Oprah Comes To Glendale

For the last few weeks, I’ve written about the Glendale Boys’ support group. What about the Glendale girls? 

As they reached middle school, the girls were just as at-risk as the boys. They, too, needed a support group. The reading teacher, who had known the girls in elementary school, saw the need, stepped in and ran a weekly meeting for them at the community center. This time, I was just an observer.

The Girls Group was,  obviously, different from the Boys Group. For one thing, it was more peaceful. Instead of arguing and fighting, the girls talked, played music and danced. Instead of grabbing whatever we brought to eat, the girls cooked. They were definitely more well-behaved on field trips. 

The goals for both groups were the same: Stay in school and out of trouble. Both groups challenged themselves to do things they thought were impossible. Both groups made a commitment not to have children before they were ready. I hope they kept that promise. I hope they are all doing well.

My favorite Girls Group activity was a game they created called Talk Show. It was modeled after their favorite after-school activity ~ watching Oprah on TV.

At the end of every Girls Group meeting, the leader would say, “We have thirty minutes left. What should we do?”

“Let’s play Talk Show!’ they would shout. Hands went up, eager to volunteer.

April, a beautiful, articulate girl, who had a lot of experience watching talk shows because she often skipped school would almost always be Oprah. Lady was always one of the experts because, as everyone agreed, Lady was an expert on almost everything. 

Liz, a shy girl without many friends, preferred to be a guest. The remaining girls volunteered to be additional guests or experts, depending on how many girls were available. And the show was ready to start.

Chairs were set up in the meeting room. Experts lined up in front, guests seated in back. Oprah would emerge from the hallway, holding her hairbrush like a microphone. The audience would stand, clapping and cheering enthusiastically.

One Talk Show episode still makes me laugh:

Oprah looks over the audience and announces: “Today’s show is about How To Tell If A Boy Really Likes You.” Everyone cheers.

Oprah: “Let’s get started. Liz, do you think it is hard to know if a boy likes you?”

Liz pretends to cry. She sniffles and blows her nose before starting to talk. “I just think nobody would ever like me because I am so shy. If a boy liked me, I’m sure I wouldn’t know it.”

Oprah: “We have to trust our instincts.” The leader and I look at each other, wondering if these girls have any idea what Oprah is talking about. Then she adds “And be true to yourself.” 

Oprah says it is time for a commercial so she can confer with Lady, who has written a book that will be a best seller soon. 

When the action resumes, Lady holds up an old dictionary with the corners torn off. “It’s all right here in this book I just wrote. My book is called, Boys Say And Do The Dumbest Things. Especially When They Like You.” 

By this time, the girls are laughing so hard they can hardly breathe. Oprah tells the hairbrush it is time for another commercial so the audience can pull themselves back together.

“The main thing to remember,” says Lady when the group has her attention again, “is that boys don’t usually have a clue about what to say. So if they say anything at all, it is probably because they like you.”

Then Oprah says, “Lady, I never thought of it like that before. This is really a Light-Bulb. An Ah-Ha Moment for us.” The girls dutifully nod their heads and then roll their eyes.

“You know, I love surprising people and making them happy,” Oprah continues. “So I want everyone to know that you are getting a free copy of Lady’s book to take home with you today.”

The audience claps wildly and files out the door. They can’t wait for next week. 

D.C. or Bust!

I don’t remember how it started. Probably with one of my you-can-do-anything speeches, meant to cajole the Glendale Boys into doing homework. Probably when the boys showed up at our weekly meeting, furious with the news of  a school-sponsored trip to Washington, D.C. The school trip, three days in Washington, cost $1200.00 ~ more money than these boys could even imagine.

We were aghast. Three days in Washington, D.C. for $1200.00? Ridiculous! We could do better.

Only Washington, D.C.? What about Cape Cod? Boston?

Instead of three days, how about nine days?

How about a tour of East Coast colleges thrown in for good measure? Julie told us she was moving back to Connecticut, so part of the trip was to designed to re-connect with Julie.

What were we thinking?

Overall, the trip was wonderful, exhausting, gratifying and just plain horrible ~ depending on the moment. 

