Today at the school there was a fight between some girls. Six girls to be exact. Three on three. Three on two really with one innocent bystander / witness. I happened to be in the sick bay when 3 of the girls got brought in. One with a pretty good wound on the side of her face. I watch and listened. Wondering if I should get involved. Next they rounded up the 3 attackers and brought them into the office. They were smiling and having a good time. It was hard for me to believe that these girls were capable of what they were being accused of. In fact, I'm not sure I even heard anyone ask them what happened. Guilty until proven innocent. These 3 girls would be suspended. I grabbed their files. Trying to help out in some way. Every student at the school has a file. They include their application and other disciplinary information. I began to look they the files, it was clear 2 of the girls file were very thin (thin is good) and each had one warning for bad behavior. The third girl had a nice thick file (not good) and had multiple warnings for bad behavior and had been suspended once already this year. She was in grade nine. The other two were grade 8's. I wanted to talk to them. Warn them of the likes of this third girl. I spoke with them individually. Neither of them tried to cover up their actions. I hit so and so. I smacked so and so. Why did this happen? Something that was said a few months ago that neither girl could actually confirm was ever said. The classic she said she said. I encouraged both of them of being very careful with who the choose for friends and also about alternative options when they are angry. I didn't want to talk to the third girl. I had already passed judgment and written her off. In order to be equal, I met with her. Her story was the same. I kicked so and so in the face because of something she said. She was not sorry, but did agree that maybe her anger got the best of her.
I wanted to meet with the other girls. Again, one at a time I asked their stories. Both agreed they were sitting doing nothing when they were attacked. Neither of them knew anything about say something about the girls on a local social media website which is what had been the reason for the fight according to the others.
The second girl sat down and immediately began to cry. She didn't know why any of this was happening. She was done. Didn't want to come back to this school. She had to many problems at home and couldn't deal with any more. I dug a little deeper. A drunk mom that hard threatened to kill her in the past. She know lived with an auntie. Didn't know who her father was. She had attempted suicide 5 times. Starting in grade 5. Five times in four years. It was hard not to cry. Not to want to jump out of my seat and hug her. Tell her how much she was loved by the father. The scars on her wrist, some almost hard to even see told me these were cries for help. Cries for someone to reach out to her. I told her that I cared. I cared about her, her thoughts and feelings and that my door was always open. We talked about church and her faith journey. The lady I was already thinking of referring her to for counseling went to the same church as her. She knew her and I told her I would be speaking to her about what was happening. I called in the secretary/nurse/this place would fall apart if she wasn't here lady. She could give a hug. She could hold her hand and tell her it was going to be OK. Her door was also open anytime. She is a wonderful Muslim lady, but spoke to this young lady about God in such a way you would not have believed she was Muslim. That was a very cool thing to watch.
Sometimes, especially working in a township high school, you never know what your day will look like. Never quite sure of who is going to come across your path. Just remember everyone has a back story and all of that plays into who they are and what they are doing today.
I have been reminded of the stories in Luke 15 a lot lately. Searching for the lost coin, the lost sheep and the story of the prodical (lost) son. Sometimes we may have to dig, sometimes its hard work, maybe even a bit uncomfortable. But its worth it, keep digging, fighting, and searching for that needle in the haystack.
"This brother of yours was dead, and he’s alive! He was lost, and he’s found!"
Shelby
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