Our Roots

I have always felt a calling to advocate for children, even when I was a child myself. For as long as I can remember, I have been aware and frustrated that children’s voices are not always valued and that their humanity is not always appreciated. The first person I can trace this feeling to is my childhood friend Jonathan*. At 8 years old, we played together daily. We loved to walk to our neighborhood creek and collect frogs. We created habitats for them on my front porch using shoe boxes and items from my garden. Jonathan was kind, funny, charismatic, and most notably, gentle with all living things. He thrived in the outdoor spaces where we played. School, however, was very difficult for him to navigate. At the time, I didn't completely understand this. His behavior in school didn’t seem problematic to 8-year-old me – Jonathan was his typical funny, charismatic self – but from the adult perspective, he was impulsive and disruptive. I distinctly remember Mrs. Hendricks*, our teacher, grabbing him by his ear and marching him out of the classroom to sit in the hallway, all alone. It was scary, unnecessary, and sadly, to me and Jonathan, occurred regularly. I was frustrated by Mrs. Hendricks' inability to see Jonathan’s gifts, but I did not have the language to articulate my feelings or the voice to name this injustice. What I do recall, however, is wanting to give Jonathan a hug when this happened; to tell him it would be ok, and to help him see that he was exactly who he needed to be.

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As an adult and professional in the field of early intervention, support, and inclusion, I can surmise that Jonathan likely had Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). And, like many children living with ADHD and other diagnosed or undiagnosed conditions, I’m sure school was hard for him. I imagine teachers like Mrs. Hendricks did their best given the tools they had. While I hope future teachers were kinder to Jonathan and that he ultimately found a community who could see past his behaviors and celebrate his gifts, I’ll never know for sure because Jonathan disappeared. Or at least it felt like that to me. In reality, his family moved, and nobody thought to tell me. This oversight, while likely inadvertent, also shapes how I practice. Children know a lot. They are perceptive, intuitive, and experience the full range of human emotions, even the big ones that scare us adults! Their developing brains will use whatever data they have to make sense of what they can’t process. It is our job to help them develop a strong foundation to do this with increasing strength as they grow.

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I have much gratitude for Jonathan. He taught me early on that our strengths are not always recognized unless we conform to societal expectations. I’ve spent decades untangling the behaviors that often conceal inherent strengths that children have. I believe that the way we respond when young children speak to us through their behaviors, and how we choose to scaffold situations for them, will shape their self-image for years to come. In my thirty years of working with families, I have found no greater joy than seeing tears of frustration (children and parents!) turn to smiles of confidence and accomplishment. I look forward to supporting you and your child on this journey as they build their roots to grow, develop, and blossom. 

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*Names have been changed for confidentiality purposes.

 

Kind regards,

Stephanie

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