Let the Energy Flow: How Modern Schooling Inhibits Children

I attended a Veterans Day assembly at my daughter's junior high school yesterday. She plays trombone in the band so we wanted to see and support her.

It was a lovely ceremony all around, but an incident happened shortly after we arrived that has been sitting with me since.

I have a ten-year-old who is very sensitive to his surroundings. When he gets too much sensory input or energy, he tends to make more noise, or fidget, or rock, or do something that in ordinary society tends to be a little irritating.

Recently, he was over the top at Walmart, a place I avoid religiously but needed something I couldn't get elsewhere in town.

I find the soul-sucking atmosphere there to be so oppressive and anxiety-inducing, but I have the benefit of being an adult with many years of suffering this particular experience.

My son, however, was really struggling, picking, poking, singing and otherwise irritating his siblings. Then, he began to cry when they repeatedly asked him (and snapped at, if I'm honest) to stop and I realized, with the astute observation of my also-sensitive 17-year-old son: he's trying to manage this energy in the only ways he can see in front of him.

It helped me reframe the entire "nervous energy" experience in children and I have a completely new outlook on how much our modern day kids suffer in ways they can't express that result in punishments they don't deserve.

So, back to the assembly yesterday.

A young boy, probably 13 or 14, got called down to sit on the bench I happened to be sitting at.

His crime? He roughouse-punched a friend in the thigh.

I'm getting older, but I vividly remember the excitement of assemblies and uncommon events at school. Finally, something other than the drudgery of going to class!

The energy is high, the enthusiasm is up and the noise is most definitely increased.

What do sensitive kids do with all that energy they're suddenly bombarded with?

It has to go somewhere. This is a basic natural law.

Yet in school, they are expected to maintain composure at all times.

This poor kid was so dejected. He tried to ask for another chance. He tried to say it didn't seem fair, and he was shot down at every turn.

Finally, he slumped on the bench next to me, hood on, head down. I wanted so badly to say something to him. I could feel his struggle and the unfairness.

Then, to add insult to insult, this military looking guy who had spent the last several minutes barking at kids in the bleachers called him over...to berate him for having his hood on.

He'd just been berated, singled out among his friends and told that he was inherently bad for being high energy at an assembly. Not conforming. Not performing Good Little Boy.

All freedom of expression, of being, of finding a way to manage this moment were denied him. No outlet, no one in his corner, no one even trying to understand basic human nature.

Shortly after, a young girl in the band leaned over and punched her female neighbor. Hard. The girl visibly reacted in pain.

And the act went "unnoticed," leaving me to wonder how it might have gone were they boys.

Now, I understand that there are just some kids who will try and push and test the boundaries over and over again. I'm raising one.

I also see how he is respectful and joyful and loving, but when he is treated badly, or unfairly, all that goodwill flies out the window.

When he knows I'm on his side, genuinely trying to help him even if I don't get it right all the time, he has a lot more tolerance for my mistakes and gives me his best effort.

I don't have the answers, but I wonder what it might look like if we worked with the natural expression of energy these kids are trying to channel.

What would an assembly look like if the educators understood the need for this energy to be expressed in a healthy way?

What if we had a short physical activity to transition between classroom to high energy, high excitement assemblies?

How would our kids respond if we guided rather than coerced, if we accepted them rather than forced them to fit into a mold that chafes?

The kids aren't broken. They are beautiful and unique and filled with the future. It is the system we need to take a closer look at.

Meanwhile, I'm going to go hug my son and tell him how wonderful he is just as he is.