Many of you have asked, but Grace has not made her decision yet. I spend much of my time with her, though I do not have any guidance to give her. It must be her choice.
Another event, however, has called me away from her for a bit. It has come out that Mary and her friends are the authors of the website they call Strugglebus. Aaron used it as his final project for one of his classes, presenting it for his peers and his teachers. I was there for the presentation at the end of last week—it went quite well.
Mary and the others were nervous about revealing themselves, of course, but they were not expecting very much of a response. So it was a surprise to them to go to school this morning and walk into a slightly different atmosphere than usual. People glanced up as they passed and even greeted them when before they were ignored. More than one student came up to Mary with questions about the site or the resources found there. At lunch, Jordan told the group that several people had asked him about it. “I told them I didn’t have anything to do with it, but people seem to think I’m in the know,” he said.
“I wonder why,” Nadia said, but she was being sarcastic, and she eyed Mary and Jordan’s hands, clasped on top of the table.
Mary turned red, but she didn’t let go of Jordan’s hand, and she smiled at him.
“Viewership is way up,” Aaron noted—he had his laptop out and was on the site, looking at its statistics. “And we’re getting a lot more chatter. Mostly people like that it’s people our age who have been running it.”
“What I want to know is what the adults are going to say,” Natalie said. “I’ve got an appointment with the guidance counselor this afternoon.”
“Me, too,” Mary said, and it soon became clear that all of them had been asked to report.
“Do you think he’s mad? We vetted all our resources, and we haven’t ever done or said anything that might be bad for someone,” Nadia said. “I’ve checked and double-checked.”
“Yeah, we know,” Aaron said. He shrugged. “Do we really care if he’s mad? He can’t make us take it down. It’s not a school thing.”
“Says the guy who used it for a grade,” Natalie drawled.
He aimed a half-hearted kick at her. Jordan shook his head. “I bet it’s good news,” he said. “Gurley’s a cool guy.”
‘Cool’, I have learned, is not a word often used by teenagers to describe adults. It seems to be bestowed on those who treat adolescents as equals, who do not try to talk down to them and actually listen to what they have to say. Mr. Gurley is quite deliberate about this. Thankfully for him, he also has a good sense of humor.
I went with Mary to her appointment with him, finding him playing with what was unmistakably a tiny catapult on his desk. He narrowly missed hitting her with a ball of paper as she came in.
“Sorry, Mary,” he said, jumping up. He is a trim man with a thick beard streaked with white, dressed today in a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. (At lunch today Natalie called him a DILF, which seems to have something to do with his appearance, but I could not interpret it.)
“That’s okay,” Mary said, picking up the projectile. “Did you make that?”
“Ah, no,” he said. “I bought it. Not that much of a nerd.” He said this last somewhat regretfully, which made Mary smile. “Have a seat. I called you in here because I wanted to talk to you about something you made.”
Mary’s smile disappeared. “The website,” she said, sitting down on the edge of the chair.
“Yep.” Mr. Gurley leaned back against the edge of his desk, showing an easy expression to remove her nerves. “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. I’m just curious to learn a little more about it. I talked to your friends. They all said that it was your idea. Is that true?”
Mary shrugged. “Well, yes. But they were the ones who put it together.”
“Still, it’s not nothing to start something like this.” Mr. Gurley went around his desk and sat down, waking up his computer. “Mary, I’ve got to say, I’ve been on the website all weekend, ever since Ms. Casey told me about Aaron’s presentation. And I love it. I think it’s beautifully designed, carefully thought-out, and exactly what a lot of my students need.”
Mary was relieved that his response was positive, but also embarrassed by the praise. “Thanks. We just wanted to help.”
“Which shows a strength of spirit and a spirit of compassion that I don’t usually see in people your age.” He smiled at her, and his aura was filled with pride and gladness. I showed this to Mary, and her cheeks brightened.
Mr. Gurley leaned forward. “So tell me, what was it that you did for the website? What was your role?”
Mary told him, and he clicked over to the chats, skimming through them. For a moment he was quiet, reading and nodding to himself. Mary waited, somewhat anxious still.
“You give excellent advice,” he said finally. “Really, I’m very impressed. Have you ever considered psychology as a career option?”
Mary blinked. “You mean, social work or therapy?”
He nodded. “I think you would be very good at it. You’ve already shown an aptitude.” He waved towards the computer.
Mary shook her head. “I guess I hadn’t thought much at all about what I want to do.”
“Well, think about it. I’m happy to point you to some solid programs, and I might even know a few people who would put in a good word for you, especially after they see what you’ve done.” He leaned forward. “That’s one reason I asked you to come in, Mary, but aside from recruiting you, I’d like to formally ask your permission to use your website as one of my resources for my students.”
“You really want to?” Mary was not entirely surprised by this, but very glad to hear it. “I mean, I’m happy for you to share it, that’s what we made it for, but you really think it’s that good?”
“Have you heard anything I’ve said since you walked in?” he asked, laughing. “Yes, Mary, it’s excellent. I wouldn’t change a thing. Although I certainly hope that you’ll keep it up-to-date, and I might be able to help with that down the line. But I certainly don’t want to step on your toes. What’s wonderful about this site is that it comes from you and your friends, not some old guy sitting behind a desk.”
“You’re not old,” Mary said charitably.
“Oh, you’re too kind, but I am definitely old, Mary.” He rapped his knuckles on the desk. “Now, if I do begin citing Strugglebus as a source, it may mean that I’m referring students directly to you and your chat. That’s why I wanted to let you know beforehand and get your permission. So does that sound all right to you?”
“Yeah, of course,” Mary said.
“Perfect,” Mr. Gurley said with a smile. “Then thank you very much, Mary, and congratulations again on a truly wonderful piece of work.” He stood and held out his hand to her.
Flushed with the praise, Mary rose and took his hand. She started to go, then stopped and glanced back. “So, if I were going to think about psychology as a career, where should I start?”
Mr. Gurley grinned and pointed to the chair. “Park it back there and I’ll tell you.”
So truly a success, and one that my young charges can be proud of. Nadia, Aaron, and Natalie all got similar advice from Mr. Gurley, and they too gave permission for him to use it as a resource. In time, many young people from this school and others may use Strugglebus to find a light in the darkness.
One person—one child, even—can make such a difference. It is something to celebrate, and I certainly shall.