Saturday, July 27, 2013

VENTING - THE BAND AIDE EFFECT


     I recognize that anger simmers inside of children because they have no way to vent.  Don't get me wrong, VENTING won't solve the problem.  It didn't in my situation but VENTING got my problem out in the open. It was no longer a guarded secret and once exposed, it was marked for destruction.  It was like lifting the top off a boiling pot.  Once the steam escaped, the water was no longer in danger of spilling over.  

     I was band parent on a school bus headed to a game fifty miles away.  The band director wanted this teenager to sit with me.  I could tell that the director thought this kid was hard to handle.  Without fail, the band parent always got one of these kids.  This young man and I sat at the front of the bus and he began to talk.  The noise level on the bus was so high there wasn't any concern about being over heard.

     He first started cussing and he looked at me to see if I was shocked.  I was looking at him.  I wasn't shocked because I sensed that he was about to explode.  He was testing me.  I could have told him that I was shocked proof.  He continued when he saw that I didn't voice disapproval.  He went on to say how he hated his stepfather for beating on him and his brother.  He spit and foamed and declared that if the beatings continued, he was going to kill his stepfather.  At this point, I interjected a bit of sanity into the conversation.  I told him that what ever he did that there would be severe consequences for his actions.  He promptly told me that he knew there would consequences.  I wanted him to realize that talk about injury to others had to be reported.  We talked all the way to the the game.  I focused all my attention on him.  I sensed that he wanted to vent.  So, I listened.  I found that a lot of  problems could be solved simply by listening.  

      On the return trip he boarded the bus ahead of me and yelled that he had saved a seat for me.  Again he talked but this time I notice that the intensity and tone of his conversation was no longer laced with talk of violence.  He started talking about what he wanted to do with his life because he wasn't going to remain in that environment. Weeks later, when I walked into the band hall, the director asked me to step into her office.  There she asked me what had I said to the young man.  She noticed a difference in his personality.  Previously he had been a menace to everyone.  She was shocked when I told her that all I did was let him talk and I listened.  I let him tell me what was bottled up inside.  It was ugly and I realized that there was no pretty way to say what was ripping him apart and he couldn't  express his pain in pretty little phrases because I was an adult.  He wasn't feeling pretty and he sure wasn't feeling respectable.  He was feeling screwed and that aptly describesd how I felt about my situation when I was going through my difficulties as a child. It's true, it really takes one to know one. 

    I was in the grocery store a couple of years later when this young man ran up to me and hugged me.  He was the teenager that had talked to me on that bus.  I acknowledged him and he introduced me to his wife.  He had a beautiful smile on his face.  He informed me that he was headed back to Afghanistan for a second tour of duty.  I can't say, and,  I'm not so conceited  to state that I cured this young man.  But, I will say that I, perhaps, had a band  aide effect in his life and it all started with venting.  You see, the band AIDE doesn't solve the problem but it makes you aware that there is a problem and with care the problem can be cured with time.  It may take a village sometimes, but equally so,  sometimes it takes one person who will take the time to show love and concern, a person who will take the time to actively listen.  Actively listening is expressed in your body language.  It goes beyond paying attention.  I was so proud of this young man.

     Parents love to quote from the Bible 'honor your mother and your father', to their children.  Yet, they fail to note the passage that tell parents not to provoke their children.  When a child is mistreated and is aware of this abuse, (children are not stupid)  and there is no avenue to escape or correct  the abuse,  what you create is a poster child for the dysfunctional, abused and mentally destroyed child.  There has to be a better reason why precious, innocent little babies grow up and join gangs other than for violence mahan and destruction.  My theory, here I'm speaking through my own tunnel vision, is that within  these groups, the safety, the cohesiveness the loyalty loyal and the camaraderie that exist among gang members are because they feel respected, accepted and loved, admittedly, in all the wrong places

     If these emotional triggers  are not targeted in infants and young children the children will act out their frustration.  They become destructive, bullies, they ignore sound advice because they don't trust anyone in authority.  They learn that from infancy.  They join gangs and throw tantrums of violence that has society shaking in it's underpants.  Society responds by building gated communities, buildimg more detention centers and prisons and still the problems escalates. After a while the entire society will be locked away behind gates and bars and the only question left to answer is 'who the hell got the key'.  The problem may be as simple as 'eating an elephant one bite at a time', targeting one  child at a time.  No, again let me state, I don't know how to solve all the problems, but if I can cause life to change for the better then I'll smile.

     A mayor told this at a going away dinner, (the children started school and the teacher asked each child their name.  This little.boy told the teacher that his name was damnit.   The other children assured the teacher that the student was indeed named damnit.  All that year the teacher yelled damnit stop, damnit come here, damnit sit down.  One day they had a spelling bee and the children were lined up around the wall.  The superintendent was a guess for spelling bee.  All was well until the teacher calles a particular big word and the smartest student couldn't spell the word.  Damnit started waving his hand screaming that he knew the word.  The teacher ignored damnit but damnit wouldn't stop.  Finally the teacher yelled, "Damnit, you can't spell that word".  The superintendent yelled to the teacher "Hell, let him try".)   We should let all the little damnit of the world have a voice.









No comments:

Post a Comment