In Arizona, temperatures can easily remain above 100 degrees for weeks on end. For those who have never been here, Phoenix is the place where you can literally fry an egg on the sidewalk, dehydrate in less than thirty-minutes, or accidentally kill your pet or child by leaving them in the car for too long. Naturally, schools let out for summer vacation earlier than in most states to give kids a chance to enjoy some part of their summer vacation before the Phoenix heat shuts them in.

It was just prior to the close of the school year that an incident occurred in my kid’s school that enabled me to glean some insight into what I believe is a factor leading to the tragedies of Virginia Tech and Columbine High School.

In Phoenix’s Washington Elementary School District, at least in my children’s school, teachers are required to provide tutoring in their subject to their students. Typically tutoring occurs before classes and lasts anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour. Since I drive my kids to school every day there are occasions where it’s beneficial for me to take both kids to school a little early while one heads to tutoring.

It was on one of these days as I was walked my little girl, 10, to class that she confided in me that there was a boy on the playground who has been calling her names and making fun of her. I was told this on the condition that I wouldn’t say anything.

Apparently my wife already knew of this boy and his efforts to intimidate my daughter. I was kept in the dark because my wife and daughter feared that I would say or do something to embarrass my little girl more than this boy’s name calling.

As we waited by the classroom door, I was introduced to all of my daughter’s friends. Despite much coaxing by her friends my daughter didn’t want to go on the play ground because “he” was there. Within a minute I learned all I needed to know about this villain, as stream of information assaulted my ears from a half dozen gleefully chatty little girls.

In all honesty, I had a very difficult time believing that this boy all these little girls pointed to was any kind of bully. What I saw on the playground was a kid who was feeling his oats by barking orders to a bunch of boys who were willing to follow.

As these girls engulfed themselves in what constitutes fourth grade gossip, I took the opportunity to knock on my daughter’s classroom door. To my surprise her teacher let me in and I explained my daughter’s predicament. I was assured, in a most serious tone with a most concerned look, that the school had a strict policy on handling “these kinds of situations.” It was then I learned of the “Bully Box.”

The Bully Box is a box with a slit opening in the top with the words “Bully Box” on it. Students are required to write anonymous grievances when they feel that they are being bullied and place them in this box where they can be collected by the faculty. The faculty then tabulates and compares these grievances to determine if a student can legitimately be deemed a bully. If a child is labeled a bully by the quantity and quality of the grievances the school, without fear of a lawsuit, will act.

Her teacher explained, with a most serious face, that actions would include verbal warnings, written warnings, detention, and eventually a principals meeting with the child’s parents. I would assume that if all those corrective measures weren’t enough to adjust juniors conduct then a suspension would be in order. Reading the seriousness of her face as she spoke, I instantly understood that nothing would be done to help my daughter that is outside the context of this Bully protocol. I thanked her and rejoined my daughter outside.

My daughter was playing with her friends on today’s excuse for a risk free playground (No teeter totters? No monkey bars? Foam matting in place of sand?). It was interesting to watch my daughter interact with her friends. The faces, the gestures, and the sheer carefree abandon kids have when they exercise their unfettered freedom. Watching my daughter steer her own course lifted my spirits as I mentally prepared to start my work day.

It was at this point, when I was contemplating leaving, that my daughter’s tormentor came within five feet of me. My daughter was pretty far away and preoccupied playing. Despite my promise to my daughter- and the bully box explanation from my daughter’s teacher - I called to this boy.

I watched, with some degree of internal amusement, as his eyes widened as we neared each other. He and his two buddies looked like they were going to faint as they craned their necks skyward to look at my face when I spoke. Calmly I conveyed to this boy, who might have weighed as much as one of my legs, my daughters accusations against him. With a sinking look of panic I was assured by this boy that everything I‘d been told about him was completely untrue.

I explained to this boy that my daughter was not a liar. I further explained that all of my daughter’s girlfriends pointed only toward to him when talking about the playground bully who belittled them with hurtful words. I expressed that he, as a reasonable young man, had to appreciate my concern that anyone would be bothering on my daughter. Then I accidentally mentioned that my daughter had an over protective brother in sixth grade who, as of yet, didn’t know anything of this matter.

After a second of silence, as the gravity of what I just said sunk into the lad, I genuinely thought that this child was about to relieve himself right there on the playground. Naturally, feeling a bit guilty about intimidating an 11 year old, I offered him and honorable solution.

I told this young man that I was a decent man and that he appeared to me to be an honorable young person. I asked for his word that he would no longer bother my daughter or her friends on the playground. I explained that if this continued I would inform my son of his actions and then visit his house personally to talk his parents. He gave me his word, we shook hands, as gentlemen do, and I turned and walked away.

My daughter’s teacher was standing there watching me with indignant “how dare you” eyes. In front of her was my daughter who looked panicked, shocked and upset. Her teacher said nothing to me as I approached my daughter, told her that everything is fixed, kissed her on the forehead and told her have a great day. I went to work.

In my universe boys aren’t punks or bullies until their much older than eleven. At eleven most boys are just trying to see how far they can push things so they can set the boundaries for their assertiveness. To allow a ten year old to intimidate someone for a prolonged length of time only validates his behavior and solidifies those actions in his personality. At eleven, a boy needs to be confronted, intimidated, and treated with respect to educate him on how to grow into a proper man.

This well intentioned Bully Box idea is flawed. It stinks of political correctness and financial risk assessment. To allow the bullying to continue until the school feels it has enough evidence to act without incurring a lawsuit is scandalous. When is enough, enough? When a child can’t take anymore taunting and teasing, takes matters into his own hands, and goes to school with a knife or a handgun?

Childhood is a time of trial and error. It’s a time to try things on, to figure who you are in this world, and to push the envelope. Some trials are painful, some are humbling, some are embarrassing but all are necessary to the development of who we are as human beings. The education gained from these trials determines what is right and wrong, what is socially acceptable or unacceptable, it defines what type of person we are to become as adults.

The Bully Box, through some misguided micromanaged quasi-union defensive posture of protection, removes the creative ingenuity for young people to find equitable ways to resolve matters on their own. It creates the perception to those being tormented that the school doesn’t care. It hinders outstanding children’s ability to grow intellectually and permits unacceptable behavior to take root and flourish in otherwise good kids. It fosters the perception that extreme actions are in necessary to stop the torment. The Bully Box promotes a mindset that can lead to situations like Columbine and Virginia Tech.

My daughters bully turned out to be an honorable young man. He didn’t come within ten feet of my daughter or any of her friends for the remainder of the school year. Hopefully our chat, and my trust in his word and a handshake (a sadly missing contract these days), helped this boy as much as I helped my daughter.

My daughter was very upset with me for a few days. I can live with that. By the time school ended for the summer she hadn’t been harassed by this boy for more than two weeks and she thanked me in her own way.

I’m Dad. What else could I do?