A while ago I got a note about a student. I was told by a relative, “You should know that he’s a bad kid.”
Wow. Labels already. Does the kid self-identify as a ‘bad kid’ and if so, how hard does he have to work to ensure his label is properly affixed? (Not hard, actually, most people seem willing to accept it).
I wrote her back and said,“There are no such thing as ‘bad kids’ there are just ‘baggaged kids’ and it’s our job as teachers to help them to unpack.”
I thought it was a profound sentiment, and I realise that it’s not an easy chore. Some kids come from homes where instability is the order of the day. They have addicted parents and often have intimate experience with physical, emotional and sexual abuse. They see violence as the routine way to interact in their community. Their behavior only manifests their reality.
In Restitution workshops a few years ago, I learned one key concept that has been guiding my teaching practice since:
All behavior is purposeful.
The behavior is meeting a need, or the person would not be doing it. Whether they’re having a tantrum, doing drugs, or staring at a wall, they’re doing it for a reason. The skill comes from teaching the individual how to meet his or her needs in a way that is socially appropriate. We have to meet the need and coach growth and confidence.
Have you ever unpacked after a kid’s trip to camp? The dirt ridden, crumpled articles that come out of the bag look nothing like the pristinely clean and neatly folded articles that went in. Socks stand by themselves. Underwear may be slightly green. Knees are missing from pants. Things are a mess. There may be unfamiliar creatures along for the ride. It’s unpleasant pulling the stinky, disgusting mess out of the bag. Unpacking is a challenging thing. No one wants to do that work.
We need to haul it all to the laundry to scrub things back into a semblance of their former state. We need to stitch up the holes. Sometimes the articles are so thoroughly destroyed that we need to replace them with new ones that can do the job better. We need to get the kids squeaky clean and polished like they are heading off on the first day of school: full of promise and confident that they have the skills to face any challenge, secure in the knowledge that when there are things that they can’t cope with, that adults will be there to help them through it.
Every kid deserves a fresh bag of clothes.
.
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PS. Sadly, I know that there are some situations that go beyond these skills. Sociopathy and psychopathy are going to require far more than metaphorical laundry soap, but society requires we endeavor to do our best.
Write this and that, but skip the crap! October 27, 2010
Tags: Dr Seuss, editing, writing
Yahoo Canada News reports on a 19 page manuscript for an unfinished work by Theodore Geisl aka Dr. Seuss going up for auction.
And that is the mark of a quality writer, isn’t it? Not everything is worth disseminating to the world! The ability to filter and to edit is crucial to ensure excellence. For the beginning writer, each word is like gold. It is so much work to get them on the page that you become attached to them. To be asked to edit, that is, to re-think, to re-vision, to re-word, to re-phrase, or to just cut something right out– well, it is like cutting off a piece of your body. (A piece you like and want, not something like a gangrenous foot, but something like your nose). In time however, we may see that the thing we like IS eating away at our manuscript, making it less than it should be, and like gangrene or a cancer, it must be cut out.
On the other hand, sometimes pain is good for us. It may cause us a sense of loss to see our perfect prose slashed through with blue pencil, but a re-read a safe distance away in time, and the improvements are undeniable. Sometimes we must let go to find the stronger writer within us.
Meg Tilley told me once during a blue pencil session that she saves the words by putting them at the back of the manuscript. She finds it comforting to know they’re still around until she’s completely secure that it’s right to let them go. I don’t do that. I have complete copies of the manuscript saved, so a session of cutting and slicing doesn’t bother me. After a rest to let the words lose their holy status, I approach the edit with verve. When I’m sure it’s time for the words to go, I am free slice them off with impunity. I find it cathartic, actually. I like the 10% per edit rule, and it works. Subsequent readings move more and more smoothly.
But before there are the fine word by word edits, there are the concept edits. There are those stories that seem like good ideas at the time. We get started, have a few hundred pages invested and then it is obvious that this just isn’t going to be what it needs to be. Like Seuss did with Pete the Athlete, sometimes we have to bid farewell to characters that don’t have what it takes to bring readers to care about their problem, if indeed they have one. Every story needs a conflict or there is no point in reading. Jocks like Pete are only legends in their own minds. Good call Dr. Sorry Pete.
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