Where Is My Mind?

Let’s chat it up about my brain. My brain, your brain, kids’ brain, brains in general.

Recently two of my three kids (all mine, married the mom then had the kids, myth buster!) were tested for the aptitude at school. Kind of an IQ test to see where they are at this point in the game. One of the many benefits of a small town school system. They sat down with a few counselors and took a couple of tests. The counselors sat in class and watched them as they interacted with the teachers and other students.

Because my wife is really active in PTA (I am not) she is friends with the bulk of the school’s staff (again, I am not, I am chained to this desk) and one of those staff members happened to drop off their kids to play with ours and took a moment to go over the tests.

I remember these tests. These are the test they gave to the “unique”, “creative”, “active” kids back when I was in school. I took these tests. Some I took seriously, some I just messed with the counselor. I knew what they wanted back then; they wanted to zombify me with their wonder wheel of pills. I knew it, that’s why I messed with them.

Back in my day, they would test us around age 11 when you were just fine tuning what kind smartass you were going to be. I was destined to be the heavyweight champion of the smartasses. I’ve got a quick wit, sharp tongue and an entire history of television references at my disposal. Always have, and at the time I was as sharp as any 11 year old could be. But I couldn’t sit still. I knew I couldn’t. I still can’t. My son has inherited this trait.

It’s because of that fact that I’ve been in this meeting before. A few years back, my son, who was maybe 7 or 8 at the time, wasn’t toeing the line as far as his teacher was concerned. I walked into that meeting prepared to fight tooth and nail to keep him away from the Ritalin fueled life I led. The hit me with all the hot words of the day, I swear they even brought RAD into the conversation. Ultimately they begrudgingly accepted my proposal of giving my wife and myself six months to get a handle on what was bothering him.

Turns out, all the boy needed was some new clothes for his confidence, some new glasses for his eyes and a little monitoring and pushing to complete his work. When I got to care, it turned out all I needed was to be off Ritalin. Simple solutions to complex problems? I don’t think so.

For all our posturing, all our advocacy, all our good intentions, the thing we forget to do on a consistent basis is; ASKING THE DAMN KIDS!

The very first thing I did when I was confronted with my son’s school issue was ask what was up. Why? Because that’s what my foster parents did when I got to their house.

You probably wonder why a smart kid would mess with test administrators. Because no one talked to me, that’s why. I was a kid acting out because I was a pawn in some weird grownup game. My only defense was to attack with wit. But when I got to care, after my foster dad’s infamous “work 3 times harder than everyone else in the room” speech, I was asked where I was having trouble. Someone FRIGGIN ASKED ME!

I explained that I sometimes got bored in life and school. That I was sick of being a zombie. That I had a lot on the inside that needed a way to come out. That I was lost and kind of okay with that, even though I knew it would be better to have some direction. I explained that no one took what I thought into consideration.

The next day my pills were gone. There was a notepad and pen on my bed. There was also a pile of my books that got lost in the shuffle of entering care. And a new Walkman! (If you read any of my stuff in the past, you know the Walkman was the only thing that followed me to care). So that’s my blueprint; I listen to my kids, because someone listened to me.

So by listening my son is now Adderall and Ritalin free, as well as a quality student.

My middle child and youngest child have had zero school related issues. Strange how kids don’t fit a pattern, huh?

As I sat at my kitchen table, across from my wife’s friend/worker from the school, preparing to hear the world’s take on my little man, I thought back to the meeting about his behavior. They were so sure there was something wrong with him. What would an IQ test reveal? Was I wrong? Should I have let them give him the pills they said he needed to focus? Did I screw up my kid?

The results couldn’t have been any better!

I’ll spare you the details, but the gist of it is my kid is crazy smart. He expressed himself well in the oral part of the exam, held his own in the written part and was squeaky clean while being observed in class.

I was proud of myself for believing in him but more proud of him for stepping up and speaking up about what it would take to make him the kind of kid that has a nice life.

Fact is, every kid’s brain is different. Hell, every person’s brain is different. There’s a reason the phrase “like-minded” exists. Twins don’t even think EXACTLY alike. That would be weird.

What else is on brain this month? Not a lot. It’s been a rough start to year 5 and the summer. All the traveling has made for a chaotic rush to get caught back on schedule. I don’t mind being everywhere, I really don’t, I just wish I was better at time management. I managed to get this one done in under two weeks and kept the quality level up, tough to do, I think I pulled it off.

It’s a good issue. Chock full of good articles and a couple new Contributors. I hope you enjoy it.

Before I take off and get started on the August issue, I wanted to let you know where I’m headed.

This will more than likely be the last ride for my steed; The Golden Child. That gold Chrysler Sebring has been all over the country since I purchased it back when the magazine began. Well over 100,000 miles later (you can probably add at least that mileage in rental cars over that same span) and it is ready to become some kid’s first car. I hate when things end but The Golden Child (named for fellow foster care alum, Eddie Murphy’s film) has served the magazine and myself admirably. So for one last time, we hit the road.

Topeka, Kansas is the first stop. I’ll be doing something I have come to really begun to enjoy; talking directly to foster youth. The Kansas Youth Advisory Council has invited me to keynote their event. My mantra has been “I won’t seek out speaking engagements, but if you ask me to, I’ll come.” It has worked well for me so far, I generally only speak at events held by folks I’ve met, makes for a much more enjoyable time. Vicki Richardson, a good friend, suggested me and for that reason I am more than happen to make the drive.

Real quick, why drive? Because I enjoy it and you can't see America through an airplane window.

After that I will tour the Orphan Train museum before heading west to Denver for the FFTA conference. Following my brief time in Colorado I head southeast to Austin, Texas, where I will help out with a book project that my friends at Cenpatico have been working on for a better part of a year. While I’m there I hope to put the final touches on the long awaited Foster Parent/Social Worker Ventline. Teaming up with the National Foster Parent Association was a stroke of genius.

From Texas I may head west to Arizona or simply call it a trip and head home. There are some east coast things that need attending. Like what you ask? How about the New York Jets Training camp?

That’s right! The Jets drafted a foster kid and I’m going to meet him. Will it go as well as the Jimmy Graham visit? Not sure. Jimmy ended up getting traded to my favorite team’s rival.

Here’s to hoping that won’t happen again!

There’s more but I’ve run out of column space…See you all next month! Enjoy the issue.