Deborah is 18 years old. I’ll admit, the first time I met her, I was nervous. She has this big character and can be very domineering. She’s probably about 5’6”, but she stands as if she is ten feet tall. She has this tough girl attitude and I swear her eyes said, “Go ahead, make me.” When Deborah first came in to the Transitional Living Program, she said all she wanted was someone to pay her rent. She didn’t want anyone to “teach” her anything.

Deborah’s case manager told her about our Youth Leadership Team. Deborah knew that part of the leadership training would include team building activities – physical activities, outdoor activities. She said that she would participate, but she wouldn’t promise to get anything out of it. The course was ten weeks long and ended with an overnight camping trip. And I had the privilege of being a part of it.

The trail wasn’t supposed to be as steep and narrow as it turned out to be. Even our super-fit and muscled outdoor guides were breathing hard. I started thinking, “Oh no, the youth are about to pitch a fit.” Already I was trying to think of ways to positively spin the hike, to encourage them forward, to get them to want to make the climb. Every few minutes I would mention that everyone was doing a great job, or “think of how good it will feel when we get to the top,”… my encouragement was always met with nothing more than the sound of labored breathing.

I was in the back of the line, right behind Deborah. The majority of the group was already beginning to pull away from the few of us in the back. And we were getting slower and slower.

Deborah stopped. She looked up the hill where you could just barely make out the outline of legs several switchbacks above us. She put her head down and sighed. I cringed and braced myself for a meltdown. “Here it comes,” I thought. The legs on the slope above us stopped walking. A voice from a hiker ahead shouted down to us, “Are you guys alright down there?”

Deborah had her hands on her knees and was breathing hard. She stood straight, pulling her broad shoulders back. She raised her head and announced up the mountain to the legs above, “YOU GUYS GO AHEAD! I”LL BE ALRIGHT. I REALIZE THAT THIS IS REALLY TOUGH ON ME AND THAT IF I PUSH MYSELF TOO HARD, IT WILL HAVE A NEGATIVE IMPACT ON MY EXPERIENCE. AND THAT COULD HAVE A NEGATIVE IMPACT ON ALL Y’ALLS EXPERIENCE. I DON’T WANT TO HAVE A NEGATIVE EXPERIENCE. SO I THINK I’LL SIT DOWN AND ENJOY MY SURROUNDINGS AND WAIT FOR YOU TO COME BACK!”

Silence. And then from above came cheers of support and “Go Deborah!” and “You go girl!” Deborah turned and looked at me, she was beaming. I was beaming. As we both stood there out of breath, it was a perfect moment.

This is exactly what we can hope for the youth in our program. That they will challenge themselves in situations that might be unfamiliar or uncomfortable. That they will be self-aware of their needs and their limits. That they will effectively communicate even when times are hard and it might mean doing something different than the rest of the group.

And there I was… making the assumption that we, the staff, were going to have to rally and convince and cheerlead them through. But what Deborah did is evidence of what we at the Transitional Living Program do for our participants everyday. We provide a foundation and an opportunity. We provide the safety so that they can be true to themselves and most of all to take care of themselves. Deborah admitted (with a wry smile) around the campfire that night that she had, in fact, gotten a lot out of the program.

And what it showed me is that she can advocate for herself. And in doing so in that moment, I saw that she can do it in a relationship, with a coworker, in talking to her landlord or to her supervisor. In advocating for herself, she took care of her emotional and physical needs. It’s just that simple. I knew, standing on that trail, that Deborah was going to be alright and that we had done a good job.
 

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