The Kid on the Fence

There once was a little boy that lived in a neighborhood, much like any normal suburban community. Rubber stamped, single-story homes dotted every street and each backyard was hemmed in with a beautiful, six-foot wooden fence guaranteed to keep in the dog while keeping out the neighbor’s kids. There were two particular houses, on one particular street, in this very particular suburb, where neighboring boys had each built playhouses in the backyard. 

Billy’s playhouse was an extravagant one.  He built it with every feature he ever wanted: swings, a long rope bridge, a towering playhouse, and a fireman’s pole. 

Timmy’s playhouse was next door, just over the fence. It was just as extravagant and fun to play on, with swings, a seesaw, TWO rope bridges, and a playhouse with stairs. 

Down the street lived Bobby.  Bobby didn’t build himself a playhouse.  All the kids in the neighborhood told Bobby that Billy and Timmy had the only playhouses worth playing on so he shouldn’t waste his time building one of his own. Bobby had heard also about all the fighting and how children were on one side of the fence playing on Billy’s playhouse, talking about the future and having fun yelling at Timmy and telling him how stupid his playhouse was. Timmy’s friends were on the other side of the fence. They screamed and hooted and hollered while playing in Timmy’s playhouse, all the while yelling over the fence at Billy’s friends. These “friends” told Billy how his playhouse was not inclusive, how he didn’t’ like other kids because they walked or talked funny, and overall how they were mean to all the other kids in the neighborhood. Billy’s friends yelled at Timmy’s, telling them how Timmy was just a bully and dictator and how he kept telling them how to think.

“Think for yourself Timmy! Stop telling others how they should play in your playhouse! Quit being so bossy and taking away their right to play how they want!”

“Quit it, Billy! You are mean and we believe you hate us because we are different.  You couldn’t possibly like anyone who plays over here!”

Meanwhile, Bobby had just finished his homework, and decided to stroll up the street and check out the two playhouses. As he neared them, he heard the kids in both backyards, yelling and screaming at one another. They were not really playing too much in their respective playhouses, save a few kids swinging quietly. Bobby walked over to Billy’s yard first, knocked politely on the gate, and asked if he could come in and play. Billy and his friends were leery at first, very hesitant to allow a stranger into their ranks. 

Bobby recently moved to the neighborhood and didn’t really know anyone. He was looking to make friends. The group of friends finally warmed up to Bobby and after a while, one of them started talking to him.  They asked him all sorts of questions about what he thought of Timmy, Timmy’s playhouse, and why he was talking to Timmy and his friends at school. Bobby begins to feel uncomfortable with the questions and Billy’s friends start to change how they treat him. 

“What do you mean Timmy’s not that bad? Do you agree with him?”

“Some things, yes,” says Bobby. 

“You can’t talk like that Bobby. Timmy is not a nice person. There is no way you can agree with him on anything he says and still play with us.” 

So, Bobby leaves, and walks next door to Timmy’s house.  He knocks quietly on the gate and Timmy walks up. “Hey Bobby, how are you man? I see you went over to Billy’s house first. How did that go? Did he constantly tell you how you were supposed to play in his playhouse?”

“Sort of. They did ask a lot of questions about you guys. I didn’t know the answers and told them I had only talked to you. That’s when they started to tell me I wasn’t welcome there anymore.”

“Why? Because you simply talked to us the other day?” said Timmy. 

“Well, yeah,” said Bobby.

“Don’t listen to those jerks, Bobby. All they want to do is tell you how you should play on their playground and that anyone who doesn’t play like they do, shouldn’t have the right to play in Bobby’s playhouse.”

“But I don’t understand? In school everyone is so nice to one another. Everyone plays together. We go to class together. What changes once we get back home?” said Bobby.

“It’s them,” says Timmy. “They talk nice to us at school and then come over here and play at Billy’s. Once they don’t have to look at us because of the fence, they  get really, really mean.”

“But Timmy, you can be just as mean. I heard you the whole time I was over there, yelling and screaming at them,” said Bobby. 

