When There Are No Words

I was sitting with Ms. Art at our Girl's Varsity Basketball game on Friday night. We were entertaining T, cheerleader Q's 3 year old daughter, as mommy was occupied. She was sitting on my lap as she scribbled in the colouring book I brought for her, munching on Wheat Thins. While I had the munchkin, Ms. Art and I chatted about the game, our week, and how excited we were for Winter Break.

That's when Mo, my lead photographer for Yearbook and a 6th year night school student, sat behind me and wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered in my ear.

Mo: Ms. Walker, want to know a secret?
[T nuzzels into my chest to try and hear the secret.]
Me: Sure, what's up?
Mo: See that man right there, two over from you, in the front?
Me: The one in the plaid?
Mo: Yeah. That's my father.
Me: Oh really? Should I introduce myself?
Mo: Hahaha, oh no, don't do that. He hasn't said a single word to me since he got here.
Me: Huh???
Mo: Yeah, he's seen me and won't talk to me or look at me a second time.

Now, what would you have said? What do you tell a teenage girl, who's father is sitting right by her and is completely ignoring that she exists? What do you say to a girl who is 19 years old and just realized she has a sister who she didn't know existed? What do you say to a girl who sees that her father refuses to be in her life, but is willing to travel across town to go to his other daughter's basketball game? What do you say to the girl who sees that her father has managed to get one daughter out of his life (and who has now taken 6 years to graduate high school) but has gotten the other into one of the best public high school's in the city? What do you say?

I was in awe of her. Her tone claimed she didn't care. She brushed it off like a champ. She was able to laugh through the whole thing and keep doing what she was doing as if he wasn't there. She did that while I sat there, anger welling up in me and tears welling up in my eyes. I was trying to formulate the words I would say to that man. The words that would make him feel guilty for his crime against his own daughter. For more than just not being there, but pretending she doesn't exist. I imagined verbally pummeling him, making him feel tiny and awful about the decisions he made. I wanted him to feel the pain I imagined that Mo felt.

While Mo acted like she was fine, I knew she wasn't. Who can be fine with this situation? She didn't have to tell me that was her father. But I knew she told me because she needed to hear something. In the long pause in our dialogue, I wracked my brain for the perfect words to make her feel better. However, the truth is, there are no words that were going to heal that situation. There was nothing that I could do that could make it go away.

I've found in moments like this, where a child tells me some unimaginable thing has happened, there are only 3 words that are appropriate:

Me: Huh... well.... I love you. You are an amazing person and that's his loss to not have you in his life, not yours. You're better off with someone like that not in your life.
Mo: Oh I know... I just... yeah. I love you, too.
Me: Are you ok??
Mo: Yeah, I'm totally fine. I just wanted you to know.

That's when I squeezed her arms around me real tight and told her she didn't have to stay if she didn't want to. She said she was cool and sauntered off, taking pictures of the sporting event. She later introduced me to her sister that she just met, and her sister's teammates. She spent half of the next basketball game talking with her sister and getting to know her.

When there are no words that are going to solve the problem or heal the pain, I've found that "I love you" is what needs to be said. While it may not fix whatever is going on, it never hurts to know you have someone in your corner of the boxing ring of life.

Dance Like Nobody's Watching

One of my favourite little corny phrases goes as follows:

Dance like nobody's watching
Sing like nobody's listening
Love like you've never been hurt.

There are many variations on this, and they're on all types of inspirational posters, wall decals, etc. While I tend to dance like nobody's watching all the time, and sing whatever way I want, this little diddy speaks to me on a deeper level.

A few years ago I got into a difficult situation with one of my coworkers, who was a good friend of mine at the time. Some awful comments came out of her during our disagreement, and she was pretty critical of how I carry myself in the building. Our friendship was forever changed because of this situation, and a few moments from our disagreement are burned in my brain. Here's why...

Colleague: [Ms. Walker], you walk around here like you can afford to lost your job. You take risks that other people wouldn't take and it almost flaunts that fact that if you got fired, you'd be able to go home to your parents and they would take care of you and you would be fine. And you always do it 'for the sake of the kids' but real people can't do what you do because we can't afford to lose our jobs."
Me: [Long pause] Um, well, I don't try to act like that. And while you're probably right that my parents wouldn't let me live on the street if it came to that, I do what I do because it's the RIGHT thing for children. If that is going to get my fired, then so be it. But I bet I would be infinitely more devastated than the majority of people in this building if I was fired because this job means more to me than a paycheck, and that's why I do what I do every day.
Colleague: I'm just telling you people don't like how you walk around here, acting like you've got nothing to lose. We have A LOT to lose.

