"Who do you need us to beat up?" one teen asked another. It was a type of field day at the high school, and there was a small group of youth gathered around a friend in tears. "Yeah, we'll take care of it," another one agreed. The tears continued, silently, while the grieving girl held onto her friend's sleeve. I had been looking for one of the students in the group, who had not returned to her assigned spot after lunch, and found them in their current state. They had filled me in on the offense which had precipitated the emotional responses of everyone involved.
The thing about working with teens is that they have, as my friend Jean says, brains with something akin to Mercedes engines and bicycle brakes, so things can quickly escalate and get out of control. This is not their fault--it's just the biology of brain development. Still, it's a good thing to know. To their credit, those surrounding this grieving girl were offering her their loyalty and support in the way they knew how. Luckily for me, I have relationships with them, so I intervened.
"No one needs to beat anyone up," I said. "Look. Your friend is sad. She's crying. Lots of times, when someone is sad, you can't fix it, no matter how much you want to. The best thing you can do is stay with her and let her know she's not alone." Again to their credit, they seemed to listen and take that in, at least a little bit. We walked back to where they needed to go. I offered kleenex. She kept the box for awhile, a small token of security and understanding in the cruel social existence that only high school can be.
And that's the thing about grief. None of us can fix it. No matter if it's about words that wounded, behavior that was unfair or mean or abusive, abandonment, death, or any loss. Whenever I am privileged enough to be the one someone comes to when they are grieving, I am reminded of a children's book about going on a bear hunt. Like many children's books , there is a repetitive phrase the characters state each time they encounter an obstacle. It goes something like, "Can't go over it. Can't go under it. Can't go around it. Guess we'll have to go through it." Yup. That's the deal with grief. Can't go over it. Can't go under it. Can try to go around it, but it'll catch up with you. Might as well go through it. But don't go alone. Gather all the supportive, nurturing, loving, giving people you know and feel safe with, and ask them to just walk with you. They might look like family or friends or a bunch of goth teens. It doesn't matter, as long as they're just there and not beating anybody up.
Don't forget your kleenex.
Amy Johnson, MSW, is a Professional Life Coach who is passionate about working with children and families. For over 25 years--as a School Social Worker, Parent Educator, Youth Director, Church School volunteer, community volunteer, and parent—Amy has worked diligently to provide parents, teens, and younger youth with tools that will help them flourish and thrive physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Her most recent endeavor is to offer comprehensive sexuality education in her faith community and to work with other faith communities to do the same. Read what she has to say about this exciting project on her website at http://diligentjoy.com .