Adolescent Participants Responses

To my fellow facilitators:

Lionel

Lionel (not his real name) joined the 12 Heartbeats the second week of the protocol. He walked with a swagger and reeked of attitude born in the “Hood,” as he so aptly referred to it. He slumped in his seat, and interjected sarcastic humor into nearly everything. At times, I couldn’t resist chuckling and breaking into full laughter.

Lionel deferred any serious thought, reaction or comment to his “jokester” mode effortlessly. “Being funny” he readily acknowledged as his best quality. He offered no apology.

His first drumming contribution was a violent slam on the gathering drum that sent us to our feet. The group’s awareness drifted to a gunshot in the hood… a sound that was all too familiar.

Over the course of the following weeks, he remained stoic while clinging to the gathering drum. If one of the other members arrived first and took the drum, he immediately reclaimed it. Somehow Grandma Drum was a security issue for him. The wisdom in not challenging his need was apparent to all. Whenever we rotated instruments, Lionel never allowed Grandma to move from his side.

During the first four HealthRHYTHMS sessions, Grandma reflected his anger, frustration and sense of being lost. Everyone recognized that unspoken eerie connection between Lionel, Grandma and his legendary “gunshot sound.”

The group has its own rules. There is an unspoken understanding that even though words exchanged may be uttered harshly at times; there is a shared sensitivity of when challenging is not to be tolerated. Instinct drives the innate survival sense for “backing off.”

The first time Lionel put away the mallet for a brief period and placed his hands on Grandma, it was to drum his expression of “running away.” The others in the group immediately commented and gave credit to his breakthrough. At that point, I merely observed. I really had no idea how Lionel would respond. He had not shared anything “real” previously, and had never tolerated any acknowledgement of an emotional response. He merely nodded sheepishly and appeared pleased.

During the next session, “Inspirational Beats” surprised all of us. “The hardest thing for me to do is…” Lionel immediately blurted: “be more tolerant of others, and not come on so strong.”

As we began to drum, Lionel moved Grandma aside and reached for a djembe. He drummed with more freedom and enthusiasm than I had ever witnessed. Whether he had ever seriously drummed previously remains unknown. It was startling to observe his hands flying with such incredible rhythm and expression.

“WOW, Lionel that was incredible, did you know you could do that?” yelled several members of the group.

He shrugged his shoulders and responded, “I was just ready.”

Who could ever imagine what happened within this young man that incredible day? One had only to look into his eyes to witness immense pain, anger and fear. There was no way to measure the significance of that rare moment. The celebratory response from the group echoed the look of new-found strength on his face. He never echoed another gunshot.

Soon thereafter, Lionel was discharged.

Mid-fall, the facility received a telephone call from the principal of the school that Lionel attends. “I don’t know what happened there at your facility, but Lionel is a changed young man. He attends school every day, he studies hard, plays basketball and is planning a future. Whatever took place there transformed him and gave him hope.”

As the facilitator, I changed as well. And so did our group… on many levels that are likely not to be fully realized for quite some time.

Lionel will not be forgotten. Each time I cringe from that frustrated outburst on Grandma, a part of me smiles from within.

My fellow facilitators, when group challenges seem overwhelming and the right move evades you, settle back and do not judge them or yourself. Maintain your intention and trust the process.

Know that what needs to happen… will.