No matter what it is you celebrate—or ignore—the “holiday season” is fraught with stressors.  The crowds, the traffic, the expectations of colleagues and family, the relentless holiday music —not to mention the financial strain felt by many—all contribute to frustration, short fuses, and forced smiles.
     For many of us, this season of stress will culminate in a shared meal—a gathering with family and friends who may be ‘nice enough,’ yet hold opinions vastly different from our own.  Things become strained when one or more family member passes judgment, and does so in a way that only family can:  by situating differences in entrenched power-dynamics (a successful lawyer returns to a table where her opinions are dismissed as her “still” looking for attention;  a college administrator married to  a Muslim is all-too-aware of the silences and eye-rolls).  Because every glance or comment potentially references old patterns of authority and control, tensions can readily erupt-- chairs are scraped back, a contingent retreats to the kitchen, coats are hastily retrieved. 

(STAGE DIRECTION:  Insert a “freeze frame” in the action, and a late-nite TV voice-over: “Don’t Let This Happen to Your Family!)    

     As we prepare to gather around a familial table (especially this year, when the country is overtly divided around election results) it will be helpful to begin strategizing ways to interrupt the bullying that recurs around your holiday table.  Even as you steel yourself for the anticipated comments (recalling what so antagonized you last year—and the year before that), identify what makes intervening difficult for you.  Once you have pinpointed your particular roadblocks, consider ways to get around them.  (What exit ramps and "Detour" signs are automatically bypassed on this emotional straightaway?)  What will prevent you—or sister Sue—from walking away, swearing “this is absolutely the last year we will put up with this %^$#!” (Only to do an encore of this dramatic exit next year, because you “come back for mom,” “want the kids to know their cousins / grandparents,” or because the train-wreck routinely occurs at your in-laws).
     This year, bring increased awareness to other dynamics around your table.  Are you the scapegoat, or is everyone bullied in small, passive-aggressive ways?  Who might you gently support?  Whose silence signals distress?  Compliance?  How do others see you and what is your role in sustaining these dynamics?
     ’Awareness’ is only the first of 5 steps identified by Latané and Darley in 1970, in their groundbreaking work on bystanders.  The subsequent steps include
2) Interpreting the event as requiring intervention;
3) Assuming responsibility;
4) Deciding how to help;
5) Confidence in capacity to help

     Often, we are quite good with steps 1 and 2, and are willing to take step 3.  But when it comes to family, the next two steps bedevil us.  We are not sure how to help, nor do we have confidence that our overtures will make a difference.
     This is often because of the (entrenched) response of the victim—whether it be you, your mother, or a sibling.  There is a ‘here we go again…’ quality to much holiday-table bullying, which allows it to tap into emotions that have been stockpiled for years.  Realize this.  Know that nothing you do will succeed if your objective is to to redress the disrespect of the present, as well as the slights of Holidays past.  If you instead allow the ghost of holidays present/future to show you the situation as though you were a bystander to your own dynamic, you will be able to focus on ways to interrupt the cycle.
     So—try ‘deciding how to help’ on the basis of doing nothing more than interrupting the expected course of things.  
article continues after advertisement1)  Take a deep breath.  And another.  Excuse yourself and go to the bathroom.
2)  Determine which of the 3 D’s best fits the situation:  Distract, Delegate, Delay

DISTRACT:    
It is well-known that the most tried-and-true way to successfully intervene is  to change the topic—but do so in a deliberate way.  Preface it with something like “y’know, saying that to Jo isn’t really in the spirit of the holiday—so let’s talk about what’s for dessert, or Tom’s new job, or how grateful I am for all the work that went into preparing this meal and the efforts everyone made to be here.”
Even as you deflect, you take an overt, yet gentle stand against the dynamics about to shift into gear.  Tensions may quietly simmer for a few moments, but they have not boiled over.  The conversation moves on.

DELEGATE:
Who else around the table looks uncomfortable?  S/he may not be willing to align themselves with you publicly, but they may be an ally in interrupting the too-familiar dynamic that is sliding into place.  Look for ways to connect with these relatives—over children, job frustrations, anything that encourages their voice.  You not only divert the conversation, but delegate some of the responsibility (for interrupting the cycle) to others, co-opting them into alliances and partnerships. 
  
