Bullying

Tale & tool of the day:
Standing up for the underdog
(excerpt from my new book Waltzing with Wolverines: finding connection and cooperation with troubled teens, now available in print)

One of the most supportive things you can do with your power as a leader and role-model with teens, is to stand up for the underdog. If there is a conflict between two kids who are relatively equal in terms of the power they each hold in the group, then you can support them both in getting to their outcomes and finding solutions that meet both of their outcomes. But if one kid is clearly the underdog, with much less power/status, then as the leader of the group (the top dog) you may need to give much more of your power toward supporting the underdog to create an even relationship where both kids can get their needs met. The underdog needs enough support to eventually feel safe in truly expressing his or her needs. I was always sure to demonstrate to underdogs that they had my support more than anyone else in the group.

In the documentary film “Bully” there are lots of examples of this not happing. In one, a teacher tells a victim of bullying to shake hands with the bully (as if this would somehow solve the bullying issue). Understandably, the kid didn’t want to shake hands with his bully, to which the teacher responded by blaming the victim for not being willing to “shake hands and make things right.” Obviously this teacher had no idea how to deal with bullying, and inadvertently sided with the bully—the one with all the power—giving absolutely no support whatsoever to the underdog.

Once I was leading a group of teens on an expedition in the Rocky Mountains and the three “popular” kids in the group started poking fun and laughing at a new boy who had recently joined us. The new boy, Jordy, was socially awkward, with long scraggly hair that often got caught in his mouth. “I think Jordy’s gonna get a hairball soon,” Devon taunted. “Hey, Jordy, have you ever had a hairball?” Jim and Justin called up to where Jordy was hiking. Jordy just shook his head and took it, continuing to hike with his head downcast.

“Everyone stop,” I said. “Everyone group up for a moment please.”

“Justin, Jim, Devon,” I said, waiting until I had each of their eye contact, “I know you guys are just wanting to play around, and I like that, playing around is great. At the same time, if I was Jordy, having just come into a new group and not knowing you guys yet, I wouldn’t like having hairball jokes made about me. Those are the kinds of jokes that are only fun for me when I know I have a solid friendship with someone. So if you guys want to make that kind of joke, I ask that you keep such jokes about the three of you until you have as clear a friendship with Jordy as you have with each other.”

“It was all in good fun,” Justin said. “I think Jordy knows that, don’t you Jordy?”

Jordy looked up and jerked his head in a nod.

“We didn’t mean anything by it,” Devon said.

“Yeah,” Jim added, “We’re all friends here. Jordy, you’re cool with us joking around with you, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jordy said, looking at the ground.

“See, he says he’s cool with it,” Jim said.

Clearly Jordy was in such a weak position, such an underdog, that he didn’t even feel comfortable communicating his reluctance to agree with them. So I wasn’t going to ask him to share his point of view, which was clearly impossible for him at this point. Instead I was going to show him that I would stand up for him in a situation where he couldn’t stand up for himself. I would only invite him to share his point of view later in the expedition once he knew—based on his own experience—that I’d be there for him 100%. But I’d wait to do this until I was pretty sure he felt supported enough to be able to share his experience truthfully.

I looked at Jim, “That’s fine, Jim. I’m still not cool with any joking about Jordy. I’ve led a lot of groups, and my experience is that even when things are meant in good fun, it’s important to develop clear friendships first. Just as you and Devon and Justin have become good friends, supporting each other and helping each other out with packs and setting up tents and stuff, you guys can do that for Jordy too. If the three of you want to joke, fine, I ask that you keep it among the three of you.”

They agreed, but during our lunch break a few hours later, Jim started acting like a cat, imitating the way Jordy licked tuna fish grease off his fingers after the meal. “Jordy, did you have cats for parents?” Devon added. “Were you sent here by cats?”

