“… I’m only 13″
I work in a juvenile corrections facility as a “Group Life Coordinator” which is kind of a combination of many things like guard, counselor, babysitter, parent, mentor, etc. Sometimes it can be a very rewarding job, other times (as you know if you have read my earlier posts) it can be very trying. The holidays can be especially difficult because so many of the young men I work with have families who don’t adequately care for them.
These guys are locked up because they have committed crimes so it’s no surprise that they have negative behaviors, but the holidays can make things even worse. It wears on me. Partly because I have a certain amount of care and concern for the youths I work with, but mostly because being in such a negative atmosphere just isn’t good for a person’s spirit. Consequently, my patience and tolerance get a bit less plentiful. Sometimes I get to be abrupt or stern with the guys which just adds to the whole problem, really. It happens every year, but it always takes me a few weeks to notice it, then I remember something that happened when I first started working in the facility that gives me a little smile and helps to put things in perspective.
I was a new staff working on an unfamiliar living unit with another inexperienced staff. In those days it was 2 staff to 27 youths in each unit. It’s slightly better now with 3 to 27. And it was the holiday season. Needless to say, it was a difficult shift. Being new to the job I had not acquired many skills for effectively directing the behavior of delinquent teenagers. You parents out there probably know the feeling.
Finally it was time for bed and we got all the guys into the dorm and in their beds. The dorm area is a secure area and there is little tolerance for disturbance. I had been taught this in the academy and I intended to keep order. From my post I could observe all 27 youths in their beds. The dorm on the unit I was working is “L” shaped and the observing staff sits outside the caged dorm area at the corner of the “L”. On this unit there was a bunk bed right at the corner of the “L” sticking out into the dorm so that the youth on the top of the bunk was in a perfect position to see and be seen by everyone else in the dorm. Why they arranged the beds this way I will never know, and will never allow in the future.
As you might have guessed, the youth on the top of that bunk is the topic of my story. I had given directives to the youths in the dorm that they were to be “on silence” and remain in their beds. Most of the guys were compliant and went right to bed, but the young man on that top bunk just wouldn’t settle down. Despite several instructions to quiet down and go to sleep, he continued to toss and turn, whisper, and giggle. My authority was in jeopardy and I had had enough. I got the youth’s attention and told him quite directly that if he did not quiet down I would call security to handle the situation.
He was quiet. Finally. Just when I started to settle down myself, I heard a voice from the dorm. It was that young man on the top bunk. “Mr. Benham?” he called.
“What?” I snapped. “Why can’t you be quiet?”
In a timid and apologetic voice he said, “… I’m only 13.”
Suddenly I realized that he was not only a criminal and a trouble maker, but he was also just a kid. It wasn’t that I didn’t know he was only 13, I had just been so caught up in my job that I didn’t know how to separate criminal behavior from that of normal teenage boys (who can?).
I laughed. “OK,” I said, “you have 5 minutes to giggle, then I need you to settle down.”
“Thanks,” he said. And in 5 minutes he was asleep.
I love this story. Sometimes I forget it, but it always comes back to me when it’s important. Like last night. I think I might make it through this holiday season at work after all.
