A long time ago, in my life before kids, I worked with teenagers. Some of these teenagers were from really tough backgrounds, the kind of backgrounds that gives kids a label of "at risk".
At risk of being counted in all kinds of negative statistics like teen pregnancy, drug and alcohol abuse, crime, lack of education, unemployment and most of all, at risk of living the kind of life and having the kind of families that passed on this risk to the next generation.
All kinds of teenagers came across my path and I did my best to help them at the time, even though most of the time I felt like I was out of my depth, clueless, under-equipped and flying by the seat of my pants.
At the time there were certain kids who stood out, who broke my heart more than most. My love and concern for these kids kept me up at night, quite often; there were prayers and tears and sleepless nights. There were phone calls in the middle of the night ("can you come?"); there were conversations, pep talks and feeds. I didn't know if any of it was doing any good. I didn't know if they would manage to break all those negative cycles and live healthy, happy lives, with healthy, happy families. That was what I wanted and hoped for them but I had no clue if it would happen.
That was more than 20 years ago. We lost touch over the years, but recently a few of those special ones that kept me up at night have crossed my path again, and it has blown me away to see how amazingly well they are doing. They've beaten the statistics.
I shared this story with my counselor the other week, encouraged that in the past my life seemed to have made a difference to some people, just by believing in them.
"Yes, and maybe there is also a message here for you about your parenting too," my counselor said. "Don't you often tell me that as a parent you feel out of your depth, clueless, under-equipped and don't know what you're doing?"
Um, yep.
So, so often. I have three teenagers after all.
All the worries. All the self-doubt.
All the sleepless nights worrying: "Why do they fight so much? Why aren't they kind to each other? Haven't they learnt anything from me at all? Is it too late for that to change? Will he repeat that negative cycle? Why do they have to swear so much?" and so on and so forth and what have you.
My counsellor says I should take encouragement from Vili, Eli and Kerri.
Just keep on believing in them, sticking by them no matter what. That's all.
I get to see my kids at their worst. They put on their shiny faces and best manners for the world but at home, where it's safe, they let it all hang out.
Grumpiness, crabbiness, emotional outbursts, laziness, messiness...
Sometimes it's hard to see the good under all that hormonal irritability - but it's there.
The Toolbox parenting course talks about turning on our "parent vision", which means deliberately looking past the negative aspects of our kids and focusing on the good. To see the gold hidden beneath the surface, speak it, draw it out, keep believing it's still there.
That can be tough when our child(ren) are showing us mainly their worst.
Sometimes I stare hard at my kids, trying to see hints of the lil cuties they used to be.
I strain to see my offspring with "parent vision". I work on recognising the moments of kindness, though they are sporadic. I try to appreciate and acknowledge the helpfulness when it shows up occasionally. I train myself to respect the values and opinions they articulate so clearly even if I don't always agree. I admire the courage it takes to face a complicated world, and stand amazed that they are beating the odds and succeeding at school in spite of their challenges. I acknowledge the good that I see. I speak it out loud, and say, "thank you, I so appreciate that" when someone empties the dishwasher or takes the dog for a walk.
I tell them, I believe in you, with and without words.
I tell myself, this will all be worth it.
And now I have proof. Vili, Eli and Kerri, twenty years on, winning at life.
At a recent reunion I got to meet the wife of one of "my boys" (we'll call him Vili, his wife, Lena).
Lena came laden with gifts for me.
"I've heard all about you from Vili," she told me. "I wanted to let you know how important you are to him, and to me for everything you did for him." (What did I do? I only believed in him.)
"I've heard all about you from Vili," she told me. "I wanted to let you know how important you are to him, and to me for everything you did for him." (What did I do? I only believed in him.)
Apparently, Vili is an amazing husband and father; all Lena's friends tell her how lucky she is. They live and work on the Gold Coast; it's a good life. When I met him, Vili was a hard case kid with a great sense of humour but who had a reputation he was trying to escape. Which he did.
"You've been such a big part of my journey...means a lot to me..." Vili said later.
We talked about old times, remembering some crazy events and I told him how I used to pray for him. There was lots of hugging and warm fuzzies.
