else they want to via Facebook. Granted, what Katherine Evans said about her English teacher is not quite as bad as what these Georgia boys have done, it's still utterly disrespectful and instead of allowing her to move forward with a lawsuit her parents might have served both their daughter and society better by teaching her to mind her manners and show a little respect for the rest of the world.

Anyone who claims that getting in trouble for something you write on Facebook is a violation of your privacy is a fool. If you put it out there on a public profile you have no right to privacy. If you had a private account and the school hacked your account and read your postings, that's something else entirely. But that's not what happened in either of these cases.

I expect and try to teach my sons to care about others, to show them respect, and not say bad things about them. To that end, I try not to speak badly of people in front of my kids. If I found out either of them created a Facebook page (or whatever the cool means of communication is when their teenagers) that said ugly things about a teacher, a fellow student, or their archnemesis, I would put a stop to it immediately and they would have to go apologize in person to the person they hurt. Then, they would have their Facebook privileges taken away. Children, as I learn more and more every day, need structure and parental guidance – not parents who always tell them they're right even at the cost of someone else's dignity.

What say you?


Do kids (or adults) have a right to trash anyone they want to in a public medium with no consequences for their actions?


If your kid did something like this and got suspended would you sue or would you punish your child?

Summer Days

It is difficult for me to believe that what passes for summer today is in any way related to the summers I knew as a child. Although many of my memories are blurred around the edges, others remain pristine in their clarity and I play them out in my mind like an old home movie.

There I am, riding my bike around the neighborhood or to the park, alone. I'm probably nine. I ride my bike to my friend Neece's (pronounced like niece-y, short for Glenice) house and then we go to get a couple of other friends and soon a group of four or five girls tear through the neighborhood, pedaling as fast as we can, pretending to be Charlie's Angels or the Dukes of Hazzard.

I see a blanket of sunny days with brown-skinned arms and legs that would merit being told I was brown as a biscuit. Mornings spent helping my grandmother in her garden followed by afternoons of playing tag or shadow tag, kickball and baseball with my cousins and the other kids our age in the neighborhood. A box elder tree, mailbox, a stone, and a silver maple tree served as our bases. After lunch, we'd walk to the store where 50 cents bought a Coke and a candybar or pack of Now and Laters or a pack of candy cigarettes. The afternoons bled into evenings of running around in the yard catching lightning bugs and putting them in a mayonnaise jar with holes poked in the metal lid. Then, we'd sit on the porch and eat watermelon, spitting seeds out into the yard. Or maybe my aunt and uncle would show up and we'd pile into the car, barefoot and giggling and go to the lake where we'd grill hamburgers and skim stones as we watched the sun set.

And with the exception of helping my grandmother in the garden, or having a meal prepared for us, or interacting with the clerk at the store, or being driven somewhere, there was nary a grown-up in the picture. We were self-sufficient. And trusted. And confident and competent. Because our parents trusted us and trusted the world we lived in.

Now, at five I wasn't riding my bike through the neighborhood or walking to the store or park alone. But I was walking across the street to my friend Scotty's house. And I was playing outside for hours on end by myself. I'm sure my grandmother poked her head out once in a while to make sure I was still there, but she wasn't hovering over me, making sure I was engaged and entertained in something constructive. I didn't have a summer reading list or daily flash card time. I was free to imagine and be and create my own worlds where I was a race car driver or a mommy or a veterinarian or a doctor. I climbed trees and sang songs and chased the dog and had the opportunity to be a kid in ways I didn't always get to.

We blame video games and TV for our kids lack of activity and creativity; the rise in obesity, and all the rest of society's ills. But really? Isn't it our fault? We're the ones cowed by fear of bad things happening to our children if they're out of our sight for an instant. And we're the ones who either don't have the time or the inclination to get up and get out and do things.

I'm not saying I do. Clearly, I'm sitting here typing and sounding off on a perfectly gorgeous sunny morning. But, when I finish my coffee and Kashi, I do plan to get my boys outside today. At least for a while.

I may not be able to recreate my idealized summer, especially since school begins August 11 (thanks Mr. President for your stupid NCLB). But, I want to do my best to create some fun memories for these guys and to allow them the opportunities to make their own memories as they become capable and secure in their abilities to do so.