When a child has become withdrawn, lost touch with his wishes and is unable to access joy, what do you do? Use Language of Listening coaching skills and watch the magic unfold.

In a 4th grade leadership class, the topic was how to make your wishes come true. The children were to list important wishes/unimportant wishes, then list visioning/planning strategies and sub-strategies. Step #1 was to copy the following statements and fill in the blanks with wishes:

“I want to be _____”

“I want to be _____”

The teacher directed me to a quiet, withdrawn boy who was staring at a blank sheet of paper on the table in front of him. He looked sad and uncomfortable and was keenly aware that the other kids were busily writing, and he was not.

I asked him if I could sit beside him. He nodded, I pulled up a chair and quietly made an observation:

SAY WHAT YOU SEE (SWYS): “Hmm. You’re not writing your wishes.”

 

Child: “I don’t have any.”

He started fidgeting nervously with a marker. Since “knowing things” helps meet a child’s need for power, I started a conversation with him about something he knew — his family. I explained that I knew his mother and remembered that he had younger siblings. I stopped there so he could tell me the rest, and he did.

He told me they were boy and girl twins. Then he told me a little more about how they were always bothering him and said he wished they would leave him alone. I said “alone time” sounded like it might be a wish he could write down if he wanted to, but he declined.

Since wishes seemed out of reach for the moment, I suggested that he try thinking of something more immediate, maybe something he liked or wanted. He perked up a little at that thought, opened the marker and paused.

From his previous comment, I guessed he might appreciate some time alone to try out this new idea, so I stepped away to work with some other children. When I came back he had copied the two “I want to be _____” statements on his paper. Though they remained blank, I recognized that as progress and made another observation:

SWYS: “Looks like you think you might be able to find some things you want to be.”

 

Child: “I’m trying to think of the words.”

 

CAN DO: “You can describe what you want to be to me and see if that helps you find the words.”

 

Child: “No. I’m just thinking of them.”

 

SWYS: “You want to think of them yourself.”

 

Child: (nods)

Respecting his wishes, I went away again, and when I came back this time I saw that he had filled in the blanks with “happy” and “joyful.” My heart ached at the contrast between what he had written and the sad, withdrawn little boy sitting in front of me.

The teacher had moved on to visioning and strategizing, and he put his marker down. I clarified that for him by asking how he could be happy or joyful. He couldn’t think of any way.

Thinking “could,” like wishes, might be too distant, I asked him to think of times when he already felt happy and joyful. That was much easier, and he quickly came up with this strategy: “Relax and think of things I like.” When I asked when that happens, he said, “When I’m asleep.” So I suggested he write that down as a strategy, and he jumped on it like he had just been given permission to write something he hadn’t thought would be OK.

Then I asked if he could think of any way he could relax and think of things he likes when he is awake so he could feel happy and joyful then, too. He thought a minute then brightened and said, “When I’m alone!” and immediately wrote down, “Alone time” with relish like he had just claimed a prize. He finally had permission to want the thing he had wanted all along.

Then the most wonderful thing happened. When it was OK for him to want alone time, he no longer needed it and immediately joined into a conversation with the little girls sitting at the next table. His entire demeanor shifted and he became happy and joyful as he talked and giggled with the girls. I almost laughed out loud when the teacher had to ask him to quiet down so she could teach. He continued to be relaxed and engaged with the other children for the remainder of the class.

I talked to his mother afterward, and she said they’d had lots of family around for the past month, and he’d been sharing a room with his siblings. She was relieved to hear that he knew what he wanted and said she would work with him to get it.

Permission to want what he wanted, put him back in touch with his joy.