Crossing the Line

Yesterday at Bridges we did an activity that was incredibly powerful.  It reminded me exactly why I work with these students.

All week they had been discussing diversity.  To finish the week, the leaders wanted to show the students that no matter how different you may feel, you are not alone.  So, they had all of the students line up, shoulder to shoulder, on a line.  Then Casey, the leader, proceeded to read a statement.  If the statement applied to you, you  crossed over the line and walked about 6 feet across the room.  There you turned around and faced the rest of your peers.  Those left standing gave the "I love you" sign with their hands.

The statements started off very simple.   Statements were easy, like:

I am a male.
I am a female.

But as the activity went on, things got deeper and more serious.  These were just a few:

I have been made fun of before.
Someone in my family has a disability.

And then we got very intense.  A couple of the more intense ones were:

Someone in my family is currently in prison.
Home is not a place where I feel safe.

And each time, students crossed the line, only to find that they were not the only ones dealing with these issues.  Many, including myself, were moved to tears, as kids walked across the line, some with arms around each other, to step out and say, "Yes, this is me. This is the stuff I deal with."

One of the statements that really touched me was "My parents are either divorced, separated, or were never married."  I'm not exaggerating, over 75% of the students crossed the line.

As we debriefed after the activity, students shared what this meant to them. Many shared that it was such a relief to know that others were struggling with the same things they were struggling with.  Some were just so encouraged by the fact that nobody laughed when they crossed the line.  Some cried, saying that it was the first time they had really acknowledged these things.

We hugged.
We cried.
We left thankful.

And I was reminded why I love working with Bridges kids.  They can be frustrating and challenging and, well, middle schoolers.  But they are also full of strength and passion.  They are funny, smart, and brave.  And I get to walk alongside them and tell them that God loves them and has a plan for them.

Maybe it's time we all crossed the line and were open and honest about what we are dealing with.  Maybe it would help to know that I'm not the only one who is lonely, or who is scared I'm messing my kids up, or who has no idea what to do with their career.  Maybe putting it out there will help others see that they are not alone either.