Now, of course, there are many offensive parts to this conversation. But let's look past that for a second. Let's focus on the following:

Colleague: [Ms. Walker], you walk around here like you can afford to lost your job. You take risks that other people wouldn't take and it almost flaunts that fact that if you got fired, you'd be able to go home to your parents and they would take care of you and you would be fine. And you always do it 'for the sake of the kids' but real people can't do what you do because we can't afford to lose our jobs."
Me: [Long pause] Um, well, I don't try to act like that. And while you're probably right that my parents wouldn't let me live on the street if it came to that, I do what I do because it's the RIGHT thing for children. If that is going to get my fired, then so be it. But I bet I would be infinitely more devastated than the majority of people in this building if I was fired because this job means more to me than a paycheck, and that's why I do what I do every day.
Colleague: I'm just telling you people don't like how you walk around here, acting like you've got nothing to lose. We have A LOT to lose.

To be fair, she is right about a few things. If I was fired tomorrow (God forbid), I wouldn't have to worry about finances as much as the average person. I am extraordinarily fortunate to have parents who are able to help me when I stumble as an adult. While I do have my own savings and would be relatively fine without assistance, it never hurts to know that if all went to hell, they'd have my back.

I bring this up now because I was having a conversation today with Mr. Social Worker that reminded me of this moment. He was explaining to me how he was beyond frustrated with the bureaucracy that is DCPS and how they ask for arbitrary information in order to appease their boss instead of thinking of realistic and effectively solutions to problems. I sympathize and told him that's often why there is such a high turnover rate in this school system. You can either care and try to change the system to the point where you burn out or get out, or you can become apathetic and let the bureaucracy continue as is. The conversation turned into a discussion about working smarter not harder, and other shared philosophies we have.

Then it got intimate. He told me his fantasy.

Mr. Social Worker's fantasy is to win the lottery. The Megamillions or something like that where you get $20 million or something ridiculous. However, unlike most people, he would still come to work every day, as usual, and do what he loves doing: working with troubled kids. The only difference between real life and his fantasy is that when people asked him to do things that he knew wouldn't directly benefit kids, he could say no and not worry about his family's security. He could break rules and not worry. He could speak freely and do what was right by kids 100% of the time.

He could take risks that others couldn't take and walk around like he could afford to lose his job.

Sound familiar?

If the ultimate fantasy is to be able to take risks without the "life cost", why can't we operate like that every day? I've apparently been acting like that since Day 1 and it's only brought great things to our self-contained programming. It attempted to bring academic integrity to our athletics program. It brought on a completely different type of sports team. It allowed us to redefine what an education looks like for people with Intellectual Disabilities in DCPS. It defied what others expected of students with Emotional Disabilities and Specific Learning Disabilities. All of this happened because when you do the right things for kids, they blossom, grow, and defy all odds.

I fantasize that one day everyone will be able to dance like nobody's watching, sing like nobody's listening, and take risks for kids like they can afford to lose their jobs. Maybe then our school would be functional.

How do you behavior manage mental illness?

I walked into the building,
Like any other day,
Except this morning Angie's voices
Were getting in the way.
You see, what was supposed to happen
Was Ms. Connolly's period one
But instead of walking in there
She barged in and said, "Listen son!
If you fucking touch me one more time
You're gonna have an issue!
Imma smoke your ass and you'll be sorry
Because nobody gonna miss you."
"Angie honey, sweetie pie
Walk with me this way.
Please step into my office
And say what you gotta say.
Tell me instead of that little boy –
I know it's not the same,
But I want you here in school and calm.
Did I tell you that I'm glad you came?"