If I had let this slide, then Jordy would know that I wasn’t really willing to support him when tested, and Jordy’s basic need for social acceptance would not get met. “Time for a Group,” I said. Earlier I had set my boundary around not making jokes about Jordy, and every boundary I set I was prepared to keep, (tool 6, “Never set a boundary you can’t enforce,” page 81) or redefine (tool 3, “Power control battles,” page 64). When we were circled up, I said, “Jim, Devon. It’s important to me that when you make an agreement with me, in this case not joking about Jordy, that you honor that agreement. What do you guys need, so that it will be easy for you to honor the agreement?” Again, I’m framing this in their interests (tool 2, “Frame everything in their interests,” page 62).

“It just slipped out,” Devon said, “sort of how we joke with each other all the time.”

“What do you need so that it won’t slip out in the future?”

“Maybe to just let us joke around and have some fun, and not be so uptight about it.”

“I’m happy to have you joke around about each other, between the three of you. If you’re having trouble coming up with things about the three of you, we could have a group brainstorm about it,” I said with a smile.

“Whatever, if you want to make this awful place even worse!”

“I want to make this group as supportive and positive as possible. In general we have a rule of not making jokes about anyone in the group, but since the three of you guys are such good friends, I’m happy if you want to make jokes just about each other. But if it’s too much of a problem to keep jokes just about the three of you, we can go back to just having no jokes. Would anyone else in the group like to share your experience about this?”

“Yeah,” Another student spoke up. “I think it’s best in general not to joke about each other. Even if it’s meant in good fun, it can be misinterpreted, and get the whole group down and negative. I think the group was the most positive when there weren’t any jokes about anyone.”

After this meeting, things improved, but if they hadn’t, my next step with any kids who still couldn’t control themselves from making jokes about Jordy, would have been to put them on individual solo time away from the group. In that event I would have framed it in their interest like this, “Devon, I’m going to ask you to go on solo to make it really easy for you not to slip up and make accidental jokes about others.” (See also Chapter Three, “The Trip from the Hall of Fame,” for an example of me joining with the underdog in a conflict where one kid physically threatened another.)

When you stand up for the underdog, you are not only supporting the weakest kid, but also being the best possible role model for the kids in the group with the most social power. A positive leader is one who uses his/her social power and status to look out for everyone in the group, and make sure everyone stays safe and provided for, regardless of status and social station (which can and does change over time). A negative leader is one who only rewards and looks out for those in the group in relative proportion to the status those individuals already have. This is a weak leader, barely clinging to power through showing favor and alliance only to the others with the most power. This creates an environment that benefits no one, where anyone is at risk of falling lower in status, and having fewer needs met.

In a group with a positive leader, the individual in the position of lowest status gets their basic needs met just as completely as those in the positions of highest status. Everyone is happier, knowing all will be cared for, and thus the focus of the group can all go toward each member contributing what they can to enriching the group, rather than toward maintaining their position in the pecking order.

Click here to buy Waltzing with Wolverines in print or electronic form.

You can sign up for a coaching session with Mark at www.markandreas.com or call 303-810-9611 for a free 15-minute consult.

Waltzing with Wolverines

Tale of the day:
Working with Troubled Teens

Not many people realize that before I started my private coaching practice in NLP, I worked for two years as a counselor and trip leader for at-risk and troubled youth at a wilderness therapy program in Colorado. During those two years working round-the-clock shifts for three weeks straight, I learned more about human behavior than at any other time in my life. With each new three-week expedition, I never knew what new adventure awaited.

There was the time Toby drank his own pee and pooped in his hands, chasing the other kids around camp with his weapon of mass disruption, then dropping bio-terrorism in favor of threatening to stab me with his tent stakes…. There was the time Christine and Kendra cheeked their meds, crushed them up, and did lines off the toilet seat…. On our drive to New Mexico, Adrian had a temper tantrum and shattered the front windshield of the car…. And there was the expedition when Tom and Ken stole my car key and managed to use it to start the pick-up truck in the middle of the night, escaping to a nearby town where they robbed a ski shop before driving the wrong way down a one-way street only to discover a police car coming the other direction….

