Resiliency is a fascinating topic. Why is it that some people overcome hard starts and some don't? Siblings are often raised with the same challenges, in the same environment; one grows to be a happy, productive adult, and one remains trapped in adolescent cycles of behaviour. Why do some people become chronic victims while others cultivate strength and compassion?
The literature I have read suggests that the most significant factor in the equation of resiliency is a consistent, caring adult in the life of an at-risk youth; a parent, a grandparent, a friend, a teacher, a social worker . . . it doesn't matter where in the child's life they fit. It only matters that they show unwavering support and are always there. While this makes perfect sense, it does not explain the people I have come across in my life who are true grown-ups, who have overcome rather than outrun the pain and trauma of their childhoods . . . and who did not have a consistent and caring adult in their life. They may have had some supportive people in their lives at different stops along the way, but the consistency was not a reality for them.
These people get me to wondering about the inherent qualities of resiliency. It seems clear to me, that some people have inside of them the necessary resources to overcome disadvantage. But what are those resources?
When I worked at the Regional Support Centre in Selkirk, Manitoba, a school for children with social/emotional and behavioural difficulties, there were children who were facing adversity in every area of their lives. Their ability to simply show up day after day was amazing to me. They did not seem to formulate a plan to carry on, they just did. We all have the basic instinct to survive, and to keep moving forward in whatever path we are currently on. For those kids, that was to get up, get dressed, and get to school. And for the most part, that is what they did. They often got themselves up in the morning, many of them fed themselves (and perhaps a sibling or two as well), they got themselves out the door. So when they arrived hungry or late or both, when they didn't smell very nice because they had put on the same clothes for the fourth day in a row, how we responded to them was important. Did they feel welcome? I hope they did.
I may never unearth the missing ingredients in the recipe for resiliency, but I think that it is a fragile thing. And many children who start out with that little pocket of courage or hope or humour or compassion . . . or whatever it is, have it beaten out of them by the judgement of an unaware response. When we want to "help" a kid fit in socially by offering advice about hygiene, are we helping, or are we pricking that little pocket of hope that they can fit in as they are. When we correct "misguided morals" about stealing or lying, do we know enough about the reason for the behaviour? Or have we simply told a survivor they are bad?
Whatever circumstance is thrown at a child, they will have a way to survive it, built in. I have to believe this for my own sanity. Our job, as helping adults is one of two roles: be the consistent, caring adult in a child's life for as long as you possibly can, or, at the very least, tread carefully into addressing negative behaviours because you may not fully understand their origin. I'm not suggesting that ineffective or harmful behaviour should not be addressed, but mind the landscape as you go.
By all means, gently confont the child who steals or lies or manipulates. Who cheats and fakes and fights. But, please, watch where you step. There could be some precious bubbles of resiliency there.
Monica is the author of "Thanks for chucking that at the wall instead of me."
