When I first walked into the Child Psychiatric Unit at St. Vincent’s Hospital, I thought “What have I gotten myself into?” I looked around at the bleak walls and less-than-spotless floors. Attempts to brighten the place with pink, blue and yellow doors were not enough to hide the institution behind them. And of course, the kids, beautiful kids with deep emotional scars and damaging life experiences I can only imagine – psychological and emotional problems I can sympathize with but never fully understand. As a volunteer I am not privy to their medical history or reason for landing here. Some kids looked and acted perfectly fine – smiling and vivacious. Others were acting out, sometimes violently. Some looked despondent, some anxious, some with that somewhat glazed, medicated look I said to myself, “Jan, you are wholly unqualified for this. No psychology background, you’ve never really worked with kids, you don’t even have much yoga teaching experience. Gulp….this is going to be interesting.” And interesting it has been for the past five years.
I volunteered, teaching yoga on the unit once a week. Barbara McKechnie, the full-time drama therapist on the unit and the person who requested a yoga teacher, was a guide, inspiration, and support to me as I slowly, clumsily grew more comfortable in my role, and began to get past those initial fears and insecurities. At St. Vincent’s I really grew up as a teacher. Barbara selected the children who were in my class each week, and she was always there to help keep things in order and respond if something happened. Since the unit had a bit of a triage function, it was seldom that I saw the same children from week to week. This was a mixed blessing. I was glad to see the kids able to move on, back home or to another facility, but sad that I couldn’t continue to work with them and maybe have a more lasting impact. So each time I went there, I didn’t know quite what to expect. Sometimes I had a variety of ages in class, sometimes not. Sometimes there was a mixture of boys and girls, sometimes not. Some had a hard time sitting still, while others needed lots of encouragement to move at all. Some kids loved the class and didn’t want it to end. Others recoiled and didn’t want to bring their attention to their feelings and their bodies. Each of them needed consistent love, nurturing, positive role models, limits, discipline, structure, compassion. Yoga on the unit couldn’t give them all of that, but it gave them tools to come to a place of peace when the world around them was in chaos. It gave them a way to calm themselves when they were upset or full of anxiety. It helped them think in positive terms about themselves. It began to help make them strong and flexible. It helped improve their focus and concentration. It offered them an alternative to the violence that is so often a part of their lives. So for forty five minutes once a week I tried to bring these gifts to the kids.
I often didn’t know if or how these gifts were received. But one thing is certain – if the truth be told, I was the one receiving the gifts. I’ve grown so much, in so many ways. I’ve gained valuable teaching experience. I’ve grown to a place where I am comfortable with the kids and can be open, playful and supportive. I was given the opportunity to look at my fears about teaching and working with kids, and address those fears in a supportive environment. When the opportunity first presented itself, I begged off, making a number of excuses. After sitting with it for awhile, I came to a realization. I said to myself, “This will not be comfortable or easy, but it will be really good for you.” And so I agreed to give it a try. For this opportunity I will always be grateful to Universal Force Healing Center, Ann Taylor – their volunteer coordinator, St. Vincent’s Hospital and Barbara McKechnie. Maybe one of the best kept secrets in volunteerism is that so often the volunteer gains as much or more from the experience as those they are trying to help.
Post Script
Unfortunately, after filing for bankruptcy, the hospital discontinued all its inpatient services, including the pediatric psychiatric unit. The hospital served the West Village for over 160 years, and because it was a charitable hospital, never turned anyone away due to a lack of ability to pay. The hospital will be terribly missed on so many levels. The neighborhood will miss the care it provided to so many. Thousands of people are now out of work and forced into an already difficult job market. I will truly miss bringing yoga to those kids on the unit. The opportunity to teach there was a gift that I sometimes took for granted, but that I will deeply miss.