The total out-of-pocket expenses for our trip, including airfare, was $545.00/person. United Airlines discounted $3300.00 from our ticket prices. We sold hot dogs in front of Cub Foods for weeks, to raise money. We solicited donations from the City of Glendale, Cherry Creek High School, and West Middle School. Target gave us cameras, notebooks and pens. Each family chipped in $50.00. It began to look like this was really going to happen.

Oh, my …what were we in for?

Rather than summarizing  the entire trip, one grueling day at a time, I will try to briefly hit the high (and low) points for you.

Certainly the best part was traveling to cities I’d never been to and watching the boys experience those things they never thought they would: flying in an airplane, eating all-you-can-eat dry cereal from dispensers in a university cafeteria, going out so far in the ocean on a boat we could no longer see land, watching momma and baby whales swim together just a few feet from our boat, laughing at a sea lion playing in the waves, visiting the Smithsonian museums, finding our way around the subway systems in Washington and Boston and, best of all, seeing our friend, Julie, again and meeting her parents.

Among the most difficult? Having one of the boys steal $45.00 from another. Sitting outside the  boys’ cabin at the youth hostel in Eastham, Massachusetts from 2:00-3:00 a.m. to keep them from charging a group of gorgeous girls who were staying two cabins down. Having only cold water in the showers in the Howard University dormitory where we stayed for four days. Dealing with boys who would not go to sleep at a reasonable hour and then were so tired they couldn’t keep up us the next day.

My proudest moments came often, as people stopped us to ask, “Who are these boys? Are they are sports team?” When we said they were at-risk, inner-city boys from Denver, the response was consistently, “These are some of the finest boys we’ve ever met. They are so polite, and helpful and friendly.”

The most rewarding moments came when I thought we really made an impact: marching the boys past yet another East Coast college. Teaching them how to learn something in a museum. Having long discussions about tolerance. Acknowledging together the best and worst parts of each day before we said good-night.

And my most lasting memories? Going to wake up the boys the first morning and finding five of them asleep ~ head-to-toe-to-head-to-toe-to head ~ in one dorm room. They pushed two beds together because the room was ‘too big and too lonely” for just two people. Hearing them argue constantly and realizing that they never let their bickering get out of hand or interfere with their friendship. And mainly, watching them change from little boy/puppy behavior to acting grown up and responsible.

I came back from the trip bone-tired, foot-sore and energy- depleted, swearing “I’ll never do that again.” And I never did. Some of life’s best moments only come around once.

Courage

“I know it sounds cheesy, but I’d sorta like to be a hero,” confided Leroy as we talked about our hopes and fears for the upcoming trip to Snow Mountain Ranch.

That’s nice, I thought. I’d just like to survive with my faculties intact.

I agreed to go on this camping trip with my friends, Julie and Marcie, and six high-risk boys from the Glendale neighborhood. All the boys were smart, resourceful and outgoing. They were also rebellious and basically unmotivated.  But, most of all, they were endearing. 

To summarize four days into a few short paragraph, the camping trip was a lesson in courage. For four days and three nights we hiked trails and climbed cliffs. We rode horses, a white-water raft, and an alpine slide. We swam and roller-skated and told ghost stories around the campfire. We encountered problems and we solved them. We laughed a lot and did push-ups when we cussed.

Because we ALL agreed to challenge ourselves, I rode a horse (a very TALL horse) in cold, rainy weather over a treacherous, slippery trail for an hour while monitoring my breathing every second of the way.

So, I learned about courage by being courageous. I learned much more about courage, however, by watching the boys conquer activities they firmly believed were impossible for them.

Marquis jumped off a five foot cliff, into an icy river, ever though he is very afraid of water. B.J., who was terrified of heights, climbed to the top of a fifty-foot lodge-pole pine. Jonathon occasionally discarded his armor of bravado, stopped fantasizing about greed and violence, and talked honestly about missing his mother. Ben, who stubbornly believed that he is important only when he was in control, finally agreed to do what he was told.

And my most vivid memory? The one that come to mind whenever I shut my eyes and remember those four days, is Leroy, inching along the challenge course, fifty feet in the air, in the rain. It took him an hour to finish the course because his legs trembled violently with every step he took.

Leroy had never been able to balance his six-foot, skinny frame on a beam flat on the ground. And yet, he found the courage to successfully navigate walking on a wire, high in the air, one shaky step at a time.

Leroy got his wish. He was a hero.