Written by Carl Cook
As a 21 year old college student, unmarried (but engaged to an awesome CASE worker herself!), and the youngest in my family, caring for middle-school students at CASE is far from something that comes naturally for me. I’m not a professional teacher either, so sometimes I wonder what I can offer to students in the program.
Sure, I can offer my nerdiness and help them with their homework (I love Math, History, Technology, Language Arts… I’m just a nerd), my silliness, and my care for them, but is that enough? What can I offer them that will truly help them develop and mature as human beings? In thinking about these questions for some time, I've determined that the most important thing that I can offer is grace. I’ll explain.
One winter when I was around 12 or 13, my dad restored a car for a friend. It was a mess: no wheels, no interior, every panel was crooked, and the car was, as my dad would describe it, “a rust bucket.” He took every minute of his free time that winter restoring that car. He was always welding, sanding, hammering, and straightening every crooked panel. It seemed like a waste of time quite honestly, but as spring approached, the car looked like it was rolling down the assembly line at the original factory; unfinished, a dull grey color, but just on the verge of being beautiful.
I would come home after school and see the progress on it and ask if I could help. He usually didn’t need my help, and I would just watch. I wanted to help so desperately. One weekend though, he told me he had a big job for me. He wanted me to help with wet sanding, the very last step before the shiny metallic paint was to go on. He instructed me on what it does, the technique, and then watched me try it a few times, gave me feedback, and watched again. Eventually, he gave me my own water bucket, some sand paper, and told me to get started. He rolled his chair over to the other side of the car and started the same process himself.
I had never felt so important, and I never worked harder in my life. He would ask me from the other side, “How’s it going over there?” and I would confidently respond that it was going great. I made my way along and eventually my dad came over to check my work. He looked sick. I had sanded through too many layers. He stood there for a second, took a deep breath, laughed a bit, and said, “Son, you messed up pretty big.” I immediately felt terrible, but he insisted that I keep going. He watched me the whole time, coached me along, and told me at the end that he was proud that I kept going and kept learning. He told me afterward that he probably should’ve watched me a little closer, but that he wasn’t upset with me, and that trying things is the only way you’ll ever learn. That was the first of countless cars that I would help my dad wet sand over the years. To this day he will still tell people I’m the best wet sander he’s ever worked with. That was grace in action.
When I don't know what to offer CASE students, I know I can offer grace. When they struggle to learn a skill, or retry the same math problem again and again, or lose their temper during an activity, I choose to give them another chance. I tell them that trying is the only way they will ever learn, and that I’m not mad at them for that.
CASE is a program of the Nashville After Zone Alliance. The Nashville After Zone Alliance is a network of coordinated after school programming for Metro’s middle-school students. NAZA is a partnership among the Nashville Public Library, MNPS, and other existing youth-serving groups. It is modeled on successful efforts in other cities and is organized around geographically-defined zones.
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