What happened to the baby-faced boy in alternative school, where he kept his head down?
For the past six years I've been an integral part of the Winners Walk Tall series at an alternative school, now known as Indian River Prep. This is where kids who are struggling at their home school with behavioral issues get sent.
It's a fenced-in, highly structured, until recently severely underfunded dumping ground for the most underprivileged and challenged middle and high school students.Each year I'm the first speaker to tell their life story. Hey kid, I was you once upon a time. Here's what I did; here's what I did wrong; here's the consequences I had to pay for my choices. Here's where I changed the trajectory of my life; here's how I did it. Here is how I took my power back.Four years ago there was a new addition to the group. A baby-faced boy who looked like he was 9 years old. Back then he would sit in the corner, as close to a staff member as he could get. I always knew when a speaker I brought in touched him, because all of a sudden he would look up, brush the hair out of his eyes, and take a long, hard look.
Most kids that wind up at this school are only there for a few weeks, maybe months. They have to earn their way back to their home school, and a majority do. Not this boy. Every school year when we would go in for our first session, I'd scan the group and see his face.
In past years, he would usually be face down on the desk, arms folded to hide his eyes. I came to learn that he was a foster kid. Stuck in the system through no fault of his own, simply trying to survive.This year was different. He was no longer the baby-faced boy I wanted to bring home and spoon-feed. Suddenly I was looking up at him, and he had a confidence I had never seen on him before. He started coming over to thank each speaker and shake their hand. His grip tasted like gratitude instead of desperation.
Today was the culmination of all his hard work. As soon as the session was over, he was standing there sheepishly, head bowed and waiting for me to have a moment to give him my full attention. I got done with the conversation I was in the middle of, and turned to him with a smile."Hey kiddo, how you doing?""Guess what, Miss Jane.""What?""This is the last time you're going to see me.""It's just the last time this year, hon, I'll be back.""I won't. I'm going to the main campus for finals."At this point, his smile was so big and bright that I broke all protocol and threw my arms around him. I don't know who was shaking worse; I only know when we finally let go I wiped the tear off of his cheek and let mine fall.I'm so proud of him. Say what you want about this next generation. They are doing the most, having been given the least.He's going back to main campus. I can't wait to see what he does next.
Jane McNulty Snead lives in Vero Beach.
This article originally appeared on Treasure Coast Newspapers: In corner of alternative school, baby-faced boy hid eyes, then ...
