Testing me, perhaps?

Night number two at Chemawa was very different from the first. Overall, there were fewer students and much less energy than we had the previous week in the library. Last week, it looked like it would be more helpful to just work with whichever student seemed to be asking for it. This week, only two or three brave souls appeared to be interested in doing any homework, so I decided to just try to get to know my "assigned" students. For the purpose of respecting identities, I will write of the students and staff I encounter using only initials. K, again, sat right down and starting plowing through some health homework. M was listening to his iPod with another student, and when A encouraged him to do something more productive with his time, I took it as an opportunity to re-introduce myself and see if we could make some headway.

After what felt like an incredibly awkward amount of sideways glances from he and his cousin, P, we broke the ice and they started talking to me. They're from Fort Duchesne, in Utah, and have family all over the west. M says he's been to Pow Wows in Idaho, and heads to Salt Lake a lot with his friends. We discovered that we have a love for volleyball in common, and it sounds like he's been playing for years and years with his sisters. (How cool would it be to play with him some day, or get him to a game at Willamette?) He says his favorite things to watch on TV are the BYU vs. Hawaii men's volleyball games, and he knows his stuff!

A came by at about 7:30 to remind him that he should have been working on a biology review sheet all night, but he insisted he hadn't been informed by the teacher that there was to be a test the next day. He skirted around the issue for a while, arguing and eventually telling A that he wasn't interested in discussing it any longer. When she walked away he dropped a few derogatory insults, which led to the two of us having a conversation about his anger. And here's where I become an absolutely worthless communicator and feel in over my head...

M led me through countless difficult situations from his lifetime, explaining that his parents have not been a part of his life since he was very young. He spoke of going to counseling to deal with anger, to discuss troubling dreams, to struggle with depression, and to talk about his "craziness," as he put it. He told me some horrifying stories about things he has done to himself, and habits he has of manipulating friends and family members to the point of being near suicide before he "snaps out of it" and convinces them that life is worth living. He said he gets a burning sensation on his body every time he goes into a church or touches a cross, and that he has rejected the native church and made a decision to join what he calls "the other side."

So as he candidly dumps all of this onto the table, I can't help but wonder why he's telling me anything at all. Is he just telling stories? Does he genuinely need to get some of this off his chest? Is all of it true? He explained to me that he liked to warn people about it while he could so that he didn't hurt them later when he "went crazy," but due to the manner in which he told me it seemed like more than anything he was testing me. Testing to see if I'd shy away, testing to see if I'd believe him, testing to see if I'd think he was crazy, too.

I listened to him as if I believed everything he said. I asked questions to clarify parts of his story. But mostly I let him take the conversation where he wanted/needed to take it. By the end, we were laughing again as he showed me pictures on his iPhone. The last thing he said before was left was, "That calmed me down. See you next week." I think next week will be the real test, and I plan to be there, ready to laugh at his jokes or help him with homework, or listen to more about his life outside of the contsraints of normal thought and expectations for human behavior.