Working with Messy Kids Part 1

How I Got Started

Recently, I was asked to give a talk about my job working with “juvenile offenders” for a women’s group my mother is a part of. Even though it was longer than intended, I was well received. There has been some mention of me possibly doing something again, with a larger audience and shorter duration. One attendee even suggested that I submit for publication in a magazine. I don’t know about all that, but I did think it makes sense for me to post my thoughts here. The content has been edited to fit the different format.
Essentially, this is the story of what it’s been like for me, a middle class woman who grew up in a stable home with no major threats to my well-being, to enter into a community where that is far from the norm. This is some of the things I’ve noticed and learned while working with these kids and families. Most significantly, this tells some of the ways I’ve had to shift my thinking and my perception of those around me. I recently heard someone say, “You can’t change what’s around you without changing what’s within you.” I have definitely found that to be true.​

This story focuses on the broad trends. Delving into all of the nuance and exceptions would take years. Besides, the core problems are with the big trends and too much information can be a distraction. For example, everyone knows the Mississippi River runs north to south. That one guy who tries to argue against that by naming all the jogs and bends where the direction changes briefly is just a jerk who’s missing the point.

Flowers from students who graduated last May

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I never wanted to be a teacher. When I got my undergraduate degree in biology, I had vague ambitions of studying tree frogs in the Amazon. After graduating, I had almost no interest in getting my Master’s – requirement for almost every career in biology – and took a job leading school groups through nature-based activities at a camp in Texas. I like kids and I liked the outdoors, so, sure, it would do.

Well, I loved it. The camp served schools from all over SE Texas and students from all kinds of backgrounds. While I did well with almost every group, I was surprised to find that I did best with middle school kids from rougher neighborhoods. Basically, the ones of the age and background I was most afraid of before I started. When I left the job two years later, I was motivated to continue working similar kids in non-traditional education settings. I had zero desire to work in a classroom setting and was very vocal about it.

However, I couldn’t find an alternative teaching job that wasn’t seasonal and could support me year round. I floundered for several years, until I accepted that I should become a classroom teacher. Long story short, everything I attempted that took me away from getting my certification failed, while everything that brought me closer fell into place almost miraculously.

When I started teaching Middle School Science for St. Louis Public Schools, I was not nearly as prepared as I thought I was. The biggest problem was that I was essentially alone. Yes I had amazing colleagues, but everyone was too busy to readily be available. Additionally, SLPS has a prevailing culture of “this is a tough place; either figure it out or leave.” My school was more collaborative than most, but that attitude was still present. Fortunately, there were countless good days, but it was still immensely stressful. To be honest, if it wasn’t for the uncanny way I’d been led into the job, I don’t think I would have stuck it out. That and knowing that after a few years, I could get help paying my student loans.

The hardest part was feeling constantly overwhelmed by everything that was wrong. Parents who were either too disinterested or too needy. Supervisors who, when I needed help, wouldn’t have a conversation with me but would instead stuff an article in my mailbox. Or send me, the hands-on and messy scientist, to observe a queenly colleague who possessed the ability to command her entire silent science class while never leaving her desk just by the strength of her personality. Things like this made me believe I was wrong. That I wasn’t doing enough. That I wasn’t enough.

I needed to figure it out or leave.

Fortunately, beginning late in my second year, I had a series revelations that really put the job into perspective and laid the groundwork for my current position at AJATC and my motivations in general.

The first is that I started finding ways to enjoy the kids as individuals. I’d gotten into a miserable funk and just wasn’t liking them. Yes, kids can be total turds, but that’s all I was seeing. It was awful. Once I realized where I was at and recognized the problem, it became easier to enjoy them as people. I cannot over emphasize how important this has been. Some kids require a more intentional choice to enjoy – or keep enjoying – but I have never regretted it.

The second was identifying and accepting what I can and cannot do. Like I said, I was overwhelmed and felt powerless. Slowly, I realized that I needed to just be where I was and be who I was. I couldn’t tackle the crime in my students’ neighborhoods, but I could teach a good science lesson. I couldn’t command silence with the strength of my personality, but I could keep them busy. I established routines that reduced my stress, instead of trying to uphold norms suggested by folks who’d never been in my class. I could support the kids as they navigated early adolescence. They didn’t need me to fix their problems. They needed me to be a teacher.

Lastly, I learned to no take the actions and attitudes of my kids – or colleagues – personally. Adolescents ignoring simple requests or losing their temper is par for the course. There are better and worse ways to respond to teenage emotions, and not taking even the most personal attack personally is high among the better. Anger is a secondary emotion; there’s always something else going on. Teens have a lot of something else going on. Like one of my wisest & kindest SLPS colleagues used to say, “If you’re never called a bitch, you’re not doing this right.”

I stayed at SLPS for 10 years because I came to love it. Ultimately, I left because I loved it. Tired and worn down by the never-ending demands, and I did not like the direction my internal dialog was taking. It was time to go.

I expected my education sabbatical to last maybe a year, but some unanticipated shakeups, compounded by the pandemic, had it lasting 4 times as long. My re-entry began slowly when I took a side-gig writing lessons for an online learning company. I was just looking for a little extra money, but getting connected with Cage Free Voices is one of the most fortunate things to ever happen to me. I will relate more about what’s happening at CFV later, but most relevant for now is that my interactions with the founder Bathsheba Smithen were exactly what I needed to grow in confidence and move forward after the emotional toll the previous 15 years had taken on me.

Last September I took a part-time job with Rite of Passage, the company that runs the local DYS-owned facility, teaching GED primarily because it was part-time. I already knew I do alright with messy kids, and when I learned about the small class sizes and additional support staff, I thought, “Well alright, let’s give this a go.”


To be continued...