Are You Talking to Yourself?

"Holla If You Need Me" by Trey Songz

...i cant pretend that everythings all good / nope i cant say that everythings all bad / but im gon say that u be on my mind / how u doin who u wit where u be at girl... 

Aloha.  I have been so busy with 2010.

I have a new job as a counselor in a program with the mission of improving the social and behavioral skills of students between the ages of 5 and 14.

The kids come from different schools around the city and demonstrate a vast array of maladaptive, anti-social behaviors.  My coworkers and I seek to help them learn better ways to express negative emotions, follow directions, respect authority, and other skills that most of use take for granted in our social navigations that they have yet to acquire.

My class is 11 beautiful Black girls between the ages of 9 and 14.

Some of their behaviors are shocking, especially the older kids.  You don't expect the kind of immaturity, emotional volatility, uncooperative, and disrespectful behaviors I see to come from kids that age.  They are confrontational, easily angered, attention seeking, cognitively far behind what they should be, demonstrate behaviors consistent with having low self-esteem, and et cetera for days.

I hug them everyday.  I compliment them everyday.  I remind them of the way the world perceives Black women and what Black women really are, how amazing Black women really are, and how amazing they are.

There is a lot of reprimanding and redirecting we have to do and I try to accompany it with love and patience.

**This job has proved to me how patient I can be.  Sometimes, I want to punch some of my students in the face.  They will bring you to a  point of annoyance you have never known before.  But of course I don't do it.  I don't even yell at them often, which is what they expect and usually what they get.  And it is hard not to yell.  This is the year I teach myself patience and this job is a great exercise.

On Thursday, my students were out of control and I had to kick 2 of them out of class to have an individual intervention with the counselor I am assisting.  I was so angry!  Eventually, I talked myself down and reminded myself I shouldn't take it personal.  They behave this way because of the numerous supports and social structures missing in their lives that I had a cornucopia of.  That is why I know (now) how to and how not to talk to people, engage people normally, respect people, think before I act, etc.

Those things are all so foreign to my students.  It takes so much, even to point out why something they say or do is disrespectful.

So on Thursday, I took my 3 problem children into the office and had group with them.  The other counselor I work with, all 11 girls, and I have group everyday around a topic that is usually augmented by expressing their emotions about whatever topic is chosen for that day.

Group had been completed and I was still having a lot of trouble engaging these three students.  When I took them aside, I sat silently for a while, trying not to cry in front of them.  That's what I do when I want to hit you, but I can't.  I cry.

I started talking to them probably like they have never been talked to before.  They looked sullen, but centered, concentrated on what I was saying, and looked directly into my eyes without me having to ask (eye contact is a skill we work on everyday).  All the attitude and fire that usually decorates their face and rages behind their eyes was gone.  They looked liked kids, with no behavioral issues.

I didn't scream at them.  I didn't berate them.  I didn't criticize them.  I just told them the real deal.

I reminded them that they are Black girls living in uber-urban Richmond City, attending school that are not interested in their education, and surrounded by an environment hoping for their failure.  A failed Black life is far more lucrative than a successful one.  I told them that people and a system are waiting for them to fail.  And in a way, they know that.  They write in their journal assignments that no one cares about them, from their mothers, to other relatives, teachers, and even the counselors at our center.

They seem to be viscerally aware that everywhere they go is just some kind of remediation for bad Black kids and so the deliver bad ass Black kids.

I told them that I care, that this job is great but it doesn't pay as much as it should, it requires a lot of self-sacrifice on my part and if I didn't care about them, I would just quit.  I have that option (not really but for the sake of the message, pretend it's true).  I told them I want them to be Black women that the world respects.  Being such entails acting like a Black woman that is respectable.  One shouldn't have to earn respect, but as Black women, as Black people, we do.  You have to outperform the White people just to be evaluated as adequate and not even as one who outperforms.  You do better than the best so as to be labeled a little better than the rest.

I told them about the things I endure each day as a Black woman that White people can tolerate because I don't "talk Black" or "act urban" (yes these are actual things I have heard said to me).  I told them about my dreams and what I dream for them and every Black girl.  I told them about taking advantage of the people who care about them instead of isolating and alienating themselves with confrontational and antagonistic behavior.

I told them about my psychology studies and adeptly diagnosed they ass on the spot (even more concentrated look appears on their faces) and told them what we need to do improve their behavior.

I told them about the family environment I want in our classroom and how we Black women tend to criticize rather than compliment each other.

That strong Black women stuff really sold.  And I was excited because I really meant it.  And Black History Month is right on time.  Monday, we'll of course discuss our Black inventors, activists, veterans, etc.  But we will also discuss pathologies in the Black community, self esteem, read literature by Black women for Black women for the purpose of uplifting.

This is my small start.

*I am trying my best not to indoctrinate them with my dislike and disdain for White people and men while i empower them as strong Black women but it is hard!*

Also, I am so passionate about Black girls/women, or course and I am taking 15 credits and Afrikana is doing some big things for the Burial Ground issue in Richmond and I am doing my business on the side.  Being SuperWomyn could be exhausting but I can do it.  Sleep is overrated.  right? right?!