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Abstract

d experience fully communicated in an objectively explicit manner. -Webster’s</blockquote>I am empathic and sometimes it’s a problem in my profession. I absorb my students’ anger and hopelessness. I take their anger with me. It works its way into my bones and takes up residence. I can’t help it, so I learn to use it to open doors into the reasons why my kids are consumed by so much anger.I am an African American man, and that fact gives me the means to walk through the locked door into their lives. Once I am behind the door, I can sit with them and dissect the causes of their situation.The majority of my students are African American males and females. When I ask them to write about their anger, the truth begins to pour through the open door.I read about absent fathers who are either locked up or never around to assist in raising them. They tell me about abusive men taking up residence with their mom only to have a place to live. If their anger were fire, the paper would burn to cinders.They talk about how the police stalk their neighborhoods like rabid dogs and don’t offer help.I am told stories of how teachers ignore them and make racist remarks about how they will never be anything but a thug or won’t ever graduate.A young man recently told me his story. It was heartbreaking. He didn’t attend school because his mom always threw him out. The boy is only 15 and expecting his second child. How can we expect him to taste success if there is no support from his mom?They want to be good dads but have no example. It’s on the job training, and they have no instructor.I tell them the story of my life and how I understand their anger. I know because I am angry too.I am tired of reading news about another shooting involving an African male or female. It almost doesn’t matter the gender.I am tired of an educational system which systematically fails our black kids. My school district graduates <a href="https://www.illinoisreportcard.com/District.aspx?source=trends&source2=graduationrate&Districtid=04101205025">54 percent of African Americans.</a> It’s a dismal rate which hasn’t improved in years. Furthermore, according to my in-house data, over 80 percent of our kids are not enrolled in school. I have some as young as 14 not attending an educational institution.These obstacles make it difficult to unlock the doors my students put up. However, if I don’t try, it’s a disservice to my kids and

Options

the community.Yes, I empathize because I understand how anger and hopelessness can destroy you if you don’t open the door to healing and love.<h2 id="288b">Open a locked door with love.</h2>I must put some love in the bank with them before I can proceed. Authenticity is a requirement to open any door with the kids I teach. If you are fake, there is little to no chance of opening the door.I tell them I love and care several times a week. How do I expect to teach anything If I don’t keep their heads up?I've taught “McBeth,” “Hamlet,” “Fences,” and “Raisin in the Sun” since my tenure at JDC. When the detention staff (not the other teachers) found out what I was doing they scoffed at the idea. How can I expect a worthless group of kids who don’t go to school to appreciate Shakespeare and great American playwrights?What’s even more outstanding is that the playwrights are African American like them and tell stories they can relate to as minorities in our country.Literature can break down doors, especially if the readers see themselves in the narrative.I couldn’t have done any of this without offering love and possibility to their tired spirits.I taught a poetry unit this recent school year. I carried them through it step by step. In the end, I had kids writing beautiful poetry because they fell in love with the genre. Why? Because I allowed them to see my passion for the art form and that I wanted them to excel. A young man in my class wrote two Shakespearean sonnets. I beamed with pride, and so did he.It was the love and vulnerability I showed, which allowed me to break down those doors to learning new things.<h2 id="47e0">I hope the doors remain open</h2>When the detainees leave juvenile, I hope the door remains open, and they return to their education or remove negative friends from their lives. Hopefully, they can mend relationships with their parents and allow them behind the barriers to find comfort again.We put up doors to protect ourselves from further harm. We don’t trust anyone because, in the past, we were let down by another human being. In my line of work, the majority of the time it’s an adult who let the child down.As adults, we don’t understand the capacity we have to harm our offspring. We, as parents, must do the very best we can to prevent doors from going up. However, some of us adults have our own doors we must tear down before we can help our children.</article></body>

How to Open the Door to a Troubled Child

The keys are compassion, empathy, and Love.

I am a teacher of incarcerated kids. It’s a tough job which requires patience and perseverance. They arrive at juvenile with many issues from sexual abuse to drugs. Many of them spend a significant amount of time on the streets trying to survive. However, with all of this baggage, I still must teach them. I must try to teach them the best way I can.

There seems to be no way in with some of my students. The doors to what pain lies behind their eyes are often closed, but I’ve discovered the keys to opening these doors is compassion, empathy, and love. I must sincerely show I care before I can move forward.

