divinewrites

This is not your typical Veggie Tales commentary.  It has nothing to do with dancing and singing veggies encouraging the viewer to tap into an inner moral compass.  It has everything to do with exploration, courage, and letting go.

Could I use teaching gardens that had been built and planted for the school year as a means for learning and fun in the summer? What lessons could I teach in a way that engaged students, helped them discover something new, and didn’t feel like “school” in the process?  An interactive camp experience followed where we concentrated on one aspect of planting and growth and linked it to health and nutrition.  YES! (Youth Eating Smart) Summer Camps were born!

I had to bring the campers an experience that would stick-that would cause them to go home still talking about the experience and provide the springboard for more camps and program development options.  I also needed to prove to our board of directors and donors that we had a product worth the investment. When 12 campers showed up on the first day, I was disappointed, but through word of mouth and by working connections, 45 students and adults showed up on a warm Friday morning to sample stir fry in a garden.

What?  Wait, stir fry in a garden in SD July heat?  Precisely.

The backbone of any nonprofit are the strengths of its connections and its ability to leverage those connections in ways that are mutually beneficial.  In this case, we had solid connections with both healthcare systems in the area and I tapped into one to see if they had some chef expertise to lend to the cause.  They did and they did!  Chef Elaine appeared and brought Master Chef mad skills to YES! Camp.

Seated in the audience were 2 young boys whom director-mom had mandated they attend.  They did so, grudgingly at first, until the second morning arrived, and the term water fight was used to describe watering the garden beds.  On the last day, they beat me to the site, excited to see what the rest of the morning would bring.  One of my sons, my oldest, was the one I was most worried about in terms of food.  He was notoriously picky, with only a few items that he deemed ok enough to eat.  There were many factors influencing his preferences.  The 2 biggest barriers to expanding his eating palate were housed in his brain. You see, with some mental health diagnosis, there are elements that occur that Dr’s don’t tell you, because they do not appear in all cases.  One of those elements is an extreme aversion to sights, sounds, smells, and textures unfamiliar to them.  Sensory overload often occurs in children with ADHD and the co-morphing, Generalized Anxiety.  This means that textures, smells, and sounds can cause extreme moments of anxiety and panic in these children.  Clothing tags, loud sounds, different tastes, and textures can throw them into panic modes, and they shut down or become combative.   My son had both diagnoses and a larger than life vocabulary and understanding of the world around him.  That meant that chicken nuggets were often the safest option for lunch.  Other attempts to broaden his choices proved futile and ended in shouting and tears from all perspectives.  I had no idea how today would go and I swallowed back the fear lodged in my throat for most of the morning.

I stood back and watched the presentation, marveling at Chef Elaine’s ability to engage such a wide audience despite the heat of day.  She chopped and diced and sautéed her way into the camper’s hearts with good humor and a smile.  As she dished up her stir fry masterpiece, I watched them clamor for a spot in line.  My youngest joined his friends near the middle of the pack and I searched the line for my oldest.  He was hanging back, uncertain of the options, looking for an out and hoping mom wasn’t watching so he could ditch and run.  I busied myself with others, stealing a look occasionally, praying    bravery would win the day.

He approached the table, received his plate, and winced as a healthy ladle of stir fry was deposited on his plate.  He grabbed a fork and walked tentatively back to his spot in the back of the group, sat down, sighed, and looked around.  I saw him pick at it, turning over the veggies, inspecting the beef, and smelling the dish to detect anything amiss.  Then I hear the giggle, the “Mom, hey Mom!!” and saw the smile spread across his face and reach his eyes.

“Mom, hey Mom!  I did it!”  I smiled at him as he repeated his movements, stabbing at a large broccoli and popping it into his mouth.

“Mom, I didn’t think I could do it.  But I tried a broccoli floret and, I. Liked. It!”

Of course, he said broccoli floret, of course he knew the correct word and demonstrated its usage perfectly as he polished off the rest of his meal, seasoned beef, and all.

I smiled a huge smile, sent a mouthed thank you to our daycare provider friend who was seated next to him and had encouraged his bravery, and complimented him on venturing out of his comfort zone.   And I stole off into a quiet corner and swiped at the tears that formed rivers down my cheeks.

As the director of a new program, I needed proof that it was working, the numbers proved that.   As communications and fundraising lead of a nonprofit, I had to justify numbers and show a viable return on investment, now I had the raw data telling me we had a winning formula.  As a teacher, I had the examples, the testimonies, and the evaluations directing my next plan of action and I was overjoyed that my little experiment had worked.    But nothing was better than seeing my son overcome fear, set misgivings aside, and try something new. All other roles and titles fell away, and I was just mom.   A mom who didn’t have to convince or cajole, threaten, or ground him, and I didn’t have feel guilty for the argument and fight I knew was coming.   In that moment all the other duties ceased to matter.  A broccoli floret.  He may never try it again or like it the next time it’s offered.  It didn’t matter.  All the of numbers, raw data, and evaluation paled in comparison to one 10-year-old boy beating the odds, and for the moment, winning.