These experiences profoundly transformed my understanding of how to work with youth, teaching me vital lessons that I want to share with you, so you can be as impactful as possible with the teens in your life. That’s why I’m pleased to announce the release of my latest e-book, Waltzing with Wolverines: finding connection and cooperation with troubled teens:

Waltzing-with-Wolverines-At-Risk_Troubled_Youth_Leadership_book_By_Mark_Andreas_2.14The book is filled from cover to cover with tools and tales of change—both the stories from my direct experience, and the 48 principles that allowed me not just to survive, but to thrive while working in this non-stop chaotic environment. Most of us have teens in our lives – even if it’s just “the teen within.” So whether you want to just enjoy the stories, or want practical tools to use as a parent, teacher or youth leader, I hope you check out the introduction “The Key to it All,” below.

If you read the book, please let me know what you think was useful, anything confusing, what was funny, etc. Here are a few pre-publication endorsements. All of my readers have given it a strong thumbs up so far!

If you already know you want the book, you can buy “Waltzing with Wolverines” here.

What people are saying about “Waltzing with Wolverines”

In “Waltzing with Wolverines,” Andreas redefines how to build relationship and trust with so-called “troubled” youth.  In these pages, you’ll find a treasure trove of teaching and leadership stories, tools, and techniques. But this book is about much more than a list of behavior management strategies— it’s a clarion call to re-envision our relationship with our young people by creating relationships that are simultaneously more empowering and more effective for instructors and students alike. This is a must read for anyone working in the fields of wilderness therapy and outdoor education.Dr. Jay Roberts, Ph.D., Associate Professor of Education, Earlham College

This book is a wonderful guide, not only for parents of “troubled” or “resistant” kids, but for every parent. If Mark had given only bullet points, like so many other books do, I'd have read and forgotten them by now. Instead, through the memorable stories Mark tells, the lessons are still clear in my mind. I wish I could have read this wise book when our children were younger, but I’ll buy it for them now before they make the same mistakes with our precious grandchildren. —Ben Leichtling, Ph.D. Author of “How to stop bullies in their tracks” and “Bullies Below the Radar.”

Waltzing with Wolverines is a remarkable piece of work. This is a book of practical, nuts-and-bolts wisdom about working with youth on the edge. Anyone who works with young people will find useful ideas and inspiration in these pages. —Mark Gerzon, author of 'Leading through Conflict' (Harvard Business School Press)

If you are a parent, you need to commit the principles and techniques expressed in this book to your heart and mind so that you can remain sane during adolescence. If your child is already a teenager this book will become your and your child's best friend. Using the techniques expressed so eloquently by the author allows you not only to reconcile problems expressed by your children, your spouse, your colleagues but also to reconcile the more frustrating and problematic non-expressed problems, all in a non-confronting manner. This book should be a mainstay of communication programs. —Melissa J. Roth CHt., Ph.D.

Mark doesn’t just discuss theories and philosophies of becoming a master facilitator for “at risk” youth, he models how it works in almost any possible scenario with brilliance, patience and true genius! If you want to become a master leader with teens in any venue, then this book is your bible for how to do it with great  humanness, compassion, humor and brilliance. —Kimberly Kassner, author of, You’re a Genius—And I Can Prove It! and Founder of EmpowerMind

 

Tool of the Day:
The introduction to Waltzing with Wolverines: finding connection and cooperation with troubled teens:

Introduction

Wolverine-paw-print-picture

The Key to it All

After working just over two years as a field instructor for groups of teens in the Monarch Center wilderness therapy program, I walked into my boss’ office to tell him I’d finally decided to move on to the next phase of my career. I don’t know what I expected, but Nick’s response surprised me: “I didn’t think you’d last beyond your first expedition,” the ex Army Ranger exclaimed, shaking my hand with a firm grasp despite missing nearly all of four fingers on his right hand. Then he hugged me.

“You didn’t think I’d last beyond my first expedition?” I asked, taken aback. I admired and respected Nick not only for the way he seamlessly carried out his difficult job of hiring and overseeing field instructors (a responsibility I was glad to never have), but also for his wisdom in working and speaking directly with the kids in our program.

“When I first met you I thought the kids would eat you up,” Nick said. “You seemed so kind and innocent.”

