plodding the globe.

I cannot get this kid, Simon, out of my head. Simon is one of my students in Grade 4 at Christian-David. Sitting in the back of the room with 3 other Xhosa boys, he’s always stood out to me. This might be because the kids around him are really outgoing and funny and always cracking jokes with me, or trying to get my attention for something or other. But not Simon. He usually sits there with a stoic look on his face, rarely responding to my attempts at connecting with him or making him laugh.
At times I saw Simon trying to “fit in” with some of the kids in my class who are known for their devious behavior, smoking in the bathroom or skipping school and hanging out at the traffic lights by their house. I’ve talked about a few of these kids in the past. And now Simon seems to be interested in this life they lead.
And then there was the time when Ryan and I made a “house call” because this lady asked me to bring a social worker to talk with her. Turns out this woman has a son, Godfrey, who is friends with Simon although they go to different schools. So, Simon was there the day we showed up to talk to the mother. He seemed more comfortable out of his school environment. For some reason, and I know this sounds awful, but he and I both got the giggles while the woman was telling us about how her son got expelled from school for having marijuana. That in itself is not funny, but when a drunk, half-dressed woman claiming all rights as this child’s MOTHER is trying to tell us her son is a bad kid, and making these gestures as if she’s going to wack him upside the head at any moment, I couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this must appear to Godfrey and his friends. Surely kids can see the hypocrisy in the words of such parents. Simon had to leave the house and I had to put my head in my hands to hide my laughter.
I don’t know if that day broke the ice or what, but the next time I saw Simon, he was TOTALLY different. He came running up to me and threw his arms around me, and didn’t let go of me for a good 5 minutes. I had conversations with his teacher, the principal, other kids, and my coteacher Sherna, all the while little Simon is just chillin’ there with his arms wrapped around my waist, looking up at me while I talk as if he’s a part of my body or something. I tried not to show my surprise at his change!
That had to be at least 2 months ago, but slowly Simon has become more and more a part of my heart. I think about this kid multiple times throughout the day. I look for him when I go to Capricorn. A few weekends ago, I was planning to drive out to Mitchell’s Plain to see Ryan perform and I didn’t want to go alone, and Simon was one of the first kids I thought to take along. I couldn’t find him that day, but when I told him I had looked for him, he suddenly seemed to believe that I really enjoy being around him, and that he’s an important person to me. I’ve watched teh insecurities and fears he once had with regards to talking to me totally wither away as he’s learned to accept my attention. It’s almost as if he’s never been offered it before.

I’ve been really praying for Simon, because he is on that proverbial “line” we refer to when talking about vulnerable children. It’s that place in their life that I believe they all encounter where they must begin making very conscious choices to do or not do certain things, be with certain people, go to certain places. Some days he is dancing on the safe side of the line, enjoying the sun and the breeze, watching the world go by and seemingly content with being “good”. Other days, most days actually, I see Simon strutting through Capricorn with Carly-boy and Popsie, off to smoke a cigarette, maybe a joint, and hang out by the traffic lights. Just this week I’ve seen him doing this EVERY DAY and it brings some pain to my heart. He thinks it’s cool to be out on the streets, walking around, doing his own thing. He sees it as a place of acceptance.

I have observed Simon regularly, as I enjoy watching these kids interact and trying to figure out what leads each individual child to behave the way they do. The first thing I learned about Simon through his behavior is that he is incredibly, dangerously insecure. He’s an adorable kid, he’s athletic, he’s funny, he’s sweet…but he’s so insecure. That’s why he hides in groups where he doesn’t need to be an individual. He’s using drugs because it gives him an identity, a group to be with without having to be vulnerable. He just does what they say, and in return they give him acceptance. Believe me, I recognized this in Simon almost immediately—I am quite familiar with this sort of behavior. I’m also very scared for Simon because I see where such behavior led me.

Secondly, I have observed that he’s not noticed most of the time, that his home life is probably void of love and attention and affection—all things a growing child needs and has rights to. That’s why he didn’t even try to interact with me at first…because he didn’t know what to do with attention, with love, with consistent affirmation and interest on my part. I see the gaping holes that a lack of nurturing has left in Simon, even at his young age.

I am reading Donald Miller’s book “To Own A Dragon” again in this season of my life where I seem to be really heartbroken for certain children here that don’t have a father figure. I know Simon has a stepfather, and that his real father died when he was small. Miller says what I’m thinking about Simon not being noticed (and the effects of that) so beautifully:

“Dwight Eisenhower said his mother and father made an assumption that set the course of his life—that the world could be fixed of its problems if every child understood the necessity of their existence. Eisenhower’s parents assumed if their children weren’t alive, their family couldn’t function. I found this striking, and I wondered what it would have been like if, as a kid, I had felt completely needed by my family...There were times, I confess, I wondered whether my family would be better off without me. I grew up believing that if I had never been born, things would be easier for the people I loved.
A thought like this can cripple a kid for a long time. This may sound like so much psychobabble, but to me it’s become an obvious truth. If a kid grows up feeling he is burdening the people around him, he is going to operate as though the world doesn’t want him. I didn’t recognize this feeling in myself until the last few years—into my late twenties and early thirties—but it has always been there. Because of this, I notice I pull out of conversations when it gets too personal. And despite the strongest of invitations to connect, I feel, intrinsically, that the other person will eventually be burdened by his or her relationship with me. I find myself doing a great job at small talk, trying to be charming and all, but when it comes time for a person to actually know me, I run for the hills. Any ability I have to be charming also comes from this desire not to be a burden. If I am light and easy to be around, my community won’t want to throw me out, or they won’t meditate at night on what a wonderful world theirs would be if I were not involved…

Deep inside, I believed life was for other people—that joy was for others, and responsibility was for others and so on and so on. In life, there were people who were meant to live and people who were accidentally born, elected to plod the globe as the despised.”

If you could see the world these kids live in, you wouldn’t blame them or have a hard time understanding why they might totally relate to Miller’s words. Plodding around the globe as the despised is something they are quite familiar with.