Come in then. Please. Sit down.

Let’s talk about it.

First off, it is a job! A good job; one for which you will be paid; of course, not what you thought you were worth when you were gnashing your teeth in college or grad-school waiting for final exam grades — no!  But you will be paid.

OK, I see you’re laughing. That’s good. So I can rest assured that you’renot here for the money. If you were, I would tell you to carry on and not waste our time together.

I’m sorry, though. I have to laugh too. Once you’re working here for a while, the kids will say exactly that: “Oh, you’re just here to collect a paycheck.” When you hear this, just smile at the young man or lady. Sooner or later, they’ll know the truth.

And yes. It is a job like any other job. There’s politics! There are struggles with others to gain the advantage, get the promotions, you know the drill. You’ll probably get written-up a time or two. But don’t get caught up in that! Take heart in knowing you have important work to do.

It does get hard sometimes though. You’ll work one day till 10:30 p.m. and have to be back at 8 am. If the ‘night-man’ (or woman) has sick kids or something else happens, and they can’t find someone to relieve you; well, you’ll stay all night. Don’t worry. It almost never happens that way; but it does happen! You need to be ready if it does.

Oh, and you’ll be put on the spot. You’ll field some tough questions from your supervisor getting out of bed some mornings  — on what you did and why the night before. Administrators and parents: they will grill you; and when you go to court, judges and court officials; and you’ll grow from it. But none of that will even compare to what the boys and girls will put you through as you go to group each day. They’re sharp. They’re relentless! But I promise you: you’ll grow!

There will be times when you think, “I can’t do this!” You’ll be overwhelmed by the pure enormity of the task of putting back together young lives where there was little hope before you came on the scene. There will be those other times when you think you’re better than the boys, girls and parents you work for. You’ll think you’re smarter, more sophisticated, better bred….  Whatever?!?.... You know how ego’s work.

Then one day, one kid will say something that makes you blink, makes your heart skip. You suddenly realize you won’t have to look too deep inside yourself, your own family or circle of friends to know we all have the same problems. Yes! Human problems!

Another day or late one night, you’ll sit with a boy while he tells you about his father. He’ll tell you how much he loves him. He’ll start to cry while telling you what it was like to see him ‘strung-out’ on methamphetamine: dazed, soiled and sleeping in his clothes. You’ll know what to say and do when this happens, the people around you will have prepared you for it; in time, you’ll learn to listen to your heart and speak from it.

Yet another time, a boy will tell you that his ‘street-gang’ is his real ‘family’, and you’ll understand completely! He’ll explain to you how, when he was 11 years old, they looked after him when his parents couldn’t. You’ll tell him to keep talking about it —to go to group and talk with the others when he’s ready to. One day he will, and you might then hear about the time he walked into his house when he was 10 and found his family brutally murdered, his little sister raped. You’ll stop wondering why kids get into trouble and why they learn to do stupid things for attention. And you won’t have to work here 10 or 20 years to hear these stories either. I’d give you … maybe, six months.

But let me say a little more about being paid. I think I implied that you will not be well-paid, but that’s not exactly true. Indeed, you may become very rich doing this job.

I was sitting in the office a few days ago, catching up on some paperwork when the phone rang. It was Mrs. Churchill. I had long since forgotten about her and her son, whom I had known and worked with some 15 years earlier. She had just called to thank me.

“For what”, I asked?

“Well”, she beamed.  “I just wanted to tell you that Thomas has his own parish now. He is ordained.”

“That’s fantastic,” I said.  “How exciting! You must be so proud!”
We talked for a few more minutes until we ran out of things to say. Before she hung up, she said, “You know you gave my son back to me, don’t you?”

I must admit: I don’t remember what I said in response. Do you think you would have known what to say? Never mind. That’s really a rhetorical question. And for that kind of thing to happen to you, you’ll probably have to wait a few years; in that time, however, you’ll find out what a privilege it is to work at Boys Republic.

Now, don’t come in here thinking you are going to change people! Heaven knows you’ve got enough changing to do yourself, on your own. People change by themselves, as they are ready to; you just have to give them the time, substance and the environment that allows them to do it.

As I said when you came in, it’s a job, a good job. But more than that, it’s work! It’s hard work. It’s God’s work.

Welcome to Boys Republic!

Jeff Johansson

Jeff Johansson currently works as caseworker at McCormick Cottage. He has served Boys Republic for 33 years; twice as Director at Silverlake and three times as Unit Supervisor. He was Treatment Director from 1989 to 1994. He writes professionally in his spare time.