His lips
were pulled back in a snarl that would terrify a shark and his teeth were
clinched so tight not even air could get through them. If it had been a
cartoon, red fire would have been shooting out of his ears, but in real life,
the deep crimson flush permeating his cheeks and forehead sent the message just
as clearly. This kid was about to blow.
Except he
didn’t. He bent in the middle, grabbed a handful of his pant legs with each
hand and made a sound that started as a furious grunt and ended like woeful
sigh. He had tried to kick a homerun, but instead, he was out. The spectators
held their breath. The boy, Rod, turned and walked back to home plate.
Everyone
burst into applause. “Way to go, Rod! Awesome job, Rod!” It may not sound like
a big victory, but Rod had performed like an all-star that day. He was
practicing getting out.
Practicing
getting out? Absolutely. At Gillis, most
of the children we serve have experienced horrible traumas, sometimes day after
day. Some of these childhoods feature
long lists of violent acts stacked on verbal abuse cradled in extreme
deprivation. One of the major effects of serious childhood trauma is a lack of
resiliency.
For most
children failure or terror or pain are all exceptions in the course of a normal
day, not constants. A normal toddler bonks his head or gets scared once a day
maybe, but his parents soothe him immediately. They help him return to normal
as quickly as possible. Eventually, a normal child learns to handle these
experiences on their own. They know that pain and terror won’t last. They will
be okay. That’s what we call resilience.
For
traumatized children, the terror or pain can last all day, weeks even.
Returning to “normal” doesn’t happen all that often. After a while, fear,
anger, fighting for basic needs or preparation to flee or hide become what is
normal. They never practice soothing. They can’t. They have to be wary at all
times. They never learn the lesson that it will all be okay. For them it seems
like it never will.
So what’s
that have to do with kickball? At Gillis, kickball is another opportunity to
practice resiliency. When children first arrive here, they have a lot of
trouble with failure. Some react with violence. Some curl into a ball and cry.
Almost all are ready to quit a game the first time they make the slightest
mistake. That’s why at Gillis, we practice making outs.
First, the
care workers demonstrate. One kicks the ball back to the pitcher. The pitcher
catches it and throws him out. The kicker says “darn it,” snaps his fingers,
and returns to his team. His team mate says “That’s okay. Good Try.” Then all
the boys practice the pieces. Everyone says “darn it.” They snap their fingers.
Most laugh. Then they all practice saying “That’s okay. Good job.” It seems
easy enough.
But when Rod
tried it with a real ball, kicked it hard only to have it caught in the
outfield and be called out—it wasn’t easy at all. Faced with a real failure, he
nearly reverted to what an early life of child abuse had taught him: anger and
violence. But he didn’t. Instead he handled his anger, accepted being out, kept
it in perspective and showed himself that “it will all be okay.”
And that is
how kickball at Gillis helps to save Rod’s world. Rod, like all of us, will
suffer failures and set backs, accidents, problems and conflicts. Learning the
lesson that even if you make an out, it will eventually be okay is important
for him as he tries again to be successful in foster care, in school and in his
life. Sadly, Rod didn’t get to learn resilience from his mother soothing him as
a baby, but in his therapy sessions and group talks, from the positive adult
role models we provide him, and even on the kickball diamond, he’s learning it
now at Gillis.
Submitted by Thom Fox, Gillis Grants Manager
