Punks and Liars

It’s official: I’m official.

The first hour of Teen Club is mine, the hour while kids are still arriving and settling into cliques in the waiting room. Woohoo! It’s been awhile since I was in charge of a bunch of teenage girls in our Salt Lake City ward and I forgot how much I love those “punks and liars,” as Andy calls them.

From the scrappiest, dirtiest, quietest non-English speaking boy by himself on the bench, to the smartiest smart-aleck in a hoodie with earbuds in, pretending not to hear me, I love them.

This week they drew each other’s profiles. We snagged some paper from CC’s table (“I don’t go through it very fast because I just let the kids stay on their mother’s lap. Unless they’re really sick, and then I’m like, ‘Ok, I gotta feel that.’”) and taped it up on a couple doors in a dark area of the hall. One kid held the flashlight, one held the pencil and drew, and one tried to stand still and not smile. I asked them to write things they like about themselves and their families inside the profile. I think that mostly got translated to “What do you want to be when you grow up.”

I know I overuse the word “poignant,” both in my own head and on paper here, but I’ll say it once more: those shadowed profiles of beautiful children’s faces, dancing in front of a jittering flashlight: as poignant as all get out.









(I’d love to hear your ideas for art/craft/music/dance ideas to do with these kids for an hour or so…)