True words are not charming...

And charming words, are not true.

The first time I heard this line from a quote was from a eulogy at the funeral of a 17-year-old who had died by suicide. The young man had been a participant at a program I worked for just a few months before his death, and was seen a real leader within his crew. His death spotlighted the epitome of how those who are struggling the most may be the ones who appear the most put-together. Or they may be the ones who go to great lengths to hide their pain. For those of us around them, we may not see the pain in it’s entirety.

That funeral was excruciating. The pain in the room was visceral and there were so many people who showed up that there were hundreds of people standing outside the funeral, just waiting to get in. There was not a dry eye anywhere. The family was completely shattered, and rightfully so. Suicide consistently has that affect.

It was after that day that I hung up my hat in working with adolescents. I blamed the bureaucratic tape that represents the “ask for permission, not forgiveness” mantra, as the reason why my colleagues felt their hands were tied. Even though we had been warned that he was struggling, it was recommended to leave it up to other folks in his life to reach out. It was out of our purview.

With that experience, I never hesitate to reach out directly and indirectly to my clients. I work with young adults because I want to ensure their safety and if that means they get pissed at me temporarily, so be it. I’ve been known to fill out inquiries for Students of Concern on college campuses. If you don’t think I wouldn’t do that, or haven’t, you clearly don’t know how assertive I can be when it comes to a young adults’ well-being. In working with young adults, I don’t have to wait for parent permission to reach out, or to speak out. I’d just rather ask for forgiveness any day, than lose another life because of the formality of asking for permission.

My experience is a true story. It is a harrowing one. My disinterest in working with adolescents in not charming. The youngest client I’ll take is 17 1/2 and I am very selective with that specific-aged client. If you ever believe you’re overhearing me serenade anyone around the notion of working with adolescents, it would not be true. I’d like to live and work in my truth, regardless of how charming or not charming it appears to be.

For questions or comments contact Joanna.