When I was in my junior year of college, I landed a job as a Youth Intern working for a youth program that helped mentor and support struggling inner-city youths to stay in school. It was a unique program and I had heard so much good things about it.
The first year of the program was challenging. The program had five different sites. One location had a particularly difficult participant. He was incorrigible and a bully. He was always picking on his peers and our team. He sometimes was distracted when we helped other students do their homework. He even made fun of my accent. It never really bothered me as I knew it was a typical behavior of teenagers.
One evening, we were returning from group event. A few of the mentors were asked to ride the bus with the students back home. I was assigned to the team with this difficult kid. The older kids sat in the back while the younger kids sat in front. After riding a few miles on the bus, some of the younger kids complained that the older kids in the back threw things at them. We initially did not interfere until we heard one of the younger kids screamed for help. I asked the older kids to stop.
I had the support of my colleagues and sat in the middle of the bus. We thought this would reduce the chaos on the bus. While I sat quietly, someone threw a rock at my head. It hit the side of face. I felt this sharp pain as if my head was cut open. I turned my back and all the older kids laughed. They knew who threw the rock. It made me very angry. No mature adult would tolerate this behavior, I thought. I asked “Who threw that rock at me?” They all stared at the troubled kid. Then I asked him, “Did you threw that rock at me?” Without hesitating he said, “If I did, what would you do?” All hell broke lose. I became angry and emotionally charged.
I am ashamed to say this. I walked to the back of the bus with the sole intention of hitting him. Thank God for my colleagues on the bus, who stepped in quickly to deescalate the situation. When I got off the bus, I felt embarrassed and frustrated.
I marched myself into the Director’s office to pour my heart out to her. I shared my frustration about the incident. I felt helpless and wanted to quit. She said, “He comes from a broken home and had a difficult childhood. He is one of our difficult kids.” “I feel bad for him but I am not a fan of his attitude”, I said. As a consolation, the program director offered to move to another site.
Over the next few days, something started to change. After lamenting over the incident and what I could have done differently, I had an idea about how I could re-engage difficult young adults through my own stories and African drumming. Maybe it could help them on their journey. Not only did I become closer to the kids in the program, I myself grew a lot. I continued in the program until I graduated from college. It became the best program of my college years.
Far too often when we are faced with adversity to grow, we react and blame. We blame everything we can. When you stay too long in the blame circle, it’s hard to see new opportunities. As much as this was about a troubled kid, it pushed me to grow in ways I could not have imagined. I had a better experience solely because I shifted my perspective and embraced it as an opportunity to grow.
The lesson from this story is that whatever situation you’re faced with, you can turn things around quickly by shifting your thinking from blaming to finding a solution. Let go of the blame!