“You’ve always had the power my dear, you just had to learn it for yourself.” – L. Frank Baum’s character, Glinda the Good Witch from the Wizard of Oz
By Heather Mistretta
As we near the end of our mentoring this summer, I feel gratitude and hope and honestly, I can say, a sigh of relief. Really. Some of the lives of the kids we mentor are teetering on the precipice between success and doom. They’re dealing with things that no child should ever have to face. Some of them are evident; others are masked by silence, despondence or an arrogant or misguided skillset of survival skills.
I can’t wait to reconnect with these kids on another program, hopefully this fall. But right now, once again for another year, I’m feeling humbled by the fact that the youth we mentored weren’t the only ones who learned something. If only they all realized their power and value and the joy they bring those lucky enough to be around them. Each day at least one of them amazed me with their words or expression through art.
It’s a steep hill some of these kids climb, but I’m hopeful they have the courage, tools and guides to get them to the top or wherever along the hill they choose to reach. There are loose stones along the way, and the climate can get pretty rough at times, but I’m left feeling that many of them will be okay. To those who are obviously suffering and dealing with what might seem like insurmountable challenges, please know there is always someone out there to help you, including me.
I don’t know violence in the streets and abuse at the hands of those who brought them into this life, but I do know what abuse from someone who says they love you feels like. It’s that bruise that’s sometimes invisible but still hurts when you put pressure or a light on it.
I often told the kids that I would only give them something I knew they were capable of doing, and I meant it. I also told them that I would never make them do anything that threatened their self-worth or safety…and I hoped they would do the same for themselves.
Because I needed to honor my promise, I encountered one kid who challenged me on that. He was an awesome smart kid. I never made him do any assignment he didn’t want to do, but I also told him that when he was in college or had a job and a professor or boss who asked him to do something, telling him that it was voluntary, you do that assignment every single time. He totally got it.
You never want to be that someone who does the bare minimum.
So, as I sit here at my computer remembering many moments of mentoring, I’m left feeling like the indomitable Dolores Huerta. “Yes, we can.”