Memories from expedition after expedition flooded through me, reminding me why so many field instructors didn’t last. There was the time Toby drank his own pee and pooped in his hands, chasing the other kids around camp with the weapon of mass disruption, then dropping his bio-terrorism in favor of threatening to stab me with his tent stakes. There was Roger, who snuck in a bottle of Advil and took enough that he started hallucinating, frantically searching through his tent for a non-existent necklace that he eventually “found” but understandably had trouble putting on. There was the expedition when Tom and Ken stole my Subaru key and managed to use it to start the Monarch pick-up truck in the middle of the night, escaping to a nearby town where they robbed a ski shop, outfitting themselves with Billabong clothing before driving the wrong way down a one-way street only to discover a police car coming the other direction. Dawn ran away one night and hitch-hiked all the way to Kentucky. When I took Jordan to get a physical he lied to the doctor, saying he wanted to kill himself, so the hospital refused to give him back to me. On a service project in New Orleans three kids ran off at night and I chased them from bar to bar in the Monarch van (complete with butterfly logo and “Family Healing” painted on the side). And on our drive to New Mexico, Adrian had a temper tantrum and shattered the front windshield of the car.

Even at the very end of my time at Monarch, I never knew what strange adventure awaited. There were the girls who cheeked their meds, crushed them up, and did lines off the office toilet seat. Another group managed to find not only marijuana as we hiked through the Loveland ski area one summer, but also a pipe to smoke it in. Nicholas refused to be a part of Monarch and started walking away down a dirt road that went for miles through the desert (I followed after him in the van, where I could listen to music). Mik pretended to strangle himself with pea cord from his tent. Percy punched a tree and sprained his hand. Abe smuggled in a condom and flashed it to one of the girls (hopefully he’s thought up better pick-up lines since). Four kids teamed up in the creative effort of growing mold on their old orange peels so they could use it to get high. And there was Ben, who went limp like a rag doll, refusing to move or speak at all, but he was considerate enough not to put up resistance when we needed to move him.

These experiences profoundly transformed my understanding of how to work with youth, teaching me vital lessons that I want to share with you, so you can be as impactful as possible with the kids in your life. Of course as I stood there in Nick’s office, I didn’t know that I’d be writing this book. At the time I simply gained a new appreciation for everything I’d learned along the way that helped me not only keep my job, but thrive in it. And of all the crucial tricks and tools that I learned, there was one important lesson that I’ll never forget, because it gave me the key to it all, unlocking my ability to flourish where Nick originally thought I would fail.

It happened when I got into a confrontation with a student while I was leading my second expedition. The confrontation wasn’t life threatening, nor was the conflict itself particularly noteworthy. But the interaction forced me to re-think my behavior and discover the confidence to easily face and out-pace much more difficult conflicts throughout the expeditions to come. What I learned—and soon confirmed through countless other experiences—became the baseline for everything I did with the kids, leading me to modify Monarch’s most fundamental principle of teen leadership to fit my new reality.

The story begins the way many confrontations begin, with something very trivial that suddenly gets blown way out of proportion. It was the beginning of our backpacking expedition, and we had made camp on the side of a hill in a clearing with scattered pine and aspen. I told the students it was time to write their daily reflection paper, which they began to do, all except Jill. She refused.

“Jill, it’s part of the assignment for being out here.”

“I don’t care.”

Uh-oh, I thought, this kid isn’t doing what I tell her to do! I have to assert control… “Alright Jill, you can have your dinner as soon as you finish.” Ha, that should do it, who wants to go hungry?

“OK, I just won’t eat.”

The little brat! That was when I got an anxious feeling in my gut. If I don’t assert control now the whole group will realize their new leader is a pushover. It’ll be mutiny! Here’s my first power-control battle, I realized. Monarch’s most fundamental principle, which they taught to all their field instructors, was, “Never get into a power-control battle, but if you do get into a power control battle, win it.” I had failed the first task of not getting in it, so I resolved to do whatever it took to win the battle.

