My parents were middle school teachers. I don't know how they did it. I think they are other-worldy, or something.
I am remembering my middle school years... I've put a lot of that out of my mind. Not a lot of good memories.
I guess I was kind of like your son. I hated it. At the core, I really didn't like myself, and wanted desperately to be liked. Mostly, I took beatings, and worse.
In 6th grade I found something I was pretty good at- gymnastics. It was an OK place for a guy who didn't feel like he fit in. But then in 1 year from 7th to 8th grade I grew a 12" in height and DOUBLED my weight. That pretty much ended my gymnastics career, and any opportunity for anything athletic.
I won the Math Bee. Also was in an advanced experimental computer class. I was pretty smart, but that just made people hate me more.
I was a racial minority in the school I went to. That didn't help. My best friend up and moved one day with no warning. I never saw him again. I missed him terribly- he was all I had. He was cool, I was not, but he still liked me. It was over 30 years later that I learned he had been gang raped, and his parents moved to a "white town" to try to protect him. I was pretty angry at my parents when I learned as an adult that they had known that, and never told me, or cared enough about me to try to protect me from the same horror.
That's probably enough personal confession. Here's my take-away...
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First off, that "wolf pack" stuff is crap. Those are NOT his friends. Those are the guys he thinks are cool, but they hate him.
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Secondly- tell him so. I so desperately needed to hear from my parents not just that I was OK, but that the jerks were jerks. Don't be nice or politically correct about it. I needed my mother to tell me there were azzholes in the world, and that some of them had hurt my friend terribly, and that I could get hurt. I needed them to step in and DO SOMETHING about it. Instead, my parents were very proud about their community standing, and there were just some things that nice people don't talk about. berkeley that.
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Third- You gotta let his inner dweeb come out. You probably aren't totally comfortable with it. He probably doesn't need sports (that might be you, not him). That's just another place to prove how little he fits in. Mine was theatre. I didn't begin to grow up until I got to be loved by a bunch of theatre nerds. Maybe it's band- OK, so he can't be in the top band. How about an acapella group? A fife and bugle corps? One of the most fun bands I ever played in (believe it or not) was the VFW band. Bunch of old farts, but they sure had fun. I would almost guarantee the sports thing would not be positive. Star Trek Club? Science Club?
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Counseling- God I hated it. I felt like my parents couldn't handle things, and I was totally ashamed that I had to go to counseling. Having said that, consider it hard. Consider it for YOU, so you have the tools to help him. It's not that he won't listen, it's that he would be ashamed. Deal with it on that level. Help him understand that real men ask for help in ways like this, and introduce him to other kids who have done it.
I don't know if I am giving you anything- might just be digging up my own past. Hopefully you can glean something useful out of it.
I've got 2 sons now who show some of those characteristics, but we home school, and have been able to instill in them something I never had. They are not ashamed of who they are. That confidence in themselves has reaped relationships with other kids that are meaningful and worthwhile. They stay out of trouble.
Love him for who he is, and be his defender at times.