{"id":5266,"date":"2016-01-18T04:22:18","date_gmt":"2016-01-18T10:22:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/?p=5266"},"modified":"2016-01-25T07:12:46","modified_gmt":"2016-01-25T13:12:46","slug":"hope-for-the-angry-child","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/2016\/01\/18\/hope-for-the-angry-child\/","title":{"rendered":"Hope for the Angry Child"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"heart<\/a><\/p>\n

“If I can stop one heart from breaking,
\nI shall not live in vain;
\nIf I can ease one life the aching,
\nOr cool one pain,
\nOr help one fainting robin
\nUnto his nest again,
\nI shall not live in vain.”
\n<\/em>-Emily Dickinson<\/em><\/p>\n

I haven\u2019t spoken of this experience for over fifteen years; I have definitely never written about it. Yet, when the memories of this time came rushing back, I had to pull off the highway and find a gas station where I could scribble my notes. It\u2019s taken four weeks to transform my notes into readable form, but I have no doubt the timing of this message is perfect for someone reading today. This is my story \u2026 and Vince\u2019s* story \u2026<\/p>\n

*Name has been changed<\/i><\/p>\n

I had just one year of teaching under my belt and was taking classes towards my master\u2019s degree in special education. Though barely qualified to teach students with challenging behavior disorders, I quickly assessed that academic training wasn't going to make me a successful teacher–it had more to do with the connections I made with my students.<\/p>\n

The way this particular school set up its special education program for behaviorally challenged students allowed me to form lasting bonds with my students. Rather than having a self-contained classroom, I had one-on-one time with each of my sixteen students throughout the school day. By providing direct support to the children and their teachers, the school district believed these exceptional students could be successfully mainstreamed into a tradition classroom. Furthermore, it was not unusual for me to work with a particular student for multiple years.<\/p>\n

Such was the case with Vince*. Vince had compliance and anger issues but we had made significant strides in our first year together. Vince was an adorable child who looked forward to our one-on-one lessons and my frequent check-ins to his regular classroom.<\/p>\n

On this particular evening, a typical event for a new school year was taking place. It was \u201cMeet the Teacher\u201d night. All the teachers were lined up, preparing to walk across the stage as we were introduced. As we waited for the principal to take the podium, I noticed Vince\u2019s mother making her way through the crowded gymnasium. She was coming straight toward me in breathless haste.<\/p>\n

When she spoke, I thought I did not hear her correctly \u2013 there was no way I could have heard her right. As the blood drained from my face, I leaned closer praying I had misheard. Vince\u2019s mother repeated the words that seemed incomprehensible, unbearable, and repulsive to my ears.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Vince killed his kitten that afternoon.<\/p>\n

As his mother rambled on, I heard nothing. I forced myself to stay composed although all I wanted to do was fall to my knees and sob.<\/p>\n

Somehow \u2013 I don\u2019t remember how \u2013 I made my way across the stage when my name was called. I struggled to hold my sweaty, shaking hands together thinking only of the tiny kitten, praying it did not suffer.<\/p>\n

You see, before I became a mother, my pets were my babies. In fact, I loved all animals from a young age and would do anything to save one even if it meant putting myself in harm\u2019s way.<\/p>\n

I was the child who was known to stand my ground at the trunk of a tree until the dog went home and the terrified cat could get down safely. I was the teenager who was reprimanded by my driver\u2019s ed instructor for swerving to avoid a dog. In front of my peers, the teacher yelled, \u201cNext time, there is no choice! You must hit the animal to save yourself!\u201d<\/p>\n

But despite his scary and humiliating rant, I did not cower. I looked him right in the eye and told him I would always save an animal if I could.<\/p>\n

Now here I was seven years later wondering what to do with this\u2014the intentional harm of a helpless animal by a child that I cared for deeply. As distressing as it was to think about the kitten, I had taken enough psychology courses to know this was a deeply troubling sign for Vince.<\/p>\n

That night, I did not sleep. I cried for the kitten. I cried for the boy whose heart did not enable him to love and care for an animal. I cried for myself because I still had a school year ahead of me to teach this child. How could I get past this?<\/p>\n

