For the last three weeks I have been implementing and teaching an arts enrichment program as part of a Federal grant- an extended learning program for middle school students in the city of Providence.  Most- all of these kids are having to attend summer school-for a variety of reasons.  Most-all of the kids have some kind of behavioral issue-never mind the cultural or socioeconomic issues at play.  My portion of the day is all about arts.  Performing arts.  It is a tough group.  There are no hidden agendas with these kids.  You know in an instant how they feel.  Impulse control is not a strong suit.  I have been paired with a street wise, incredibly talented hip-hop teacher-who prefers to go by his initials and not his name.  At first, I thought perhaps there had been a mistake-but no, we were, as a pair assigned to navigate the troubled waters of these troubled adolescents.  The first day- only three of the 20 showed. Two of them were teen girls-best friends.  They were inseparable with attitude and their tag team routine could be pretty intense.  One in particular was down right proud of why she was there( behavior) and what she had done( behavior) and things she had said to a whole line of teachers.  One minute she was charming and sweet and the next- she was “all up in my grill”.  Not that this is unlike many adolescents, but her in my grill was a bit different than any other 14 year old in my grill. Her words and eyes cut like a knife.  Granted, this is not new to me.  I have been working with girls like this for a long time.  It is the cornerstone of what I do.  I know the arts have a way of transforming certain kids-I knew this would work for her too.  For underneath her cutting eyes was a glimmer of something.  Some thing that needed a nudge of encouragement-even if we had to go head to head-or rather, grill to grill to get there.

She would do the theater exercises, complaining the whole time-but then, once in a while smiling at what she had accomplished. Slowly she began to branch out and work with other students. Even if her friend would not.  She would be loud and distracting and then after being asked to stop- she would.  She would do the writing prompts-at first not wanting to:  “I hate to write- what is this?” (eye roll) “school?” ( eye roll)

#1.  If there were no time or money constraints- what would you do? What is your creative vision?

I wood be famos. And I wood be a dancer and be on tv.

 Whatever was working was working.  Little small shifts.  Me hoping the shifts would turn into new ways of seeing what could be. New language for old ways.  Her not even aware there was any other way.

And then today:  Pouring rain is usually an indication we will have fewer in class.  But she, my grill girl was right there.  She has never missed a class.  Not one.   Gone was the overly provocative clothing and effort was made to look more pulled together.  Grill girl gone good.  And prior to class-with chaos from lunch still looming-and kids getting to where they needed to be-my girl pulls a bag from her backpack and brings forth a batch of brownies she made the night before.  They were for the class. 

“if you guys don’t like them it ain’t my problem-but here”…..and she was off, just like that, back of the room,ready for class.

Grill girl good real good.

I had the first brownie.