Tara looked at me. “You did? That’s really nice.”
I nodded.
“Well, I guess I’m not really surprised that you suspected me,” Tara said. “I know that I acted pretty bad last year—and maybe I haven’t been the nicest person. But I don’t want to be like that anymore. Um, would you guys accept my apology?”
“Maybe we should all start over,” Gwen said. “If that’s possible.”
“For sure!” Tara exclaimed. “Why not?”
We all looked at one another, not sure what to do next.
“So,” Sonali said to me, breaking the ice. “How’s Starburst doing?”
“She’s more adorable than ever,” I replied. “You should come over and see her.”
“I’d like that,” she answered.
“Me, too,” Gwen added. “How about today?”
I looked at Tara. “Since we can’t swim here, Tara and I were going to practice swimming and diving this afternoon at home. But you’re welcome to join us. It’d be fun!”
The coach blew his whistle.
“Well, we’ve got to go practice now,” Sonali said. “But we’ll bike over later, okay?”
“Great,” I said and smiled.
Summer gave us a last blast of heat, sending the thermometer soaring up to 96 degrees for our first meeting of “Safe Schools, Kind Communities.”
Around 6:00, Tyler and I began greeting guests at the door. Parents, teachers, and students arrived carrying casseroles, salads, pans of bars, and bags of chips.
“What a beautiful home!”
“What a great idea!”
“Head straight through to the kitchen,” Tyler said.
“Food goes on the counter,” I added.
Gwen and her mom and Sonali and her parents showed up together. Sonali’s mom had helped Gwen’s mom find their apartment, and they’d been friends ever since.
Sonali nudged me. “I can’t wait for my mom to see Starburst!” To my relief, things were much better now between us. She and Gwen had come over several times after practice to see the llamas and to swim in the lake. We’d talked out everything until it felt as if we were back to being good friends again—like before.
I braced myself for how it would be to see Jadyn after her two-week suspension from the team. Though I knew her parents were involved with the meeting, I wondered if Jadyn might stay home.
Smoke curled up from the grill as Dad cooked chicken drumsticks and hamburgers. My all-time favorite teacher, Ms. Rundell—Edgewater’s art teacher—was there, too.
“What have you been working on this summer, Chrissa?” She flashed a bright smile.
“Let me show you.”
First I led her to Nana’s sunroom and showed her my craft table.
“How wonderful that you have your own space to work in!”
Then I led her to the pottery studio and showed her the ceramic tiles that Tara, Sonali, Gwen, and I had glazed. Each tile was painted differently, but in the center of each one was a word. One said “friendship,” another said “kindness,” and another said “trust.” I pointed out the two I’d made—“strength” and “hello.”
“Hello?” Ms. Rundell asked.
“It’s the first word in a friendship,” I explained.
She studied the tiles a moment longer, and then her face lighted up. “You girls have given me an idea. What if every student made a tile like this with a word that matters to him or her—a word that helps build the kind of school we want? I bet we could get the principal to give us some wall space for the project. What do you think?”
I could already see it. “I think it’s great! Dad could help.”
After a huge potluck dinner—with all the adults and kids at tables out on the lawn—the meeting began. Dad stepped toward a portable microphone that Coach Beck had brought for the occasion. “Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight. We’ve gathered as parents to work with and support the school’s new anti-bullying program that starts when school resumes on Wednesday. Our job as parents, teachers, and students is to make sure the program gets launched and continues forward. Mrs. Ziminsky is here to tell us more.”
People clapped. Joel whistled, two fingers to his lips. He stood with his parents and two brothers and stopped whistling only when his dad motioned to him that that was enough.
Then Edgewater’s principal, Mrs. Ziminsky, spoke about the problem and how other schools had developed plans to end bullying and make schools safer and friendlier places. “Every inch of school should be a safe zone,” she said. “Students shouldn’t have to worry about mistreatment when they enter the doors of Edgewater Elementary or when they leave.”
More clapping erupted.
Next, Mrs. Johnson—Jadyn’s mom—talked about cyber-bullying in particular. “You don’t ever think it could be your child who might be the victim—or the bully.” She paused. “But then it is. As parents, we need to be more involved with our kids’ computer usage and take responsibility for what our kids are doing.”
I looked around for Jadyn.
The meeting lasted nearly an hour, with adults and even a few kids sharing their ideas. Near the end, Tyler and I passed out bookmarks that we’d helped design, print, and cut. Sonali, Gwen, and Tara had helped, too, by gluing dried summer flowers onto each one before we laminated them. And then we’d tied a tassel of yarn that had come from our own llamas. They were works of art! To my surprise, I noticed Tara and Jadyn sitting together at the far table, side by side, with Tara’s mother, whose hair always looked Hollywood perfect. I walked over to them. Though Tara and I were becoming friends, I was glad that she hadn’t abandoned Jadyn. “Here you go,” I said, handing them bookmarks.
