A few days ago, I was assigned to work with a young sixth grader whose family comes from El Salvador. Most of the time, this boy is quite a pill and really hard to handle or get to know. But, every once in a while he'll do something or say something with a giant, flashy smile and you just want to jump up and give him the biggest hug! (But you DON'T, because you realize he will never talk to you again if you do it.) Usually Angelo, my co worker, is assigned to work with the bratty sixth grade boys while I get to work with the angelic seventh grade girls. However, on this particular day, none of my angels had any homework, and of course, all of the sixth grade boys did. So, this young man was assigned to my table for homework help. He sat down and I asked him what he had for homework today. He told me he had to write an essay that his teacher assigned him titled, "Why I Want to be a Better Person." (Whether or not this was a punishment assignment, I still do not know.)
Regardless, we start collaborating on this essay. And by collaborating, I mean that he would write a sentence and then look at me and say, "Right, miss?" I got sick of this method and told him I wasn't going to do his homework for him, but we could discuss what he was going to write about (make an outline...thank you forth grade teachers...) and then he would write it and I would edit it. He started telling me his three main points as to why he thinks it's important for him to become a better person. His second point stunned me. He wrote down that he needs to be a better person so that he can help other people be better too. I thought that this point was one, actually relevant to his topic unlike his other ideas, and two, profound. It's hard to find a middle school student these days who actually care about anyone other than themselves. But, the part that made me stop and turn my eyes to God thanking him for upbringing was that his reason for needing to help others be better is so they don't start doing the "bad things" that he does at such an early age. I, of course, asked him to elaborate and he said, well, it's not good for people to start drinking and smoking when I did. And I said, "Yes, that is very true, how old were you when you starting drinking and smoking?" He gave me his sheepish, mischievous grin and looked at the floor and mumbled "nine."
NINE. NINE? How did I not expect this? I knew this kind of abuse was prevalent in poorer communities and that kids these days had started substance abuse earlier and earlier, but NINE? I was trying to think of what I was doing at the age of nine. I was in 3rd grade. I was still playing with dolls and building forts. I didn't even know what drinking was. My mother had to explain what being drunk meant by using an episode of Full House. How does this happen?? I was so shocked, I didn't even know how to respond. I asked him if he still does those things and he says, "I try not to." I thought that was actually a pretty mature answer for him and we talked a little bit more about what those substances do to your body and what will happen in the future if he keeps using them. But the cancer tactic and the eventual break down of health doesn't always work on middle schoolers. Although the 'not being able to play soccer and football well' worked a little better. It's hard. Life is hard. This world is complicated and complex.
1 comment:
I had a young patient - 22 years old - die of alcoholic cirrhosis. That was the shock of my career...22 and dying from cirrhosis??? This stuff gets your attention, doesn't it?
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