On Thanksgiving, Alessandra Longo takes a moment to reflect on her work
When I think about the things for which I’m thankful, one thing that immediately comes to mind is how thankful I am for the fulfilling work that I love.
What follows exemplifies why I find my work with MST families so rewarding.
I received a phone call in late December several years ago from a mother I’d been working with for a few months. "Hey," she said, somewhat distracted. I could hear pots clanking in the background and her toddler babbling. "I just wanted you to know Matthew loved that thing you gave him for Christmas."
"Oh, really?" I responded.
I had labored over what to give a 13-year-old boy with a long criminal record. Everything I picked up felt too juvenile, too uncomplicated to hold his interest. It took a gentle reminder from my husband to decide on a purchase. "Didn’t you say you were buying a gift for a child?" he asked.
We left the store with a party-size bag of M&Ms and a desktop candy dispenser. "Yes," Matthew’s mother answered. "He and his sister played with the toy all afternoon, ate the entire bag of candy and got a stomachache."
This made me smile. I liked the idea of the young teenager, who threw gang signs in my face and cursed a lot, gorging on candy with his kid sister. "Thanks for telling me. I really appreciate that," I said before hanging up.
Don’t forget—they are children, not statistics
Sometimes, it’s hard to remember the children we work with are exactly that—children. My position as an MST therapist has offered me a unique view of the teenagers broadly painted as "delinquents," "truants" or any multitude of one-dimensional adjectives. Working closely with the caregivers of these children often reveals a rich backstory. I’ve had the opportunity to meet many parents doing the absolute best they can, and a common theme, for both caregivers and their children, is having had to grow up too fast in order to survive certain circumstances. Given this information, it is easy to understand why so many of our children don’t seem like children, at all.
I’m thankful for the families who give me a glimpse into their lives and their homes and share their stories with me. It feels important to then share these stories with those who may not get the chance to stand in the bedroom of a child with a lengthy rap sheet and notice they’re still fond of Pokémon or need a stuffed animal to fall asleep. It’s tempting to read ever-rising statistics of young Latino and African-American youth being incarcerated, shake your head, wonder what is going wrong in certain communities and turn the page. It’s equally tempting to imagine that in my position I have all the answers. I’ve come to realize that the only way to begin to affect change is to partner with the families I work with to give name and character to these same statistics.
To learn more about how MST can have a positive impact on juveniles and their families, download this white paper.