“Thanks,” Tara replied. “Gee, they look great!”
I smiled back. “They should—you helped. Um, hi, Jadyn,” I added. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She drew in an uneasy breath and nodded.
Then together, everyone was asked to stand and read the words on the bookmarks. Our voices floated over the warm summer evening, blending with the song of crickets and seagulls. We read:
I promise to be kind to others,
and to treat others
as I wish to be treated.
I promise that when I witness mistreatment,
I will speak out against it.
If I hurt someone with my words or actions,
I will sincerely apologize and
make it right with that person.
After the formal part of the meeting was over, Tyler and I helped serve strawberry shortcake topped with swirls of whipped cream. While the parents visited over coffee, kids spread out across the lawn. To help keep away mosquitoes, Dad lit torches and started a bonfire. A few kids changed into swimsuits and played along the sandy shore.
“Hey,” Tyler suggested to some of us older kids, “let’s play cards!”
Gwen, Sonali, Joel, and I joined Tyler in the gazebo. I shuffled the deck until I was certain the cards were completely mixed and ready for a new game.
Tyler, who barely showed signs now of having hit his head, looked over his shoulder and whispered, “Hey, look who’s over there.” He looked right at me, and in a Brain-Scan moment, I knew who he was talking about before even looking. I turned.
Tara and Jadyn wandered a few yards from the gazebo. They gazed at the younger kids working on sand castles but seemed uncertain of what to do or where they fit in.
I waved them over. “C’mon, you two! We’re just starting a new game.”
They brightened and headed our way. I handed the deck of cards to Tyler, unfolded two more chairs, and pulled them over to the table.
“You’re sure?” Jadyn asked.
“Absolutely,” Tyler replied, dealing cards one by one across the table. Jadyn sat directly to his left.
For a few seconds, Jadyn and Tara were silent as they picked up their cards and sorted them.
“Thanks for including us,” Jadyn said as she played her first card.
Tara
nodded her head as she looked at her cards. “Yeah, thanks. But I better warn you, I’m pretty good.”
“Ah, but you—” Tyler said grandly, “—haven’t yet faced the Defender of the Galaxy!”
Joel boomed, “Brace yourselves for defeat!”
“Uh-oh,” I said, with an exaggerated sigh. “Here we go again!”
Outside the gazebo, the bonfire illuminated the gathering shadows. In chairs beside the fire, Mom visited with other mothers. Nana carried Starburst in her arms, to the obvious delight of younger children.
Our laughter rose from the gazebo and carried across Lake Chandler.
I couldn’t have hoped for a better beginning to fifth grade.
Meet the Author
Mary Casanova has published more than twenty books, including Chrissa, Jess, and Cécile: Gates of Gold, also for American Girl. To write Chrissa Stands Strong, she tapped into her own childhood memories, as well as drawing on her experiences as a parent of two children who are recently graduated from college. She and her husband live in northern Minnesota, where they ride their horses, Midnight and JJ, and explore Rainy Lake and Voyageurs National Park with their two dogs.
Special thanks to Patti Kelley Criswell, MSW, Dr. Michael Obsatz, and Susan Kovacs
Letter from American Girl
Dear Readers,
As Chrissa discovers, there are ways to stand strong and put an end to bullying—but it isn’t always easy. Standing strong works best when you have friends and family to support you, and when your school and community take a stand against bullying.
But the more we talk about bullying, the more we can stop it. Speak out if it’s happening to you—or if you see it happen to others. And be sure to let adults know what’s going on.
Chrissa’s stories were inspired by letters from real girls, just like you. We’ve included some letters on the next few pages. Think about your own story as you read them. You can also keep the conversation going by finding others who have read the Chrissa books and talking about her story. If you need help getting started, use these questions to begin the discussion.
Most important, keep talking. Keep trying. Together we will make a difference.
Your friends at American Girl
Real Girls, Real Letters
Picked On
Dear AG,
All the kids pick on me because I’m different. They say I have cooties and call me names. I keep getting the same advice: “Just ignore it.” “Laugh and pretend it’s funny.” Can you give some different advice?
—Not Laughing
What these kids are doing is wrong and cruel. With teasing this mean, an adult should get involved. You should talk to your parents, and together, you should go to the teacher or principal. Above all, don’t let these kids make you feel bad about yourself. Find things that you love to do and put your heart into doing them. A lot of creative, talented people were picked on for being “different” when they were kids. In truth, our differences are what make us interesting. Try hard to be proud of the girl you are, and remember that it’s the girls who are true to themselves who will be the happiest in the end.
Honesty
Dear American Girl,
One of my friends lives very close to me. We visit each other a lot—almost every day. Usually we have fun, but lately it’s getting boring. The problem is that I don’t know how to turn her down. I’m afraid I’ll hurt her feelings if I tell her the truth!
