Last week I launched my book “Changing Your Weather” and with three different opportunities to provide workshops to kids. Unsurprisingly, these produced a WHOLE list of emotions from me (we really don’t have enough time). Though truthfully, gratefulness would be the one that stands out the most when I look back over all of the wonderful and candid experiences all the kids allowed me to be part of. I’m not talking about them letting me read to them, play games, or even enjoy s’mores cupcakes and bubble water from a wonderful after-school provider (seriously… I’m not sure I would have shared those cupcakes with anyone!).
The kids allowed me into their world. Unabashedly showed me how they were feeling about me, my book, the games we played. From their questioning looks about what I was saying, to their sincere appreciation and excitement when I played harmonica to show them how to enhance a memory. It was extraordinary to see them unencumbered of reservations or the cultural idea that it’s not all right to have any emotion they were feeling. My first opportunity to present the book really set the stage for the rest of the week. I was invited by a wonderful after-school provider to ‘read’ to her kids (like I could ever just read without interacting and engaging with the kids!). It was exceptional to be invited in, not just by the caregiver, but by the kids themselves…
It all started with me accompanying the after-school provider, I’ll call her Jane, to pick the kids up from school. After the kids joined us outside of the school, I quickly realized that they were sizing me up. A fourth grader, nicknamed “Augie” (no real names here), was quick to inform me that she knew I was coming and was wondering if I was basically the guy who wrote the book they were going to hear. “Emmy,” another fourth grader, was curious (possibly a bit skeptical) that I wrote AND illustrated the book, and soon chatted away about her dealings in school without reservation. “Jackson,” a first grader, looked like he was just really \’alright\’ to go with the flow of whatever was going to happen, and tolerated with grace that I was going to be part of the next few hours of his life.
By the time we got to Jane’s house, I felt like I was already accepted as part of the crew. But, like any grown-up with a “plan” (those things we get irritated by if they don’t work out exactly to order), I started to get in my head a bit. How would I approach this with them? How should I start off? Do I just start reading to them, or should I pose some questions to get them interested beforehand? Mind you, while I’m in my self-created dilemma, these kids are joking with each other, getting their school stuff off, and heading over to the table preparing to eat their mac and cheese while talking about their day with one another. One of the 4th grade girls offered me a chair — a place to sit at the table, which kind of startled me out of my over-thinking, and had me grateful to be thought of. Only problem was…
It was Jackson’s chair and place at the table.
Jackson very clearly stated this, in a way that basically let everyone know that it upset him. No yelling, just showed his disappointment on his face. I quickly jumped to say that I can sit in another spot to try and slow his emotional reaction from upgrading to anger. But Jackson didn’t need me to be over-responsible for his feelings. He expressed his sadness with a good cry at being overlooked. No finger pointing. No judgment towards his counterparts or me. He was just upset, and sad at the thought of not having ‘his spot’ at the table.
Jane came over and gave him a hug.
She didn’t try to talk it away, just held him a minute, and then asked the girls if maybe they could suggest another seat for me. Before she was even done saying it, Jackson had already moved through his sadness, and now was moving towards his place at the table. Within minutes, he was happily chowing down on his mac and cheese. There was no residual emotional blame. No acting out or repressing his emotions. He was clearly fine allowing the emotions to pass through him and then to move on to the next moment, ready to see what it held for him (it held mac and cheese… also me wearing his apron (Jackson insisted on this), and reading my book before playing bit of harmonica, all of which he showed curiosity, extreme excitement, and varying degrees of happiness over ????).
I always knew from coaching, treating kids in my acupuncture practice, and being a father, that children are our best teachers when it comes to emotions. But I was truly grateful for Jackson showing me that there was no need to be in my head when it came to speaking with his after-school crew. I’ve heard the saying recently, “when the student is ready, the master will appear.” Jackson reminded me of the importance of allowing my emotions to move through me without judgment, to take each moment as it came…and to respect his place at the table! ????