The next morning I walked into school with swollen eyes and a conflicted heart. An older and more experienced staff member who had heard what happened stopped me and asked, \u201cWhat are you going to do? There\u2019s not much hope for that one now is there?\u201d<\/p>\n

Those standing around regrettably surmised where this boy would be in about fifteen years; the outlook was not good.<\/p>\n

I kept my fears and uncertainties to myself and made my way to my small classroom. Vince was my first student. He always needed my boost of encouragement to start his day. I typically went to his classroom and escorted him to mine.\u00a0 Normally, I would be all smiles, offering him my hand and pepping him up for a day of positive choices and hard work. But on that day, my feet were as heavy as my heart. I felt like I was on the verge of throwing up.<\/p>\n

I walked to Vince\u2019s classroom door. There he stood waiting for me. Immediately I noticed something was different. He was unusually reserved\u2014almost shy. He did not say a word as we walked down the hall to my classroom and took our usual spots at the round table.\u00a0Normally, there would be a lesson waiting there, or dolls to use in role play, or a behavior skills game to play. But not today. Today the table was empty.<\/p>\n

\u201cI killed my cat,\u201d Vince unexpectedly blurted out, bursting the heavy silence that filled the room. He then looked down sheepishly.<\/p>\n

My mouth went dry. Barely moving my lips, I whispered my response. \u201cI know. Your mother told me.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at me with anxious eyes as if waiting for more\u2014as if waiting to hear what his beloved teacher thought and felt about his actions.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy heart is broken by what you did,\u201d I said my voice quivering.<\/p>\n

Vince looked ashamed. His cheeks flushed a vivid red hue. He looked as if he was preparing for the worst \u2013 as if I might tell him that I could no longer work with him.<\/p>\n

But then I said something I wasn\u2019t expecting to come out of my mouth.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I still believe in you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Vince\u2019s head snapped up in disbelief. \u201cBut you love cats!\u201d the small boy emphatically cried out pointing to the picture of my fat Calico cat prominently displayed on my desk (which coincidentally sat next to my \u201c365 Days of Cats\u201d calendar).<\/p>\n

And then because I needed to hear them again just as much as he did, I repeated the same words\u2014this time with more conviction.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I still believe in you.\u201d<\/p>\n

And suddenly the anger, fear, and uncertainty that darkened his pupils subsided. What remained was a glimmer of something unfamiliar, yet warm and promising. Vince was merely a child, but he wisely understood that what I had just offered him was a piece of my heart.<\/p>\n

Vince reacted just as one could only hope when trusted with such a precious gift. He solemnly vowed, \u201cI promise, Miss Macy. I won\u2019t do it again.\u201d<\/p>\n

Although I wanted to ask why he did it \u2013 among a hundred other questions \u2013 I knew that was territory I must not tread. Thankfully, Vince would be receiving help from someone skilled in this area so I vowed to do what I did best \u2013 \u00a0connect, encourage, believe, and see the good in this child. I prayed that Vince could feel small measures of success each day and eventually defy the odds.<\/p>\n

Vince and I worked together for four years until he attended a new school. Despite my eventual move out-of-state, we kept in touch for about five years. Periodically, I would receive a letter from Vince or his mother. The common theme of each letter was that he wanted to come visit me someday. Vince and his family experienced their share of challenges and set backs, but they always had hope.<\/p>\n

Ten years later \u2013 when the naysayers had speculated the worse would unfold \u00a0\u2013 Vince found me through the magic of social media. He informed me that he had earned his high school diploma and was taking college courses. He was writing a book and was was doing great things with a community youth group.<\/p>\n

Vince had defied the odds.<\/p>\n

And to me he said this: \u201cThank you for being the teacher who believed in me. School was never the same after you, but you stayed in my heart and always will.\u201d<\/p>\n

The day Vince admitted his tragic wrongdoing will be engrained in my mind forever. It would have been easy to go where so many went that day \u2013 believing there was no hope. I very well could have written Vince off forever because of his grave mistake.<\/p>\n

