There’s nothing quite like fear of the unknown. For some people, maybe it’s venturing out onto a hiking path in a mountain range you’ve never explored. For others, maybe it’s driving to a new destination on a highway you rarely travel. For others still, like babies, maybe it’s as simple as trying peas or green beans. There is even evidence that fear of the unknown can be biological. Regardless of how we’ve experienced this phenomenon, though, the reality is, we probably have. 

I wouldn’t consider myself to be scared of much — I wouldn’t even say that I was scared to start my internship or scared to interact with the kids at SVFS. But, I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to design effective activities or speak to the kids, really speak to them, and say, “I got your back, and I want to help you.” Why? Because it was totally unknown. I had never worked with kids that span such a broad age range, kids that had experienced this level of trauma, or kids that have such severe emotional, social, or behavioral challenges. I had no experience. Yet, here I was, standing in front of a wall that seemed a million miles high and, quite frankly, a little daunting. But Theodore Roosevelt’s words of encouragement rang in my head: “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds . . . and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.” So, I continued on. 

I figured the first thing I’d need to do was talk to the people I was really there for — the kids. I started in Kindergarten, and to my surprise, after I sat down in the “Adult Chair” in the back of the room, I heard a small voice saying “Ms. Sarah, can I have a hug?” At this moment, my fears began to melt away. I had similar experiences in other classrooms. In third grade, I helped some of the students make their father’s day activity, and they shared with me stories about strong male figures in their life, whether it was their father, grandfather, uncle, or counselor. When I came back to the same classroom the next day, I heard shouts of “Is that Ms. Sarah?” from the hallway, and as I entered the room, more shouts of “Oh my gosh! Ms. Sarah’s back!”, and I felt even more comfortable and at ease. I got a lot of hugs, colored a lot of pictures, and felt a whole lot of love that day. 

As I spent more time with the kids though, I began to notice how casually they spoke about tragedy they had experienced or watched others experience. In the short time I spent in each classroom, I heard students talk about parents who had died, aunts or uncles who were spending time in jail, or even that they felt unloved at home. And they talked so openly. But it wasn’t unknown to them, so they weren’t scared to. In fact, these circumstances are extremely common in the communities that the children come from. It was heartbreaking to hear, but motivated me to continue. 

In addition to spending time in the classrooms, I also began brainstorming activities. I created a list of qualities that I wanted to foster, such as communication, self-confidence, or team building, and started to research activities that fell within these categories. After meeting with some staff, I also learned that in previous summers, SVFS has had vendors from the community come into the facility and teach kids about various topics, such as Local Matters, an organization that helps kids learn how to garden. However, I also learned that SVFS did not have materials for vendors that informed them about the population of children they’d be serving. So, I created a handout that has basic statistics about the organization and the children, why they might exhibit some of the behaviors they do, and some frequently asked questions about the best ways to interact with and care for the kids. 

I came into this week staring at the million-mile-high wall in front of me, with no ideas about how I was going to conquer it. But, I’ve learned this week that the best way to do that is just start. I spent time with the kids in the classroom, and from that I gained a heap of knowledge about what trauma they had experienced, but also how resilient they can be. I spent time meeting with staff, and from that I learned what skills children were lacking, but also of the incredible impact that SVFS has on children. It may be unknown for now, but brick by brick, that wall is coming down, and soon, it won’t be.