—Bored but can’t admit it
Just because you live close to someone doesn’t mean you have to spend every day together. It’s okay to let your friend know that you have other things to do. The key is to say it in a way that isn’t hurtful. Try something like, “Today isn’t good. How about tomorrow?” Or “I have stuff to do today—are you free on Saturday?” As long as you are nice about it, she should understand.
But maybe you and your friend just need to get creative. Let her know in a nice way how you’re feeling, and then suggest something like a trip to the library to look up new projects or games to try. With a little effort, you might get the good times rolling again!
To: American Girl
From: Divided
Subject: Choices
Dear AG,
I have a new friend here at school. My other friends don’t like her. They say they won’t be my friends if I hang out with her. What should I do?
You are being bullied and you should stand up for yourself. If you let others make decisions for you, you won’t feel in charge of your life, and it’s doubtful that you will be happy. Instead, let your friends know that you’ll be making your own choices. It may be hard at first, but down the road, you’ll be glad you listened to your heart.
On and Off
Dear AG,
This girl and I have been friends for most of our lives. We do the same things, have the same opinions, and even wear the same clothes! But lately, we have been fighting a lot and sometimes we are so mad that we don’t talk to each other. We do apologize eventually but always end up in another fight. I can’t deal with this on-and-off thing. What should I do?
—Confused
Friendship is like a dance. Sometimes you’re closer and sometimes farther away. Just because you have a long history with this girl does not mean that you have to be together all the time. It doesn’t even mean that you’ll be lifelong friends. People—and friendships—change over time. Maybe the two of you need to agree to step back a bit, give each other some space, and then see how it goes from there. Good luck!
BFF Bully
Dear American Girl,
I have a best friend, and we do everything together. Last night we had a sleepover and she told me that if I want to be her real BF, I would have to take a test! I said I would think about it, and now she is really mad. HELP! I’m not sure what to do.
—Wondering
It sounds as if your friend is trying to control you, and control in a friendship is never a good thing. In healthy relationships, you don’t have to “prove” yourself. You were right to tell her you would think about it. Let her know that while you want to be her friend, your word and your friendship will have to be enough.
Making It Right
Dear AG,
I used to be great friends with a girl when we were in third grade, but when she started hanging out with someone else I got angry. I sent her nasty messages and was awful to her. Now we’re going into sixth grade, and I want to be friends again—but how? Is it too late? Should I try? Please help!
—Sorry
Yes, you should try. Start by talking to her. Admit your mistakes from the past, apologize, and ask her if you can be friends again. Even though what happened between you seems like ancient history, it may take some time for this girl to feel comfortable around you again, so be patient. If it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll know that you did what you could to make things right.
Discussion Questions
1. The term cyber-bullying is used throughout the book. What is cyber-bullying? Have you known anyone affected by it? What do you think should be done about this problem? Can you think of some ways to stop cyber-bullying?
2. There are references to “stealing friends” in this story. What is meant by “stealing” a friend? Can friends really be “stolen”? If so, how does it happen? If not, what can be blamed for changes in a friendship?
3. Chrissa wants to give Tara a second chance at being friends, but Gwen and Sonali aren’t so sure. Does everyone deserve a second chance? What would you do in this situation?
4. Chrissa wonders if Tara is influencing her. Can friends or others influence our behavior? Have you ever found yourself acting differently around a friend? Was it a problem? If so, what should you do about it?
5. Chrissa wants to tell her parents what’s going on, but she doesn’t. Later, when she does talk to them, things get better. Why do you think she waited? Is it hard to talk to grown-ups? What can adults do to make it easier to talk to them?
6. Chrissa worries
about being a “tattletale.” At the pool, she knows that what Tara is doing is wrong but she doesn’t stop it—and Tyler ends up hurt. What is the difference between telling and tattling? Do you think it was fair that Chrissa got in trouble for not telling? Why or why not?
7. Jadyn tries to explain why she bullied the other girls online. What do you think Jadyn should have done instead? Have you ever done something you regret? Were you able to “make it right” with the people involved?
8. Jadyn’s parents and the Maxwells take steps to support an anti-bullying program being developed at the school. How do you think a school program could help? What could you do to make a difference in your school?
My left hand shifted down the neck of my guitar, fingers pressing into the frets to form chords, while my right hand sailed over the strings with my favorite pick. I knew every note of “April Springs.” I didn’t have to look at my sheet music or think about how to play the song. I just let go and played, feeling the music as if it was flowing out of my heart.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Dad waving me down from a few feet away.
Startled, I clamped my hand over my guitar’s neck, muting its sound mid-chord. It took me a moment to realize I didn’t hear the buzzy twang of Dad’s bass guitar. I glanced around. The rest of our band wasn’t playing, either.
“Sorry,” I said, feeling my cheeks turn hot pink.
“No worries,” Dad said, winking. “I know you love that one. And you were singing with so much heart that it nearly broke mine to stop you.”
Chrissa Stands Strong Page 7