I recently ran into a group of new teachers at lunch. We had a brief conversation about where we work. When they heard where I teach, an inpatient psychiatric hospital, one of the teachers said, “Good for you. I couldn’t work with THOSE kids.” I said, “You do realize when THOSE kids leave my facility they will become YOUR kids.” She said, “Oh, I didn’t know that.” I wasn’t angry at all about this encounter, but instead felt almost sad. You see, THOSE kids are MY kids and I think MY kids are amazing. I also know that with the right support, positive adult connections, and opportunities THOSE kids can be extremely successful. So now my mission, my passion, is to help others understand that THOSE kids have to be OUR kids!

I wrote this last year at the end of the school year. I wanted to share again as I know so many teacher and students are heading back to school for another year. It’s just something to think about as ALL kids, including THOSE kids, start their journey with us….

I have been thinking a lot about tough kids and mental illness and trauma and perceptions and solutions and just a whole bunch of things as I reflect on my past year of teaching. I was talking to a someone I hadn’t seen in a while and she asked what I was doing for work. I told her I was teaching at a PRTF with kids receiving inpatient psychiatric treatment. She immediately said that must be so hard. Those are tough kids. I couldn’t work with those kids.
She didn’t mean any harm by her reaction, but I got stuck on her words. Who are “those kids”? I know what she thinks of when she and many others picture my students. She thinks troublemakers and delinquency and poor behaviors and disruptive and hateful and crazy and difficult. She thinks about what she sees in the media – stories of bullies and mental illness and criminals and the most negative parts of society. I wish I could say she is wrong, but she’s not entirely wrong. Many of my students do have criminal records and have been incarcerated at some point. Many have exhibited very disruptive behaviors and many right in my classroom. I have learned more curse words and new ways to put those words together in just one year than my other years of life combined. I encounter non-compliance and arguing and aggression on most days.
I replied to her comment by saying that I really liked it and while it can be crazy some days I really enjoy the kids. What I wish I would have said was look again – take another look at “those kids.” I would tell her those kids are more than the outside behaviors and attitudes you see. I would tell her their behaviors are not who they are  but a result of where they have been. I would tell her those kids live in a constant state of fight or flight. I would tell her they would behave if they could – it most often is not a choice but the only way they know. Good behaviors are taught. They can’t do better until they know better.  It is hard to be patient when you’ve been screamed at your whole life, it is hard to share when you fought for every scrap of food, it is hard to be compassionate when you were never hugged, and it is hard to trust when the very people who were supposed to love you are the ones that are hurting you.
I would tell her to look again. She would see “those kids” are survivors. Those kids have been abused, neglected, starved, abandoned, raped, beat, addicted, prostituted, and shamed. And it spite of that, they are living. Many of them are healing and learning and coping and growing and some of them are even thriving. It’s a process and it isn’t without setbacks, but they are surviving. They are learning academic skills, social skills, and coping skills. They have goals and hopes and dreams just like every other child. They are so much more than what you see the first time you look.
I would tell her if she looked again she would be amazed. Those kids are funny. They would crack her up with their quick wit and sense of humor. Those kids are creative. The art, poetry, and writings they create could be displayed. Those kids are smart. They learn and accomplish new things each day. Those kids are compassionate. They learn to care and to connect to people, some of them for the first time in their lives. Those kids are loving. They give high fives and compliments and hugs to those that care for them. Those kids are just kids. They enjoy the same things her kids do – movies, games, sports, art, electronics, hanging out, friends, and family.
I would tell her it’s okay to take in what she sees the first time she looks, but before she makes final judgment I would ask her to please look again. She might see the kid who misbehaves during her child’s assembly, but if she looked again she might see a boy who is jumping up and down trying to see if his mother ever made it to the program. She might see the kid who steals, but if she looked again she might see a girl who was gathering food to eat at home. She might see a girl addicted to drugs, but if she looked again she might see a girl who was self-medicating to cope with the abuse at home. She might hear a boy being rude and disrespectful, but if she looked again she might see a boy hiding the fact that he can’t read and is confused most of the day.
I would tell her I don’t want anyone to make excuses or give special treatment, but I am just asking her to look at “those kids”. Really look at them. Don’t look through them or turn and walk away. Stop and have a conversation. Talk to them. Interact with them. Don’t assume that they don’t want to do better. Don’t be scared of them. Don’t assume that they are bad kids or don’t have a lot to offer this world. Give them a chance – maybe even a second and a third. They’ve made mistakes but recognize the effort. Recognize that healing is a process. See that progress usually happens in steps – sometimes very small steps. Don’t just see the behaviors and mistakes and mental illness and the trauma. See the progress and the potential and the goals and the dreams. See that each of “those kids” just wants a chance to be a kid. THOSE kids can become OUR kids.