This morning I was thinking about my hoodlum boys-that is the budding juvenile delinquents I've had the chance to work with during this past year. I use the "Yakety Yak" reference to "hoodlum friends" because it reminds me of my dad. For he was, in some respects a hoodlum. However, it's not quite a fair label for my students but it some cases it surely fits. I mean who thinks it makes sense to shoplift while renting ski gear and then explain to me how he needs to commit a more serious crime, "like murder or something" so he can be sent to a specific prison to avenge the gang death of his cousin? Or thinks that ganging up on a peer and attacking him in his sleep leaving him with a broken nose is fair game? Well, sometimes my students did.
Working with this population of teen boys rounds out my experience in working with at risk youth from ages 7-18-both male and female. When taking on a new job, I was required to straddle 2 programs and provide RT services for both. The one dealt with more behavioral issues of students in residential treatment, the other serviced a less acute population requiring only day treatment. With changing work landscape continually, it has certainly been a ride-at times a very rough ride. For you see, these older wizened boys did not have the same response to me presence as say a hyperactive, young, fairly innocent child.
I remember walking with my mentor as she was showing me the ropes regarding all things RT when working pediatrics. All the children called out her name as if she was a rock star. It caused quite a disruption in the school area. Over time, it became my name they enthusiastically called out and I quickly learned why. RT was their ticket to some semblance of freedom-of normalcy- of getting out of their locked down facility to do something they considered "fun." We held the keys. I remember one of my interns pointing out that my red plastic clipboard was actually a trigger for the kids. They got all riled up wondering if they were on the off-grounds list. Those were the days.
Not so with my hoodlums. They had much more freedom since they went off-grounds all the time with various staff members. Rather than viewing me as a person they saw me as an obstacle or even as a vehicle- or someone they had to put up with for a brief period of time. I had to develop a thick skin quick to deal with their comments. I remember one day bringing a humanitarian service project to work on and a student rolling his eyes, refusing to participate and saying, Erin- "Why would you think we would EVER want to do ANYTHING like this?" The only time he was even half way respectful to me was when he thought I might be able to open up the music studio for him. Other than that- it was pure contempt.
I continued to fight the good fight and not take things too personal while coming up with interventions to increase engagement. Some groups were decent, others not so much, but I kept trying and found joy in serving this challenging population. There was joy when witnessing the boy with size 19 shoe and another boy with a prosthetic leg have a successful snow experience while riding snow bikes after many failed attempts with previous snowboarding and skiing equipment. There was joy when "jamming" together with the piano, guitar, drums and making original music together. There was joy when putting my arm around a youth and sincerely wishing him future success and expressing confidence in his abilities even after knowing of his horrific past deeds. I was legitimately sad when learning I would need to leave them and focus on the day program students.
On my last day working with them, I walked into their classroom to prepare for a fishing activity. I was greeted with a loud chorus of "Erin!" It brought back memories from those early rock star days and made me chuckle. I was also touched when earlier one of the boys helped me clean up after a messy painting activity and expressed concern about my skin cancer and personal life. Some students, some of the time, treated me as a real person. And I saw them as people as well, not just as juvenile delinquents. It was great reminder of the truth I've learned over and over, "We are all people with problems." It was my privilege to have the experience working with these fine young men or "hoodlums." Yakety Yak...Don't Talk Back!
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