“What are you trying to say Bobby? We don’t listen to them? We listen fine. The problem is, they don’t want to hear what we have to say. They have the teachers on their side at school all day and then we get back here, they just keep telling us we are horrible kids because we don’t always want to play with them,” said Timmy. “Maybe we enjoy it over here just the same as they enjoy it over there? Maybe, we would be happy to play with them if they wouldn’t always tell us we are mean when we simply want to talk to them or play games?”

“I’m sorry Timmy, I was telling you what I heard,” said Bobby. 

“Maybe it’s time for you to leave Bobby. We like you, but it seems you don’t want to be on our side against Billy,” said Timmy. 

So, Bobby walked out of the gate and Timmy slammed it behind him. He stood outside for a while and listened to the two groups of friends go back to their normal ways of bickering. 

Then Bobby had an idea. Before he walked away in total frustration, he decided he would do something else. He looked around and found a good spot at the corner of both backyards, a place he could watch and observe both groups of friends as they played and yelled. He climbed the fence. That afternoon, Bobby perched himself up on that fence in the corner of the two yards, to listen and think. 

Bobby spent a long time on that fence. He listened to the two groups of friends argue and yell at each other for hours. It was the same arguments, over and over. No one changed what they had to say. It was as if they had rehearsed every line they used. Bobby heard them all before. Everywhere he ever lived, the division between kids was the same. What made this neighborhood any different? 

Still he listened. He wanted to hear what they had to say, even if it meant hearing the same things again and again. He listened the merits of their playhouses and the games they played. He especially enjoyed hearing individual friends talk about their lives and experiences when they weren’t hurling insults at the kids in the other yard. He was fascinated by their individual groups and was confused about how they could be so mean, when their stories were so similar. How was this possible?

For weeks, Bobby would sit in his spot atop the fence. He would sit there listening to the kids talk and play and banter back and forth. He took in some of the differing opinions on why their friend Timmy’s or Bobby’s playhouse was better, or how the games they played were more fun than the other group. Every once in a while, they stopped to ask Bobby why he was up there on the fence. He shouted back that he was just observing.  They all laughed at him and told him he was foolish, silly for not having fun with the rest of them. He laughed back, content with watching from afar and taking in all that he was learning.  

One day, Bobby came over to watch them play again. As usual, he stayed perched there a long while and listened. But he decided, today would be the day he knocked down the fence. He had no particular reason for knocking down the fence, except to stir up some controversy.  He wasn’t fanning the flames, instead he thought if he could get them to focus less on themselves, and more on his actions, maybe they could come together on something; anything. 

He took the first step and tried something very out of the ordinary: he kicked out one of the fence boards and it crashed into Billy’s yard. Bobby had never destroyed anything on purpose before, so this was very out of character for him. 

All the kids stopped and stared. He kicked another board out and it went crashing into Timmy’s yard. Still, the children kept staring at him.  With ever more vigor, Bobby kicked down the boards that comprised the fence separating the two yards. He alternated yards, breaking the boards and sending them flying all across each. Finally, the kids started yelling at Bobby, “Hey, you can’t do that!”

“Stop! You are breaking our parent’s fence!” 

“Why would you want to do that? We like the fence just the way it is, and it keeps us from seeing at each other! Our parents are going to be super mad!”

“Good!” Bobby said. “I’m sick and tired of listening to you yell at and fight with each other. You all have so much to offer. You could have so much fun together, playing and talking and building friendships. Instead you believe it is better to yell at each other. Think of all the fun you could have and games you could play if you didn’t fight so much.”

After Bobby had knocked all the boards down from the fence, he walked to where the two groups had gathered and listened as they both shouted insult after insult at him. The last thing Bobby heard as he walked away to his house was, “It doesn’t matter what you do, Bobby. You breaking down our fence won’t fix anything! You are the problem because you won’t pick a side. Our parents will fix this for us and there isn’t anything you can do about it. No matter what you do, you will not stop us from rebuilding this fence!” 

Bobby continued home, content to know he had made them stop fighting for a little while, maybe just long enough to come together on something. In the end, he had a new mission that summer: tear down the barrier between these two groups of friends and find a new way to help them play together.