The Complexion of Connection

Today I'm feeling calm and passionate because I just spent two days at our state counseling conference. My learning session on Mindfulness was scheduled from 4:30 to 6 pm yesterday and I wasn't sure anyone would feel like staying that late when they could be enjoying an early dinner on the water in Galveston, but the room was filled with so many lifelong learners, school counselors eager to grow with me. Two of them were my former students, which makes my heart happy. I shared this image from my #JoyfulLeaders friend Bethany Hill as we talked about and then traded out our resentments for our appreciations.

This morning's keynote by Dr. Omekongo Dibinga of UPstander International set us on fire to be that one person who changes the trajectory of the lives of the marginalized students, 

the lost, 

the lonely, 

the listless, 

those who don't come to us with the complexion of connection. 

He told us that schools ought not be places with policies like check your feelings at the door. He reminded us that every day we get to choose what happens inside of us regardless of what happens around us. And he recommended that we let go of our resentments as we appreciate and grow through our experiences. 

Then he encouraged us to care for ourselves because people are counting on us, and we can't serve from an empty vessel. So tomorrow I return to my school family, ready to keep on carrying the baton that prioritizes social and emotional learning for all students. It's always refreshing to be away for a bit, for perspective, for rest and restoration. 

I'm also feeling thankful to be able to share this poignant reflection from a cyberspace colleague across the country. As soon as I read it, I knew I had to ask Amanda if she would share it with my readers. And to my delight, she said yes! Here now, a peek into what caregivers get to do every day as we hold the hearts and invisible backpacks of our most precious treasure, our children.

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Holding Backpacks by Amanda C. Symmes, LICSW

Today, I have chosen to stay in bed
My throat burning with new illness
My head heavy with pressure
This morning, I almost walked out the door anyway--

(Theassemblyandthatmeetingandthosekids
IpromisedIwouldmakeuptimewithandthat
GirlthatIwanttocheckinonagainandandand)

But I listened to a faint inner voice that said:
“Be Gentle With Yourself”
Words that I so frequently gift to others,
And decided today would be a day that I would
Accept this for myself.

We must take care of ourselves.

And yet, in addition to a virus growing within me,
There is additional suffering multiplying
Exponentially outside of me.
In my professional world, always;
A microcosm of the greater world around us.

As such, at the end of some weeks,
It feels simply too heavy to carry.
As a School Adjustment Counselor
For close to six hundred kids in an urban school,
I am tasked with truly holding the weight of the world
For as many of these children as I possibly can…

And yet, it is truly the best job I have ever had.
Each day is a brand new opportunity to
Work like hell to MAYBE make it
So that children feel just a bit lighter each day.

And yet, it’s never that simple.

But I try anyway.

Each day, I get to talk to and listen to these
Complicated kids armed with defense mechanisms
Like steel walls, yet who are still young and unscathed

Enough

To search me from head to toe,
For a nugget of support and acceptance.

And so I give just that.
I sit with them, while we knead kinetic sand
And squeeze stress balls, and listen to music
And take deep breaths and let
Vulnerability and compassion
Fill the room with a sense of safety that is essential.

And on certain occasions, with certain kids,
I tell them that one of my abilities
Is that I can see *both* of their backpacks.

I can see the one that holds
Their books and papers,
The ones that most
People know about and can see.

And they listen to me ramble on, often confused,
but always intrigued.

I go on to tell them that I can see the invisible one
That they carry too.

The one that is filled with invisible but very
HEAVY stones.

In my mind I name their stones:

“A loved one overdosed”
“Someone went to jail”
“Your parents are getting divorced
and you are happy because the fighting
will stop but so sad because a lot of things
are going to change”
“You have had a lot of homes and feel unwanted”
“No one talks to each other at your house”
“Alcohol, suicide, self harm, guilt, regret,
self-blame, self loathing, anxiety, pressure,
depression, stress, neglect,
chronic illness, learning disabilities, bullying,
sleeplessness, lack of connection,
shame, shame, shame….and more”

But to them, I simply say:

“You have a lot of things that are hard for you
in your life. Each of those heavy
stones represents those things.

*And I can see them*

We don’t have to talk about them if you don’t want,
but I do see them.
And I see you struggling to
carry them sometimes. And you are so strong.
Way stronger than you should have to be.
At school, we only need you to carry your regular backpack.
If you want, that invisible one can stay in here with me.”

For these kids, putting on the disguise of
“good student” “kind friend” or “happy kid”
is like trying to put on a strange costume
That is two sizes too small, on top of
An unwanted backpack that is already too heavy.

We can’t wear normal when normal isn’t
Wearing us.

So I tell them plain and simple:

“It is OKAY to not be okay sometimes”.

And I always pair it with:

“But it’s also okay to give yourself permission
to come to school and just be a kid and not
think about anything else.
And allow yourself to feel happy if you want.”

*Because sometimes they need permission*

And usually at first, I smile for them.
But eventually after we’ve connected,
We often smile together.
And smiling with children, that fills me up.

*I will hold your invisible backpack*

Recently, a student asked me
Why the character “Sadness”
From the movie ‘Inside Out’ was my favorite.

(I had forgotten I told him this,
And was a bit surprised that he remembered)

I told him that I believed that
Sadness is an important feeling and
I think a lot of people want sadness to just go away,
But it is a part of life and something we all feel sometimes,
And, I told him, it can be helpful too.

He said “But you’re always happy”

I paused and stayed quiet for a moment,
Thinking of all the things I could
Tell him so that he knew that sadness
Was absolutely a part of my life too.

But instead, I agreed and said,
“Well yes, usually whenever I am at school,
That is when I am my happiest.”

Today, I choose to be gentle with myself,
As I sort out all of the stones that I have collected,
And stretch my weary muscles.

And next week...

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*I will find more backpacks to hold*

About the author: Amanda is a Social Worker currently serving as a School Adjustment Counselor in Haverhill, MA. She adores her work with the children and is continually amazed by the talented and caring staff she is surrounded by each day. Aside from her work family, Amanda lives with her supportive husband and three kids (ages 16, 13 and 6) and enjoys spending time with them "taking in" all the beauty and wonder in the world, while at the same time "talking over" the nonsensical parts of life. She has always enjoyed writing as a creative outlet and a coping strategy for staying balanced and whole. She is hoping to publish something one day and can be reached at amandasymmeslicsw@gmail.com. 

Thank you, Amanda, for your beautiful {heart} work. Keep on crusading for good as you grow alongside others and teach them to take it in and talk it over. 

And now, dear reader, today's challenge: Find that child, with or without the complexion of connection, and offer to help him or her with that backpack for a bit. There's at least one that needs you right now. One lost boy. One lonely girl. One listless child. Carry their backpack. Lighten their load. Be their sunshine.

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