I’m taken by Cyndy’s letter to the judge about to lock up a troubled kid. It’s a short story shining a light on child advocacy, the importance of second chances for youth, and the value of schools and teachers.
From Cyndy,
This is how miracles always work. They fall out of the clear blue sky.
I have a friend who works in mental health in New England schools. We talk only occasionally. For no reason I can think of, I call him Monday morning.
He tells me about his current gig, working with homeless populations in a district in the middle of nowhere. Right as I’m arriving at the podcast recording studio, he tells me about this kid. This wonderful kid. This kid with a mom like my own: broken, narcissistic, telling lies that frame the kid as evil, and herself as victim. He tells me the kid is going to court on Thursday, where a judge will decide if he’s going to be locked up for crimes the mom accused him of.
I know this story in my marrow. If you’re here, you know I was locked up for 16 months as a child because my mother accused me of things I hadn’t done. Because she needed to appear innocent in the face of the evil she had done, and had let be done to me. You also know that, as a result of my shitshow childhood, I became a healer of broken teens.
I can’t stop thinking about this kid. Tuesday night I text my friend: Would it help if I did a coaching session with him, get to know him a little bit, and send a letter to the judge with my take?
Hell yes, he says. Ten o’clock Tuesday night, an email thread is thrumming between him, me, the kid’s principal, and the damn superintendent of the school district. This crowd of caring adults, working way outside of school hours, collaborating to support this one wonderful homeless kid.
I’m not crying. You’re crying.
Wednesday at noon I meet with the kid. Wednesday at one I write this letter to the judge.
Thursday at two I get a text from my friend: He will not be incarcerated! Letters blew judge away! Judge said it’s rare that things like that are said in situations like this about a youth. This is so freaking amazing!
Thursday at two-thirty the superintendent sends an email to all of us: This one will stick with me.
Here’s the letter I sent to the judge. And here’s the point: listen to kids. Especially “bad” kids. Find the good in them. And share it with everyone who will listen.
Dear Honorable Judge,
It is a privilege to write this letter on behalf of [redacted]. My name is Cyndy Etler. I am a master’s degree-holding veteran educator and a dual-certified adolescent life coach; I’ve been working with teenagers for the past 25 years.
Because my own childhood was rife with abuse and neglect, I deeply understand the experiences of struggling teens. I also understand how a caring educational environment can be an inflection point in a child’s life. When I was 17, a [redacted] public school teacher altered my suicide plans, simply by caring about and validating my personhood. The ripple effect of her intervention translates to thousands of youth, all over the world, receiving that same care and validation from me.
In [redacted], I see a male version of myself: others-focused, optimistic, driven, and committed to surviving the slings and arrows that have pierced his short life. I’ll illustrate these traits through examples from our coaching work, which he has consented to my sharing.
I use an assessment tool with teens called the “whole life report card.” It lists various areas of life, and asks kids to rate their contentedness in each, then share why they rated each as they did. I start by going down the list, clarifying any terms that are unclear. When I got to “attitude,” [redacted] asked me to explain it. I gave him an example: another kid who had said, “I have a bad attitude. I called my teacher fat today in front of the class.” I caught [redacted’s] subtle headshake, an automatic expression of disgust at the idea of a kid disrespecting a teacher in that way.
He then asked me to explain what the term “family” meant.
He ranked the following areas of life with 10s, on a scale of zero to 10: school, goals, life purpose, motivation, positive emotions, and hope. In describing why he ranked school at a 10, he said, “At this school, [redacted], it’s smaller classes, so I get individualized support. This helps with my ADHD, so it doesn’t affect anyone else.” In my decades of working with teens, many of whom have ADHD, I have never heard an expression of concern for how one’s ADHD is affecting other kids.
In sharing about “positive emotions,” he said, “I think of what’s in front of me, not what’s behind me. When I get low, I think of the people who love me, the people who keep pushing me through all this. If I think negative, it’s gonna affect all of them. So I stay positive.” He also spoke of how he has always been driven to attend, and be successful in, school. When I asked if it would be detrimental for him to be late for the class after our coaching session, he responded as if he was a teacher’s assistant. “We’re watching a film in there today. I already completed the work, and the poster.”
My point: this is a rare kid who loves learning; who sees how his education is going to usher him into achievement of his goals. Perhaps more importantly, this is a kid for whom this school—the one he’s enrolled in right now—is healing his life. Pulling him from this school would be pulling out his lifeline.
In [redacted], I see a human who has the unflagging drive, positivity, and respect for others that shape a person into a changemaker. Maybe even a healer. What I don’t see is an abuser.
Forgive my bluntness, but I was assaulted, over and over, throughout my childhood. As a result I have developed a sixth sense, a sort of radar for child abusers. I see it in where a person’s eyes go, in how they position their body, in how they use language to shape others’ decisions. I see it in a million small ways. Each time I’ve had suspicions, I’ve learned they were accurate. My unscientific-yet-acute radar gives me a zero percent read on [redacted].
For all of these reasons, I humbly request leniency in his case.
Please don’t hesitate to contact me with any questions.
Respectfully,
Cyndy Etler, MEd, ICF ACC
The Teen Life Coach
With love for you and every homeless kid out there,
Cyndy
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