New Kid on the Block
I suppose I was lucky to never experience the "new kid" feeling growing up.
Today I saw a lot of new faces at the elementary school I'm at on Tuesdays, a lot of eyes staring at the ground during recess. One kid in particular caught my attention.
Short, hands in his pockets, kicking the gravel around - the type of kid who is so shy he can't even look you in the eyes when you talk to him.
I greeted him with my signature high five to say hello and break the ice. I couldn't understand his name, only that it rhymed with Mickey Froto, or something along those lines. He had no clue that in just a matter of days, he'd have friends before he knew it. Day 1 must have felt like an eternity. That first recess, those first, fresh fifteen minutes of freedom seemed all too much for him to handle.
He struck me as someone who needs mucho time to warm up to you before he lets you in, and that probably applies to how he interacts with kids too. Another adult tried to make him feel welcome, only it seemed to make him feel worse, as if he needed someone else to point out his struggle. His hunch deepened and suddenly he started to grimace.
"Is it your leg?" He could barely stand upright, as though the weight of his hands in his pockets were going to make him keel right over onto the cement. His feet took a few more steps before he melted into the side of the woman who was trying to introduce him to some new friends.
They made their way to a set of steps to cool off and he lost himself in the palms of his hands. She looked at me as he cried and I gave her my signature half side smile as if to say, "I know."
My heart went out to him.
Everyone, at some point, has probably experienced social anxiety to a varying degree. As we get older we come up with better ways of covering it up - maybe a few extra drinks at the bar, a loud-face façade or we become very good at justifying not leaving our house. What's interesting to me is how easy it is to blame our malaise on a part of our body not associated with our brain, as if it's more normal for your leg to start hurting out of no where than it is your mind. It's certainly more socially accepted, or so we think.
I've definitely taken a mental health day here and there, masked by some sickness, usually of the stomach kind. Nobody questions stomach issues, but people will talk if you tell them you're too anxious to function.
I'm pretty sure Mickey Froto must be feeling awfully worried about day #2, but I know how awesome those kids are at that school, and I know he'll make good friends quick.
Mental Health Awareness,
Katie
Today I saw a lot of new faces at the elementary school I'm at on Tuesdays, a lot of eyes staring at the ground during recess. One kid in particular caught my attention.
Short, hands in his pockets, kicking the gravel around - the type of kid who is so shy he can't even look you in the eyes when you talk to him.
I greeted him with my signature high five to say hello and break the ice. I couldn't understand his name, only that it rhymed with Mickey Froto, or something along those lines. He had no clue that in just a matter of days, he'd have friends before he knew it. Day 1 must have felt like an eternity. That first recess, those first, fresh fifteen minutes of freedom seemed all too much for him to handle.
He struck me as someone who needs mucho time to warm up to you before he lets you in, and that probably applies to how he interacts with kids too. Another adult tried to make him feel welcome, only it seemed to make him feel worse, as if he needed someone else to point out his struggle. His hunch deepened and suddenly he started to grimace.
"Is it your leg?" He could barely stand upright, as though the weight of his hands in his pockets were going to make him keel right over onto the cement. His feet took a few more steps before he melted into the side of the woman who was trying to introduce him to some new friends.
They made their way to a set of steps to cool off and he lost himself in the palms of his hands. She looked at me as he cried and I gave her my signature half side smile as if to say, "I know."
My heart went out to him.
Everyone, at some point, has probably experienced social anxiety to a varying degree. As we get older we come up with better ways of covering it up - maybe a few extra drinks at the bar, a loud-face façade or we become very good at justifying not leaving our house. What's interesting to me is how easy it is to blame our malaise on a part of our body not associated with our brain, as if it's more normal for your leg to start hurting out of no where than it is your mind. It's certainly more socially accepted, or so we think.
I've definitely taken a mental health day here and there, masked by some sickness, usually of the stomach kind. Nobody questions stomach issues, but people will talk if you tell them you're too anxious to function.
I'm pretty sure Mickey Froto must be feeling awfully worried about day #2, but I know how awesome those kids are at that school, and I know he'll make good friends quick.
Mental Health Awareness,
Katie
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