“If you don’t do the assignment, I’ll take away one of your family overnights,” I told Jill, playing my trump card. After each expedition, any kid that had been good would earn several nights to leave the field and be with their families who had travelled to Georgetown to participate in family therapy before the next expedition. Though most of the kids were in this program because of trouble with their families, they almost invariably preferred to spend time with their families rather than stay camping in the elements. Family overnights meant access to hot showers, restaurant food, candy, music, movies, technology, and all kinds of things the kids valued highly but didn’t get out in the wilderness. Things had to be pretty bad with their families to forgo all of these benefits. During my two years at Monarch I can remember only one kid who opted to stay in the field rather than spend time with his family. To almost every student at Monarch, family overnights were valued higher than anything else.

“Fine, take away my overnight,” Jill said angrily.

Gulp. What now? “If you don’t do your assignment, I’m taking away all your family overnights,” I proclaimed, and I turned around and retreated to my tent, having exhausted my largest round of ammunition.

I felt awful. I was pretty much praying for her to finish the stupid assignment so I wouldn’t have to take away all her family overnights. I really didn’t want to do that to her. I had blown things completely out of proportion, and all because I’d felt trapped into having to assert my authority. I’d been told that if I got into a power control battle, I should win it, and as it turns out, that’s what I did. Jill ended up doing the assignment, and I let her keep her overnights, but still it felt all wrong. What was the point of threatening a kid to obey you? That isn’t therapy, it’s awful.

That got me thinking a lot during my off-shift, and when I came in for my next three-week expedition leading a new group of eight male teens, the first thing my boss said got me thinking even more. “The group’s doing great,” Nick briefed me. “The kids think Tristan is a god; they’ll do anything he says!”

Tristan was one of the male field instructors on the opposite shift. He had a similar style to most of the other male instructors at that time, a strategy of leadership that was basically that of the alpha male: You will do what I say because I’m smarter and stronger than you, and any power struggle you get into with me, you’re going to lose, period. Tristan’s strategy of leadership involved getting into power control battles with the kids, and winning them.

Nick was happy, he slept much better at night knowing that the kids were safe and under control. But there was something about this style of leadership that bothered me, and Nick had summed it up perfectly: “The kids think Tristan is a god.”

Short term, it worked great, but what about the long term goals? Did we want to teach kids to blindly obey any authority? To follow the strongest and smartest leader regardless of where they were being led? Or did we want to teach them to think for themselves and increasingly make their own choices as they stepped more and more into adulthood?

When I began my third shift with this group of eight boys, I vowed to never get into a power control battle with another kid ever again. I decided I never wanted to have another experience like what I’d had with Jill. So, for myself, I changed Monarch’s teaching on power control battles to this: “Never get in a power-control battle, but if you do get into a power control battle, get back out of it.”

I became very good at never getting into power-control battles, and just as good at noticing when I started to slip into one, so I could slip right back out. I realized that there is no power-control battle unless I agree to take a side opposite from the other person. And why would I ever want to do that? Whenever a kid refused to do what I asked, I learned to restrain from firing a new and heavier round of ammunition, widening the gulf between us. Instead I would join them and get on their side. In fact, I never left their side; that was the whole reason I was there.

If a kid objected to an assignment I gave, I’d express genuine interest in their objection, asking, “Why don’t you want to do the assignment?” Much of the time that simple question would let them know they were heard, and then they’d get on with it. If they did still have an objection, often it was pretty reasonable: “I’m too thirsty, I ran out of water on the hike and didn’t refill at our last stop.” “OK, go refill your water and then do the assignment.” Often the objection would have nothing to do with the assignment at all: “I don’t like where my tent’s set up.” Within reason, I’d do my best to accommodate their needs as long as it also met mine: that the boys and girls tents were separated far enough to meet policy, and any possible trouble-makers were separated or camped close to me.

Other times I’d join the kids a different way, yelling and stamping about in mock horror: “God, what a fucking awful assignment!” I’d say. “I can’t think of a worse way to spend my time. I’d rather die and go to hell than write another one-page check-in. You want a check in, I’ll give you a check in!” Then I’d just return to my tent. They’d comment about how crazy I was, but after my “tantrum,” they’d often find it hard to get back to their original state of defiance, and they’d just do the assignment. Other times I’d exaggerate in the other direction, with a display of over-the-top enthusiasm: “You don’t have to do this assignment,” I’d say, “You get to do this assignment! You are the chosen ones! And what you write down will be passed on from generation to generation, teaching the ways of the student Zachary for seven times seven generations! And those students will have no need for parents, simply graduating from students into field instructors, for they will have the teachings of Zachary!”

