By Lauren Baum, in her senior English class at Westminster Christian Academy, St. Louis (Class of 2011).
Without any hesitation, he said, "I'd be better off dead." Hearing those words come out of my best friend's mouth tore my heart apart. He has repeated that phrase more than once, and my mind continually plays it over like a voice recording.
I met my best friend about three years ago. After knowing me for six months, he told me about his struggles with depression. Sadness was not the only emotion that came over me; I was shocked. He seemed so outgoing and happy all the time. I soon learned that he was physically and emotionally abused as a young child, prompting him to bottle up suicidal thoughts. I cannot begin to imagine the physical pain he has suffered during his lifetime.
He refuses to talk to others about his depression because he now distrusts adults, especially those in his family. Nevertheless, he feels as if I understand him and that I know the right words to speak. Consequently, when it comes to helping him, convenience is not in my vocabulary. It does not matter where I am or what I am doing, for he takes priority. Sometimes he just needs the assurance of my voice telling him that everything is going to be okay and that I will not let him down.
Many students at his school mock him when they notice the scars on his arms from cutting. As he sees it, other kids have every right to tease him and to look down on him. But no one holds such a right, so I encourage him to ignore the heartless kids who treat him less than human. When he feels the weight of judging eyes or hateful voices, I always remind him that I care about him unconditionally. Just hearing me say I will always be his best friend seems to give him the security he needs to keep on going.
My best friend once told me that if he had not had me, he would not be alive. He said that my encouraging words convinced him not to take his life. I never took a bullet or rescued him from a burning fire, but, in his eyes, I saved his life. Our friendship has taught me that no matter the situation, a single kind word can impact someone's life. With the fragility of life as it is, I believe in the necessity of encouragement.
Kids want to be known, and not just by their parents (their #1 source of value). They want their teachers, coaches, scout leaders, and neighbors to know their names, their interests, and their talents. Granted, some kids seem to want to be left alone, but even the shy ones deeply desire to be known by others on some level. It's ingrained in all of us. Nobody likes to called by the wrong name (sibling confusion is common). Nobody enjoys being overlooked by the cool coach who loves to talk with the cool kids on the team. And when it's halfway through the year and the teacher still can't remember your name, it hurts.
Some adults are natural-born kid-lovers. They just know exactly how to talk to kids and make them laugh. Somehow they get away with teasing them to no end, or the kids just flock to them because they feel safe and loved with them. They make great youth leaders, mentors, and assistant coaches. However, it's not so easy for most adults to connect with kids, especially if they don't think they have anything in common with them.
Fortunately, it's not rocket surgery. So, here are some easy conversation starters. First and foremost, always call a kid by name every time you see him or her. If you can't remember his or her name, then find out (to avoid the same problem next time).
How's it going today? What's up this morning / afternoon / evening?
What did you do this last weekend? What was the best / worst part of it?
What are you doing this next weekend? Anything fun or unusual?
What sport are you playing this season? How's that going? What position do you play? What team? Who is on that team that I might know? Who's your coach? Where do you play? Does your teams travel? Is it your favorite sport? Do you think you'll play that in high school?
Here are some of the big questions kids (10-14) have, although they will rarely, if ever, vocalize them. Understanding the questions is half the battle; having all the answers is not necessary, even if it were possible.
Who are my real friends? Who really likes me? In which group do I belong?
Who am I? How am I like and different from others my age?
What will I do with my life? Will I be important?
What sort of career and family will I have?
What will I look and act like when I am a grown up?