The Buddy Bench

When my youngest grandson was in 2nd grade he was repeatedly bullied by a classmate. Not wanting to engage with the aggressor, he retreated to a green bench on the playground to sit by himself. After a short while he was joined by a girl in his class who came to keep him company. They have been friends ever since and will start Middle School together this fall.

The bench my grandson sat on is called a Buddy Bench. I took a picture of it over the Memorial Day weekend when we walked to his old elementary school so he could practice throwing and catching his baseball on the adjacent ballfield. It all started with a boy named Christian Bucks from York, Pennsylvania, who was facing the possibility of life at a new school as a first grader when his parents told him they might be moving to Germany. While looking into potential schools in Germany, Christian and his mother noticed a special bench on the playground at one of the schools. When they asked what it was, they were told the bench was for children who were feeling lonely and needed someone to reach out to them.

Facing the possibility of being lonely as a new kid in school, Christian could relate and thought the bench was a great idea. With the help of his mom, Christian talked with the principal of his new school and began a fundraiser to have one installed. Since then, the concept of the Buddy Bench has gone viral. Featured on the Today show, Matt Lauer called Christian his “new favorite kid.” Happily, such benches have been placed in schools across the country.

What a wonderful solution –sitting alone on a bench during recess as a signal to other kids that you are feeling lonely, anxious, or in need of support! It’s helping a multitude of youngsters learn how to process their emotions without acting out, teaching them it’s okay to ask for help while enabling their classmates to offer them solidarity and friendship.

Everybody has those days. I’ve been heartbroken since hearing about the shooting at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas, where nineteen mostly 10 and 11-year-old kids were gunned down. My youngest grandson is 11. As I watched him practice catching a baseball in his new glove that he’s so proud of, I felt a mixture of relief, joy, and a gnawing apprehension.

Such violence will happen again and again. My grandchildren are vulnerable. In fact, we are all vulnerable. It’s not just that times are tough; times are exponentially dangerous. Now more than ever we need to be there for each other, offering solidarity and friendship while being laser focused on finding solutions to a heinous crisis.