Of course sometimes they would still just refuse—to write the assignment, to hike, to do their group chores, whatever. But now when they refused, I never took on their refusal as a reflection on me, and thus never assumed a position where the group might also see it as a reflection on me. This wasn’t about me, it was all about them. If they didn’t do the assignment, I explained that was their choice, and they could work it out with their therapist. Not doing the hike was also a choice they could make, which would mean our group wouldn’t make it to our next camp. Not doing group chores was another choice they could make, which had its own consequences with the group. Often I would completely delete myself from the situation, which immediately eliminated a lot of resistance. When I truly realized that nothing was about me, suddenly everything was easy. I didn’t have to prove anything. I was here to support the kids, not coerce them.

Even with very intense confrontations, I never again experienced a need to enter into a power control battle. It may be difficult to believe, but it’s true—and that’s what much of this book is about. It’s also extremely important to realize that most confrontations never got to the point of great intensity. If I had a lot of stories of huge conflicts and confrontations to share with you, that would be a sign that the methods I used weren’t very effective. I have some stories of major conflicts—I wasn’t perfect—and you can read about how I managed them, but you’ll see that the true proof of the tools I have to offer lies in their ability to set the stage so that conflict is worked through long before things get dangerous or damaging. There’s only so much you can do when you find yourself in the path of an avalanche, but there are endless things you can do to make sure you never put yourself there in the first place.

So here I was, more than two years after I started work at Monarch, standing in my boss’s office having just heard Nick tell me that when he first hired me he didn’t think I’d last beyond my first expedition. Nick shook his head and looked me in the eyes as he said, “I couldn’t have been more wrong about you. When you were out in the field, I always slept well. After you worked a few expeditions, I knew that no matter what crazy shit went down, you’d handle it. I’m gonna miss you, man.”

“I’m gonna miss you too,” I said, deeply touched by Nicks appreciation.

But I was still taken aback. This was the first I’d heard that he initially never thought I’d survive at Monarch. Suddenly a new perspective fell together in my mind. I saw the male instructors that Nick had hired before me—the classic alpha male mountain man type. Then I saw the male leaders Nick had hired after me—softer spoken men about whom I’d initially held similar doubts as to their ability to lead a group of rowdy kids. Had I inadvertently shifted the culture of leadership at Monarch?

Of course the answer to that question really isn’t important. What’s important is that it is possible to lead both gently and firmly. It takes time and dedication to build relationships on an equal level with challenging kids, but if you care enough to do this, you will have influence that is greater than the most fearsome alpha male, and it will be the kind of influence that will continue to guide them throughout their lives, long after you’ve gone.

After implementing the specific, practical tools in this book, you may be surprised to find your group more or less leading themselves, replacing “Lord of the Flies” with a small community showing genuine respect and support for each other. The following pages are filled with story after story from my experience demonstrating exactly how to achieve this kind of success with any kids. Because if it can be done with a bunch of teens who are forced to be in a place they hate, it can be done anywhere, whether on a wilderness trip, in the classroom, or at home with your own children. Whether you are a parent, a teacher, a youth leader, or a human being wanting to connect with and support the teens in your life, may this book offer you an enjoyable roadmap on the journey.

Click here to buy the e-book and get all the stories and the 48 principles.

Working with Youth

I’m finishing up writing an Amazon E-book about the two years I spent working as a trip leader for a wilderness therapy program for at risk youth. The E-book is composed of practical principles I learned or discovered in my time in the field with these teens, and plenty of stories to illustrate how I put the principles to use. Below is one of the stories/principles from the book. I hope you find it valuable with the youth in your life (and the adults too).

You can still join Mark Andreas this Saturday, March 14th, in Boulder Colorado for a 1-day Introduction to NLP Training.

