In The Principal’s Office

I was in fifth grade when I was called to the principal’s office for the first time. I honestly tried to be a good kid most of the time, but here I was, looking across the principal’s very large desk. She was lecturing us, using her very-disappointed-voice. To my left were my two best friends, Craig and Dwight. To my right was Kenny, our nemesis.  

Kenny was the class bully, at least as I saw it. And I was the class smart ass, at least according to Kenny. Thirty minutes earlier, out on the fifth-grade playground, the interaction went like this: 

Kenny: “Stewart, you know what your problem is?!” 

Me: “No, Kenny, why don’t you fill me in?” 

Kenny: “Your problem is you’re a smart ass!” 

Me: “Well, Kenny, I guess I’d rather be a smart ass than a dumb ass.” 

Kenny took a swing at me. I ducked and ran across the playground, laughing. Dwight and Craig stepped in front of Kenny to keep him from catching me.  

Thirty minutes later all four of us were in the principal’s office, listening to her disappointed voice. As she droned on, I thought to myself, “You’re not very good at this. You don’t understand what’s going on here. And you don’t really care about me. You don’t know what I’m dealing with at home.” 

Maybe she knew something about Kenny’s life. His clothes were always dirty. He smelled funny. He was much bigger than the rest of us. I’m guessing he’d been held back at least one year. But she didn’t seem to know that he tried to use his size advantage to intimidate us. And I’m sure she didn’t know that my parents were going through a very messy divorce.  

The principal wanted to give us a stern talking-to. Maybe she thought that would work. But that’s not how human brains work. Lectures don’t transform people. What kids need is connection. We needed an adult who cared, who was ready to listen, and who would love us all the way through the resolution of our conflict.  

And that’s what we try to do at The Bridge. We believe that every kid needs a few safe, caring adults--in addition to Mom and Dad—who will show up consistently in their lives. Kids need dependable adults who will listen to them, love them, and pray for them. They need us because kids are struggling these days.  

Kids like ten-year-old Jada, who spent the summer couch surfing with her family, but now is staying in a foster home, separated from her parents and her siblings.  

Kids like seven-year-old Niall, who sat in the car as his mom called the police on his dad during another domestic dispute.  

Kids like eleven-year-old Michael, who has moved four times this year already.   

At The Bridge we recruit, screen, train, and support Christian mentors who show up every week for kids. Our mentors love them, listen to them, and go home and pray for them - both kids with smart mouths and those who are afraid they might be dumb.  

And those mentors make all the difference. Thank you for helping make that possible.

P.S. My principal got it wrong that day. But, I wonder how it could have been different if Kenny and I had mentors in the school if she would have seen our story a little differently. We love Topeka educators