“All the leaves are brown and the sky is grey…” that’s where the song ends for me because I never leave my office but winter is in full swing and I can feel the urge to head west gnawing at me.
I’ve written about my west coast trips a number of times so I won’t bother you again. Instead, I’d like to talk about something I’ve done my entire life and continue to do today. It’s something that a lot of foster youth are guilty of, for good or for bad. It’s longing.
When I was younger, I longed for dozens of things, stability and a good jump shot among them. As I got older, I would walk around town, looking through open windows in the homes I passed. If I caught a glimpse of a family dinner or a family settling in to watch a movie, I would long to belong. As the years went on I longed for things like a better job, a nicer car, a better home to raise my kids in, etc. There are some who would call this desire, drive or a goal driven existence, I’ve always called it what it is; longing.
Foster kids have longing by the truckload. They can’t help it. You see, at the time, foster care is the absolute worst thing world, conceptually to, let’s say, a teen. As I recall, it felt like the end of the world and I longed for so many things to escape the reality of my world. Oh the things I longed for when I was a teen! Some were trivial. Others were intense needs that could have brought me some sort of comfort. That’s all longing real is; a search for comfort. Your kid acting out? Probably uncomfortable.
The challenge is finding the source of that discomfort.
I’m no parenting expert…or maybe I am? I am the father of 3 well-adjusted kids and I have been raised by a couple dozen parents, so maybe I am a semi-expert.
In my firsthand experience with finding that discomfort, it can be something simple or something with layers to peel back. My son was a rambunctious little guy. Entertaining for me, not so much for his teachers. They called my wife and I in to the school to discuss his inability to sit still. I am my son’s father. He is his father’s son. We both have control issues.
They read me the clichéd “we think he may have ADHD” nonsense. Because my son and I are basically the same person; I’d been here before, I’ve seen this movie. Rather than getting all bent out of shape or slamming my hands on the table, I simply requested an allotment of time to handle the issue myself. You see, when I was in that very same position at his age, with everyone discussing my future around me, I longed for anyone to ask my opinion. Anyone. No one ever thought to ask me what I thought the problem was. For me, it was all about boredom. I’m not sure anyone could have fixed me without prescription drugs but I sure would have liked the option.
After some prodding it turned out all he really needed was some glasses, some positive attention and oddly enough, some new clothes. He said he liked dressing nice because it made him feel smarter. Who am I to argue with that? He got his glasses, some polo shirts and an old fashioned pat on the back, he was all set. Did it take? Three years later and he’s still incident free. A little lazy on the work side, maybe a bit disorganized but calm, pleasant and no longer a name that makes teachers grab for the Xanax.
Maybe remembering back to what we longed for as kids is the key to helping today’s kids? Maybe all it takes is a little extra time to ask them what the deal is? Chances are there is something they long for that they just aren’t getting. But what do I know? I sit in this office day in and day out. I parent as best I can and depend on my wife to fill in the gaps I miss.
So while I’m sitting here, space heater on full blast at my feet, I long for a beach somewhere to get my body temp back up to par. I long for my kids to have a good life. I long for a healthy life for the magazine. And I long for this column to be over so you can check out the jam packed issue I’ve put together for you.
Enjoy it.
Owner/Editor - Chris Chmielewski