Attitude (15 September 2011)

 Some of my life's most exciting and enlightening lessons come from my interactions with children. Not my own children but children bore by others (if I learn so many lessons from one kid, then either the kid is a Buddha or a pain-in-the-ass). 

When I started as a part-time leadership trainer, my first assignment required conducting a three-day workshop for eleven-year-olds. It was a memorable assignment because, after the first day of training, my boss and the team (myself and my two other trainers) sat down at McDonald's, bought six large packets of fries, and ate them all in twenty minutes. That was how exhausting and demanding the job was. 

I remember clearly the second day of the workshop. I had to work with a class of thirty students. Imagine Arnold Schwarzenegger in Kindergarten Cop. That was exactly how I felt when I started the lesson. I had students laughing, screaming, moving around and playing while I was trying to conduct a lesson. But thankfully, classroom management was my forte so getting them to pay attention was not much of a problem except for this one particular girl. 

She had black piercing eyes and was really petite. Her short hair was black and silky, like a raven that had just bathed and stood under the setting sun. Her complexion was white, like the banshee or disfigured female ghost you see in Japanese horror movies. But what really stood out the most about her was her attitude. 

Boy, was she the most stuck-up, rebellious and rude kid I had known so far (more to come when I start teaching). She never listens to my instructions, hardly participates in the activities and tells her classmates that the activities are "so lame". Having to deal with a zoo, a non-threatening species of the animal kingdom, was the least of my concerns, though; her attitude was like an ulcer at the back of my tongue. It is not painful, but it is still there. I was glad when the last half-an-hour came. This was the segment where the students were to share their aspirations, which they had been working on for the past hour, with the class.

The first kid I recall was this chubby boy who reminded me of Piggy in Lord of the Flies. He came to the front of the class and displayed his masterpiece. It was a huge mushroom cloud. My instant reaction? Potential terrorist. I proceeded with caution in trying to understand what exactly his aspiration was. 

"Why did you draw a cloud? What exactly do you want to be when you grow up?" 

"You know cher, you put the bomb and then press the button and the building goes KABOOM! Then you build another building at that place?" 

"Ah! Demolition man." He smiled. 

The second kid drew a huge bungalow with a nuclear plant in his backyard. When questioned, he said he wanted to be a nuclear scientist. I have yet to meet one with a nuclear plant in his backyard. 

Then a tiny long white arm rose into the air. It was the banshee girl. She stood up and demanded to present her work. As much as I sought the pleasure of turning her down for being a pain in the ass, I had to be fair. So, I asked the class if they would allow her to share, and they all nodded. She made her way to the front of the class, and what happened next stunned me. 

She held up her piece of art, and it was beautifully drawn. "I want to be a punk rocker".

It then dawned on me why she was behaving in that manner for the whole day. "Is that why you showed me attitude for the whole day, saying everything was lame?"

She nodded, and her face softened. "Punk rockers are rude and proud. We do not listen to anyone and people like us because we are smart and cool." 

That was a teachable moment for me. I used her example to explain the downside of such assumptions and that not all punk rockers are as mean and nasty as they portray themselves to be. She smiled, and I knew I had connected with the banshee girl. On the last day of the workshop, banshee girl was the most pleasant and helpful student around. 

This incident took place nine years ago. Now, she must be a young adult. I do not know if she did become a punk rocker, but I learnt that impressions of our own aspirations shape our attitude and, in years to come, become who we are.