Breathe in, breathe out
Wash, rinse, repeat

I walked into the building,
Like any other day,
Except this morning Ciara was angry
Because Dean Sanders got in the way.
"Why he so pressed when I come
Always gettin' me in trouble?
It's like I walk up to the door
And he wants to serve me double.
I just got back from suspension
I'm not tryna stay home no more
But he makes it hard to walk in here
Without it feeling like a chore."
"Ciara girl, baby cakes,
Let's take a breath real quick.
Come with me to my office,
I know just the trick.
I need your help with something, please,
You know I'm always way too busy,
Could you set this all up for me –
Your headphones can blast Shy Glizzy.
If you're not feeling better in 20 minutes
I'll let mom know you'll be right back,
But I really want you here today
We can get you back on track."

Breathe in, breathe out
Wash, rinse, repeat

I walked into the building,
Like any other day,
Except this morning Izzy couldn't
Put the past in it's rightful place.
"Imma fuck that bitch up!
I swearta God I will, jus you wait and see.
Imma tear this whole mothafucka down!
Today shit ain't right with me.
Ms. Walker don't give me one of your peps
I already know what you gonna say.
There's nothing you can tell me
That takes that bitches words away.
She wants to hurt me, go ahead
Imma a get her back, it's understood.
She better sleep with one eye open
If she knows what's for her own good."
"Izzi sweetheart, you know you're my girl,
And you're absolutely right,
There is nothing I can do or say
That erases what happened last night.
But I do know that you made some good choices
This morning by coming here.
Let's make some more and sort it out,
There's nothing here for you to fear.
I'm going to love you through every moment
And hug you when you need it,
But use your words to tell me,
Don't give up, please don't quit.
You've come so far from when we met
And we've got a ways to go –
Let's keep up this journey together,
I need you to remember, I'm with you though.
You can sit with me until you're ready
To get yourself to class.
Take your time, we'll hug it out.
Then I'll write you your pass."

Breathe in, breathe out
Wash, rinse, repeat

When I walk into the building,
Each and every day,
I never know what's waiting for me
That is going to get in the way.
It could be the voices in Angie's head,
Or Ciara's paranoia,
It could be Izzy's anger problems
Anything could be waiting for ya.
How do you behavior manage mental illness?
Does anyone have a clue?
I'm willing to take help from anyone.
At this point, anything will do.
I don't know how to call a foul
Without a referee –
At what point have they lost control?
Many times it's hard to see.
The moment I meet one child's needs
Another's crying out for help,
Their attention seeking methods
Are less talk... more yelp.
Cursing, yelling, hitting, crying
Fists, tears, kicks, screams
Heartbreak, mind blown
All lead to shattered dreams.
Fear of failure, fear of success,
Fear of others, fear of responsibility,
Fear of disappointment, fear of life!
Frustration with their limited ability
To express themselves clearly,
Say what they really mean,
They are trapped inside themselves all day,
Their real emotions never seen.
If I were them, I'd scream too,
But that doesn't make it alright.
This is a school building, after all,
Screaming children must remain out of sight.

If that's how I was treated
When I was in the most pain,
I'd act out and be ridiculous, too
From screaming, I would not refrain.
You'd hear me screaming loud and clear:
"You're going to listen to me,
Whether you like it or not,
Because I will be what I will be.
Call me crazy, call me stupid
Call me retarded, call me SPED.
You can call me whatever you want
It can't be worse than what's in my head.
Just help me please, make it stop!
I want to get my education today.
I will clearly do anything for you to see me
Nothing can get in my way."
That's what I hear over and over
These unique cries are the same,
So my question for you is:
How would you stop my students' pain?

It isn't solved with a special plan,
Nor can it be corrected with detention.
I can't do all day therapy,
And they've already been given their suspension.
None of these are working,
It's only making them act crazier.
Try giving Izzy another suspension,
This "behavior management" doesn't phase her.
Until my school comes up with another plan,
Each and every day I will feel
Like I am failing so many of my children
Because I can't make an appeal
To our schools' forms of behavior management
That clearly aren't working for my babies.
They need a different answer, another choice
I need a "Yes, this works", no more "Maybe"s.

I don't know how much longer we'll last
Without answering these kids cries,
Because our system claims to meet their needs,
But Professor Umbridge taught me, "I shall not tell lies."
So I tell my children every day,
"I'm going to love you through this, bear with me.
I'll do my very best to help you,
I'm trying every day, I need you trust me.

For now, that is going to have to be enough.
I am truly sorry."

Breathe in, breathe out
Wash, rinse, repeat.




(Names have been changed to protect individual's identities.)