ReMoved

I work with hard kids. Tough kids. Difficult kids.

Most people, when I talk about my job and my school, go one of two ways. It’s either along the lines of, “Oh, you work at the school for (choose your preferred adjective) delinquents/ messed-up kids/trouble makers/little %#@$! Why would you do that?”
Or “Wow, you’re so amazing to do that. I could never do that job. It must be so rewarding.”

Reality is the kids can live up to those adjectives, and more. Many, many more.
And I’ll be honest, on a hard day I’ve been known to use a few adjectives myself when describing my day. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’ve used those same adjectives to describe the kids on occasion.
I’ve been kicked, hit, bitten, spat on, scratched. Had chairs, tables, shoes and other things thrown at me. I’ve been called every name under the sun, and some that even the sun has never heard.
And some days, no – many days, are less than rewarding.
More often than not, I wonder why on earth I do this to myself, to my family.

And then I’m reminded.

 

Ours are not unseen, unheard, unwanted kids.
But their behaviour is a product of their experience, defined by their past.

Working with these kids, has taught me so much about love and happiness and resilience. And grace.
They have experienced things that I can read on paper and hear them talk about, like it’s just…..life. Normal.
But they are things that I’ve never experienced and can’t begin to imagine.
They are the things that make up their memories, the frame that they hang life in.
And yet every day they rise above their past and they get through a day. And they do it, with joy, most days.
There are days that I’ve laughed with the kids until I’ve cried. I’ve done ‘The Amazing Dance’ more times than I can count. (ask me if you want to see it one day – guaranteed to make you smile, but you’ve got to do something amazing first!) I’ve shared that ‘ah-ha’ moment when understanding suddenly just clicks, and the look of pure joy on a little face lights up your heart.

And that’s why I do this job.
Not because of the rewards. But because I can.
Not because I enjoy being hit or spat on or sworn at. But because they are worth it.
Not because I’m amazing. But because they are.

Because they don’t have to be a product of their past.
Because they are loved.