The compassion equation.

sympathetic consciousness of others’ distress together with a desire to alleviate it- Websters

I offer compassion by asking how can I help them make better choices when they are released. I remind them how valuable an education is to their success. Their lives are important to me, and I must exemplify that through my actions.

My kids can detect false compassion. Why? Because each one of them has a story to tell, and in the past, no one listened. I pay attention with a keen ear and don’t speak until they are done. The educational and judicial systems sometimes stifle their voices. I want to hear their stories and unlock the door to their heart and feelings.

They must know their lives are meaningful, and I am there for them at any time during my day. Some of them don’t have a caring adult in their lives, and it’s up to me to provide that missing piece while they reside with me.

I sometimes wish I could go home with them and provide the attention needed for their success. I want the door to compassion to remain open, but I am afraid once they leave juvenile it will close again.

The empathy of understanding.

The action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another of either the past or present without having the feelings, thoughts, and experience fully communicated in an objectively explicit manner. -Webster’s

I am empathic and sometimes it’s a problem in my profession. I absorb my students’ anger and hopelessness. I take their anger with me. It works its way into my bones and takes up residence. I can’t help it, so I learn to use it to open doors into the reasons why my kids are consumed by so much anger.

I am an African American man, and that fact gives me the means to walk through the locked door into their lives. Once I am behind the door, I can sit with them and dissect the causes of their situation.

The majority of my students are African American males and females. When I ask them to write about their anger, the truth begins to pour through the open door.

I read about absent fathers who are either locked up or never around to assist in raising them. They tell me about abusive men taking up residence with their mom only to have a place to live. If their anger were fire, the paper would burn to cinders.

They talk about how the police stalk their neighborhoods like rabid dogs and don’t offer help.

I am told stories of how teachers ignore them and make racist remarks about how they will never be anything but a thug or won’t ever graduate.

A young man recently told me his story. It was heartbreaking. He didn’t attend school because his mom always threw him out. The boy is only 15 and expecting his second child. How can we expect him to taste success if there is no support from his mom?

They want to be good dads but have no example. It’s on the job training, and they have no instructor.

I tell them the story of my life and how I understand their anger. I know because I am angry too.

I am tired of reading news about another shooting involving an African male or female. It almost doesn’t matter the gender.

I am tired of an educational system which systematically fails our black kids. My school district graduates 54 percent of African Americans. It’s a dismal rate which hasn’t improved in years. Furthermore, according to my in-house data, over 80 percent of our kids are not enrolled in school. I have some as young as 14 not attending an educational institution.

These obstacles make it difficult to unlock the doors my students put up. However, if I don’t try, it’s a disservice to my kids and the community.

Yes, I empathize because I understand how anger and hopelessness can destroy you if you don’t open the door to healing and love.

Open a locked door with love.

I must put some love in the bank with them before I can proceed. Authenticity is a requirement to open any door with the kids I teach. If you are fake, there is little to no chance of opening the door.

I tell them I love and care several times a week. How do I expect to teach anything If I don’t keep their heads up?

I've taught “McBeth,” “Hamlet,” “Fences,” and “Raisin in the Sun” since my tenure at JDC. When the detention staff (not the other teachers) found out what I was doing they scoffed at the idea. How can I expect a worthless group of kids who don’t go to school to appreciate Shakespeare and great American playwrights?

What’s even more outstanding is that the playwrights are African American like them and tell stories they can relate to as minorities in our country.

Literature can break down doors, especially if the readers see themselves in the narrative.

I couldn’t have done any of this without offering love and possibility to their tired spirits.

I taught a poetry unit this recent school year. I carried them through it step by step. In the end, I had kids writing beautiful poetry because they fell in love with the genre. Why? Because I allowed them to see my passion for the art form and that I wanted them to excel. A young man in my class wrote two Shakespearean sonnets. I beamed with pride, and so did he.

It was the love and vulnerability I showed, which allowed me to break down those doors to learning new things.

I hope the doors remain open

When the detainees leave juvenile, I hope the door remains open, and they return to their education or remove negative friends from their lives. Hopefully, they can mend relationships with their parents and allow them behind the barriers to find comfort again.

We put up doors to protect ourselves from further harm. We don’t trust anyone because, in the past, we were let down by another human being. In my line of work, the majority of the time it’s an adult who let the child down.

As adults, we don’t understand the capacity we have to harm our offspring. We, as parents, must do the very best we can to prevent doors from going up. However, some of us adults have our own doors we must tear down before we can help our children.