Instead, I offered these six words: \u201cBut I still believe in you.\u201d<\/p>\n

For years I have wondered why those <\/i>words. At what point did I decide I would not give up on him?\u00a0It was the morning I walked into school and the staff member asked what I was going to do. In that moment, I saw a back turn on Vince. I knew it would be the first of many that would turn their backs on this child. There would be many who would give up and walk away.<\/p>\n

Although I couldn\u2019t forgive him for taking that kitten\u2019s life, it didn\u2019t mean his life should be thrown away too.<\/p>\n

I once stood under a tree protecting a living being until danger was gone \u2026
\nI once swerved my car to avoid taking a life \u2026
\nWhy would I do anything different now?<\/p>\n

Vince\u2019s life was worth saving.<\/p>\n

I would not turn my back on him.<\/p>\n

Friends, I am simply the messenger on this \u201cHands Free\u201d journey, and it is by the grace of God and a remarkable young man that I have this message to give:<\/p>\n

Our children will make mistakes.<\/p>\n

These mistakes will likely grow in severity as they get older.<\/p>\n

But a mistake doesn\u2019t warrant abandonment, condemnation, or disownment.<\/p>\n

Be the one who doesn\u2019t turn and walk away.<\/p>\n

Be the one that stays and says, \u201cI don\u2019t condone what you did, but I still believe in you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then foster the goodness that resides deep within that troubled heart \u2013 even if you have to dig to find it. Believe it is there \u2013 even if you are the only one who does.<\/p>\n

Because one day that child will grow into a young adult who has choices that can either harm or contribute to society. And when that time comes, there you will be \u2013 a flutter in his heart, reminding him he was once worthy of saving and still is.<\/p>\n

********************************************************************<\/p>\n

Update 1\/18\/2016 – Friends of The Hands Free Revolution<\/a>, I wrote this post exactly 3 years ago and felt that today, Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday, was the ideal day to share it again. Last year I had the opportunity to speak in the town where this story took place. The boy from the story, who is now a handsome young man, sat in the front row beaming with pride at his beloved teacher. He listened intently to my words and afterwards thanked me for believing in him, although he has told me many times. I listened with joy as he described the many ways he was continuing to enrich himself, as well as the world. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

In that moment I thought of the many children and teens who are currently alienated, lost, lonely, and sad \u2013 those with prolonged feelings of despair that eventually lead to troubled paths and life-altering choices. My hope is that we, as a society, do a better job of noticing these children \u2013 whether they are in our homes, our communities, on our sport teams, or skateboarding in front of our favorite coffee shop. May we begin to see all children as \u201cour children.\u201d \u00a0Perhaps this heightened awareness will inspire an outpouring of support of encouragement that leads to more open\u00a0hands and\u00a0changed futures.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/em><\/strong>The first question which the priest and the Levite asked was: \u2018If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?\u2019 But … the good Samaritan reversed the question: “If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?” -Martin Luther King Jr.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/i><\/b>*For further help\/information:<\/p>\n

\u201cViolent Rage Doesn\u2019t Begin at Age 20<\/a>\u201d is an excellent article by Dr. Laura Markham that addresses what adults can do about anger they are witnessing in their child or teen:<\/p>\n

DoSomething.org <\/a>offers a list of hotline numbers related to a variety of serious issues faced by children and young people:<\/p>\n

The National Alliance on Mental Illness <\/a>provides contact information for every state.<\/p>\n

**If you feel this is a message worth spreading, I\u2019d be grateful if you share it. Through you, my friends of The Hands Free Revolution<\/a>, the hand of hope can reach far and wide.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

“If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain.” -Emily Dickinson I haven\u2019t spoken of this experience for over fifteen years; I have […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":5276,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[25],"tags":[942,856,940,943,941,939,944],"gutentor_comment":90,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/01\/DSC_00691-e1446767814906.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1fUJF-1mW","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5266"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5266"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5266\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5276"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5266"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5266"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5266"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}