"You've been such a big part of my journey...means a lot to me..." Vili said later.
We talked about old times, remembering some crazy events and I told him how I used to pray for him. There was lots of hugging and warm fuzzies.
I also reconnected with Eli. Eli always had the biggest heart. When I met him he was only 14 but there was something special about him. When we met up recently, he told me he is doing a social work course so he can use his carving skills to help young boys who are in trouble like he used to be. He's dad to five boys, and still has the hugest heart.
Then there's Kerri. She was one of the girls I originally started CLS for who'd had a childhood she described as "Once Were Warriors".
I was desperate to help her but never did know if what I did helped much in the long run. Until about a month ago, when she got in touch on Facebook. Her aunty came across the story I wrote about CLS on my blog and shared it with her. Aunty later told me, "Her and Ben are such dedicated parents!" She met her partner at CLS and they are still together. He's a manager at a construction company, she's in security and they have raised two lovely kids (who are doing great at their education) in a stable, loving home.
"Thank you for never giving up on me, Simone," Kerri messaged me.
I might have actually shed tears right then.
It was uncanny how one after the other these precious ones were coming across my path, as if Someone wanted to let me know that in the end, it was all worth it.
All the tears and prayers, the pep talks, the feeds, the sleepless nights.
Even though I felt like I was out of my depth, clueless, under-equipped and flying by the seat of my pants and didn't know what I was doing - the fact that I believed in them, loved them, prayed and cried over them and stuck in there with them actually made a difference.
That's what they told me, and it warmed my heart and gave me hope.
I might have actually shed tears right then.
It was uncanny how one after the other these precious ones were coming across my path, as if Someone wanted to let me know that in the end, it was all worth it.
All the tears and prayers, the pep talks, the feeds, the sleepless nights.
Even though I felt like I was out of my depth, clueless, under-equipped and flying by the seat of my pants and didn't know what I was doing - the fact that I believed in them, loved them, prayed and cried over them and stuck in there with them actually made a difference.
That's what they told me, and it warmed my heart and gave me hope.
I shared this story with my counselor the other week, encouraged that in the past my life seemed to have made a difference to some people, just by believing in them.
"Yes, and maybe there is also a message here for you about your parenting too," my counselor said. "Don't you often tell me that as a parent you feel out of your depth, clueless, under-equipped and don't know what you're doing?"
Um, yep.
So, so often. I have three teenagers after all.
All the worries. All the self-doubt.
All the sleepless nights worrying: "Why do they fight so much? Why aren't they kind to each other? Haven't they learnt anything from me at all? Is it too late for that to change? Will he repeat that negative cycle? Why do they have to swear so much?" and so on and so forth and what have you.
My counsellor says I should take encouragement from Vili, Eli and Kerri.
Just keep on believing in them, sticking by them no matter what. That's all.
I get to see my kids at their worst. They put on their shiny faces and best manners for the world but at home, where it's safe, they let it all hang out.
Grumpiness, crabbiness, emotional outbursts, laziness, messiness...
Sometimes it's hard to see the good under all that hormonal irritability - but it's there.
The Toolbox parenting course talks about turning on our "parent vision", which means deliberately looking past the negative aspects of our kids and focusing on the good. To see the gold hidden beneath the surface, speak it, draw it out, keep believing it's still there.
That can be tough when our child(ren) are showing us mainly their worst.
Sometimes I stare hard at my kids, trying to see hints of the lil cuties they used to be.
I strain to see my offspring with "parent vision". I work on recognising the moments of kindness, though they are sporadic. I try to appreciate and acknowledge the helpfulness when it shows up occasionally. I train myself to respect the values and opinions they articulate so clearly even if I don't always agree. I admire the courage it takes to face a complicated world, and stand amazed that they are beating the odds and succeeding at school in spite of their challenges. I acknowledge the good that I see. I speak it out loud, and say, "thank you, I so appreciate that" when someone empties the dishwasher or takes the dog for a walk.
I tell them, I believe in you, with and without words.
I tell myself, this will all be worth it.
And now I have proof. Vili, Eli and Kerri, twenty years on, winning at life.
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