DELAY:
Remember that intervening doesn’t always translate to championing the target of someone else’s aggressions.  If you can anticipate the emotional course before you arrive, think of new ways to delay it.  What (other than the game on TV) can sidetrack antagonists before the dynamic kicks in?  Sure you’ve tried this before, and everyone at the table knows the 3 topics that ‘always work,’ so come prepared with a fourth—something you’re passionate about.  A book you read / movie you saw, the intrigue at the office, someone new or funny or interesting that you’ve met.  Aim to engage the family member who initiates toxic relating.  Put your (proverbial) arm around her or his shoulder and steer them in a different direction. 
     As you sit around the table, wanting nothing but to relax because gifts have been given, food has been cooked, and you have duly ‘counted your blessings,’ take one further step, and consciously champion connection—even with folks who voted differently than you. Family tables are where we first learn that our silence keeps us out of the line of fire.  Around them sit the people we first bonded with, the ‘tribe’ of people to whom we somehow belong.  So smile, shrug your shoulders, refuse to engage, use body languageto signal connection to a relative when tensions surge around them.  Offer your own narrative, solicit others, praise the food, and realize that this is where tolerance of diversity begins. 
And remember, when they go low, you go high.

Parents have been known to badger their children about one thing or another—cajoling, yelling, reprimanding, restricting access, movement, funding…even shaming.

"HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU not to...'x'?
You think it's funny?
I've HAD IT with you. Go to your room.
And you can forget about the sleepover on Friday."

Without a doubt, it seems they bully—antagonizing and aggravating their charges on the basis of their "preferences" and "rules"—on an ongoing basis.

Perhaps this is why we seem so powerless in the face of bullying behaviors.
Perhaps we model (non-physical) aggressions in our homes—imposing values, isolating, punishing, humiliating—even as we decry the (re)enactment of these behaviors on the playground, in the hallways, on the bus, in the cafeteria.

Certainly this argument can be made. More than this, we train our children to be invested in what we think of them, then wring our hands when our children worry about what their peers think of their clothes, their hair, their features…

Both of these behaviors—and the dilemmas they suggest—are patterned during early childhood socialization, when children vest authority in the gaze of an other—their caregiver(s). During this period, they look to please those who have the power to judge (and punish).  

Their efforts (fealty?) may be an expression of love (if not dependence), a strategy in winning parental approval and affection, or simply a way to deflect anger / feel safe.
 
Note that these same motivations hold in the playground. 

Peers—like parents before them—are agents of socialization. In this role, they—like parents before them—evaluate and critique behaviors. One way that both parents and peers respond to untoward behavior is to parody it, teasing the transgressor. Parents usually employ this strategy in an attempt at humor, looking to lighten the critique and soften the judgment. Encouraging laughter is one way to signal that the mistake is forgivable, reparation can be made, the trespass will not sever relationship.  Even when caregivers yell, punish, and seem disgusted by the behavior of their charges, intentionally eliciting shame, guilt, and a sense of failure, there is usually a path toward redemption and reintegration.  (As Michael Lewis has argued, their intent is “to teach their children to internalize values and to motivate their children, in [their ] absence…not to violate these standards, rules, and goals. What better way to prevent the child from doing this than by producing a strong emotion? The production of shame, even at normal levels, is an ideal device for instilling internalized values.”)

The intent to elicit shame seems perilously close to—if not identical with—the behavior of peers who have been charged with bullying.  And in fact, the most significant difference between most parental discipline/shaming and most peer humiliation / bullying lies in the follow-up: in the potential for redemption. Young people may well critique, judge and even socialize peers into the group in ways that are reminiscent of—if not patterned on—the discipline found in their  homes. Yet they rarely follow through and admit of the possibility of reparation, forgiveness and the restoration of social bonds.  Rather, their judgments and critiques look to break connection—in ways that foster negative self-feelings. Their intent is to ridicule, and on that basis to reject any claims of ‘belonging.’   
 
Without the opportunity to atone, behavior-management skills—an acknowledgment of wrongdoing, a willingness to take responsibility, a display of remorse, and/or a correcting of behaviors—are useless. When the conditions for reparation and redemption—also patterned during early socialization—are not in the offing ("If you clean your room and promise not to do 'x' ever--and I mean ever--again, I'll think about letting you go on Friday"), the negotiation of criticism and humiliation is daunting—and the judgments passed are but stepping-stones to bullying.