the power of i love you

To be able to say "I Love You" to a kid shortly after he has cussed at you, spit in your face, assaulted you, kicked you and scratched you is a powerful thing.

It has been really hard at work lately. I have lots of new boys and they all have come with burdens that no kid should ever have to carry. All manifested in aggression, provocation, assault, AWOLing.....the list goes on. Sometimes it's more than I can even begin to understand. If you have been around me lately and you have asked about work, I'm sure you have heard about how hard it's been and how I would much rather be some where else. My life at Hillview has been quite cyclical with many ups and downs. I had been riding on the up for quite awhile but more recently I have begun going over the crest and now feel the crashing deep in my stomach.

Tonight was rough. One of my boys (who I really enjoy) just could not listen and ended up becoming dangerously assaultive (I'm hoping I won't have bruises) and Becky and I had to take him outside where he was put in a restraint. In the midst of the struggle were many "fuck you" 's and spit thrown with hateful precision. In the end, he calmed down and sat on the porch refusing to be near me. As much as he hated me at that moment I truely desired for him to know that I wasn't upset (which is a miracle in itself).

"Please know I'm not mad at you and I love you." I say.

"Shut the fuck up!" is what I get in reply, and he begins to cry. In the intensity of his hatred, I think my words pierced.

Shortly after he was back inside laying in bed drained from the physical and emotional events. I reach over and wrap my arms around him and say again, "I love you." I stand up and begin walking out of his room pausing at his doorway just in time to hear, "I love you too."

Maybe it's the power in these moments that get me through the stomach churning descents and provide enough hope to last until I hear the clanking of the chains pulling my cart back up.