Mid-July, about 30 minutes into a meeting with a new family, sitting at the table in the North Star office area:

Youth: “I’m done with this meeting. I’ve heard enough. Can we go?”  Youth looks around, realizes that their comment sounded a bit harsh.

Youth: “I mean, I want to go here. I like what I’ve heard. Sign me up. I just want to be done sitting here.”

Ken: “You are welcome to get up. We might continue to talk, but you can feel free to look around the building or go outside.”

The teen then stood up, pushed in their chair, and took two steps backward, and bent over to pet my dog, Josie. The teen proceeded to sit down cross-legged and stayed there for the next 15 minutes scratching Josie, who had rolled over to expose her belly with her paws in the air.

All this person wanted to do was stand up and be excused from participating in the meeting. They didn’t actually want to go anywhere, and they didn’t even mind listening to the questions and answers that followed in the rest of the meeting. They just wanted to be done sitting still at the table.

I looked at them, and said, “Oh goodness, I wish I had offered you that move sooner. By the way, in all of our classes here, you are welcome to stand up, sit on the floor, or shift as you need, assuming you aren’t distracting or bothering anyone. You won’t need to ask for permission to move about in this building again.”

The parents were not surprised at their child’s move, just reflective that they didn’t offer them any choice either but to sit at the table. “That’s what you do in these situations, in a new school, meeting a new adult.” I nodded in full agreement.

Sitting at a table to meet someone new is a reasonable social expectation. Congratulations to this young person for having the courage to express their need, and to do so calmly and appreciatively. The simple act of “officially disengaging” to stretch out on the floor with a dog was sufficient to change a confining and exhausting moment into something quite tolerable (even enjoyable!) for an extended period of time.

This incident struck me in a particularly powerful way. I hadn’t realized the teen was feeling stressed during our conversation. Apparently, the parents didn’t fully notice the discomfort either. The simple acceptance of the request by all of the adults present turned a brief moment of surprise into a passing and forgettable shift of the child’s position in the room.

But I wondered, “How often does this happen to this child? How did they make it this far through school, where usually there is such limited movement for students? How often have other children felt this way in my presence while I’ve been oblivious?

I take this incident as a wake-up call. I’ll be sure to let people of all ages know they are free to stand up, sit down, stretch, or move about as necessary when we are meeting. The distractions are minimal and easy to accommodate.

I hope this young person truly heard and believed me when I said they will never need to ask for permission again to stand up at North Star, in a class, or elsewhere. If so, what impact might that message have had? The child is 12 years old, facing six more years of schooling. Could this interaction have changed their outlook on what learning with others might feel like for them going forward? What if they don’t have to dread getting up every day, and instead they feel in control of their body wherever they go? This brief exchange seemed monumental to me, and in the future, I look forward to inquiring how this person actually experienced this event.

Before leaving, the youth asked, “Does this dog get to come here during the year?” Alas, for now, the answer is no, due to various concerns. I told them, “Probably not, but that is something you could bring up at Community Meeting for a larger discussion!” 😊

Josie… therapy dog?