“You knowyou have worked a miracle here, don’t you?”
My coworker Aniya was referring to my work with Sakani during my time volunteering at Renewed group home. Sakani Washington was truly the hardest case I’d ever seen. He’d been let down so many times in his short life; there weren’t many people he trusted. Although it took me close to a year to earn his trust, I was one of the blessed few.
I say blessed because Sakani really was a sweet boy, and knowing him—I mean really getting to know him—had changed my life. I was proud of how the work we did helped him, and it helped to know the countless volunteer hours I spent at Renewed weren’t in vain.
“Sakani helped me just as much as I helped him. I don’t think we truly become good youth counselors until we experience our most difficult kids and still be able to help them.”
“Well, we are so grateful to have you here. We had so many so-called counselors come through here and not give a damn, excuse my language, if they helped these kids or not. You have put your heart into this job, and we all can see it.”
“Thank you for saying that. I try my best. Can you do me a favor and tell Sakani to come see me if he’s out there in the common area?”
“Sure will. I know he’s out there counting down the minutes. Poor boy never thought this day would come.”
“It’s a blessing. I’m so happy for him.”
“We all are.”
Aniya made her way out of the room I used as an office whenever I planned to work a full day at the group home. It was set up like a psychiatrist’s office with desk space for notes and a comfortable couch ready to collect stories.
It wasn’t long before Sakani’s loud taps could be heard against the door. Not all of the kids here knocked before they entered, but Sakani did. No matter how long it took me to answer, he always waited patiently.
“Come on in, Sakani.”
He walked in wearing the half smile that I mostly only saw inside these four walls. When he was out with the other kids, Sakani was quiet, and his facial expressions were stoic, but I’d seen a few smiles slip in here.
“What’s good, Dr. E?”
Sakani barely made eye contact as he made his way to his seat. It wasn’t anything against me. We were still working on his confidence, but I was grateful he’d started opening up at all. That was probably the reason we’d made it as far as we had today.
“Hi, Sakani. Today’s the big day, huh?”
“I guess you can say that.”
Sakani slouched a little as he took a seat on the couch across from me. I could tell he wasn’t in the best mood, and I wanted to know why. Today was a big day for him, but everything about his body language told me he didn’t see it that way.
“Why don’t you sound more excited to be getting adopted? I thought this is what you wanted.”
“I do.”
Sakani responded by finally making eye contact, and I could see the hesitation. He was afraid. Although I understood it, he didn’t, and that was a problem. Sakani needed to know that being afraid was natural. It wasn’t something he had to run from.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“What if he don’t like me? And who signs up to be a single dad? That don’t sound weird to you, Dr. E? The man don’t even have a wife. What he want with a kid? A teenage son at that?”
A smile formed on my face as Sakani shot off one question after the other. When I met him two years ago, I never could have imagined him rambling the way he was. Sakani came to Renewed after being bounced around since he was five years old.
By the time he made it to us, he’d lost all sense of trust and stability. This home was the only place he’d stayed longer than six months, and every place before felt like a rest stop. At least that’s what he told me when he finally started talking to me.
“See, even you think this is funny.”
“No, Sakani, I’m not laughing at you. I am so proud of you.”
“Proud of me for what?”
“Do you remember when we first met?”
“Yeah, you was bugging.”
