About six or seven years ago, I got a late-night phone call from a woman I know. She was really upset and on the verge of crying when I answered. I remember the feelings associated with the conversation far more than I do the details, but I’ll never forget the emotions because I’ve thought about it over and over since then.
The woman was a teacher who hadn’t been teaching long. I don’t recall whether it was her first or second year, but I know she loved her middle school students very much. She was a very good and caring teacher — with a brilliant mind and flair for communicating effectively — the prototype of the rare sort of teacher who anyone would gladly trust his own children with. But on this night, she was upset and confused.
She was on a school trip with her students to Washington, D.C. At some point along the trip, some sort of bullying or rivalry started among her girls. I don’t remember if there was just one victim or if it was a conflict between groups. But whatever it was, it was the sort of ugly, mean, nasty thing that only kids of that age can do to one another. For this kind and loving teacher, it was enough to break her heart — partly because of the pain it was causing for students she loved and partly because it was reminding her of her own miserable school years at that age.
As we talked that night, I sat in a parking lot and listened, but I didn’t have any useful advice to offer. For all these years, I’ve been wondering about it. What causes kids to act this way to each other? And what can we do about it?

Real-life ‘ghost story’: The tale of a house that didn’t want me there
Why do presidents and candidates bother to release tax returns?
New YouTube channel launched for video versions of my essays
In the old Ginger or Mary Ann debate, I wanted a third choice
Sane people change systems with ideas, not by murdering people
ObamaCare must fail in long term, but conservatives can’t stop it now
Meeting with dead man left me pondering choices of life, death
I need a romantic partner who’s already facing her inner demons
Living behind a mask means you won’t allow real self to be loved