Tale of the day:
If it ain’t fun, you ain’t doin’ it right!

When I started working for the Monarch Center for Family Healing, a wilderness therapy program for at risk youth, I soon discovered that “at risk,” meant teens who were alive, and their parents were worried. The kids were sent to us for many reasons—drugs, sex, anger, lying, breaking the law, gambling, stealing, running away, or sometimes just having neurotic parents. Parents had as many reasons for sending their kids as their kids had for not wanting to come. But basically, parents would send their teens to us when two things happened: their relationship with their son or daughter had deteriorated to a level where they no longer had any meaningful influence with them, and they felt their child was in some kind of danger, whether physical, psychological, or moral.

Once my boss Nick and I showed up at 5am at a teen’s home to wake her up and break the news that we were bringing her into our wilderness therapy program. Nita’s parents were worried that she might run away if they tried to take her themselves, so they requested what some of us unofficially referred to as a “kid-napping.” Nick parked outside the home, a large house in a wealthy suburb, and we got out in the early morning darkness and knocked on the door.

Nita’s parents showed Nick and I downstairs to their daughter’s room, then left us to wake her up. “Hey Nita,” Nick said. She sat up, pushing her dirty blonde hair out of her face. “Hi Nita, I’m Nick, and this is Mark. We’re here to bring you to a wilderness therapy program.”

“Oh no, seriously? Fo real? Yo, this’s gotta be a joke!” She was the whitest kid in the whitest town in Colorado, but she spoke like she was from the ‘hood. Later that day I spent 6 hours getting to know Nita as I drove her to meet up with the rest of the group in the Sand Dunes. She was into hip hop and break-dancing.

“Yo, this ain’t too unexpected,” she said on the drive.

“Well I’ve got a lot of time to answer your questions, so ask away.”

“Fo sho, fo sho,” she said, nodding her head.

Later on around the campfire I made up a rap in her honor, from one white brotha’ to his white sista.’ Between verses I beat-boxed catastrophically, and during verses I played some percussive chords on my co-instructor’s backpacker guitar to back up my rapping:

“Yo yo, yo! This is Nita’s rap! Fo-sho!
It was five in the morning I was rubbin’ my eyes,
When I woke up in my room there were two strange guys!
They told me they would take me to a place I would despise,
‘cause I was doin’ drugs, and also tellin’ lies!

It’s the Monarch Center for Family Healin’
Where we’re down with Contact and expressin’ feelin’
Forever through the rugged Rocky Mountains we will roam,
‘cause once you are among us you ain’t never goin’ home!
Awww nah… You ain’t never goin’ home!”

The kids all thought this was so hilarious (including Nita) that when I came back on shift 3-weeks later, they had taught the rap to the new kids.

Tool of the day:
How can I have fun here?

Most of the time out in the field, we were having fun. Kids like to have fun, and if you’re having fun, you’re not getting into (too much) trouble. If I gave you all the examples of the various ways we had fun, it would fill a book. The kids don’t even need to be having fun, as long as you’re having fun (never at their expense) in a way that invites them to join you if they choose. If they don’t choose to join you for the moment, you still have fun as a leader. Soon most of them will join you. People, both kids and adults, like having fun.

The ways we had fun were endless. In snow we built snow forts, in the summer we dammed the creek. Some kids got into building the most amazing latrines, complete with rocks for back-rest, seat, and arm rests. We held competitions for best creative adaptation of clothing, and fastest tent set-up. We played mind-games and riddles on the hikes, told ghost stories and jokes, and tried to give Jessie a dreadlock. We participated in the time-honored arts of “who can melt a quesadilla on a stick,” “who can hit that weird-looking tree with a rock,” and “who can blow on a coal until it gets completely red.”

So, whether you spend most of your time with youth, or with other adults, spend a week periodically asking yourself throughout the day, "How can I have fun here?" If you think you might forget to ask yourself this question, set a reminder on your phone every couple hours: Note to self, How can I have fun here? Let me know what happens.

Join Mark Andreas this Saturday, March 14th, in Boulder Colorado for a 1-day Introduction to NLP Training.