I remember where I was when I fully realized and acknowledged the crushing power of being unnecessarily judged.
I was attending a four-day leadership seminar and retreat known today as Maine Youth Leadership. It’s open to one sophomore from each Maine high school. There, I met other young people I considered more than just kids. They had unique and valuable experiences and perspectives to offer. I then realized that the same went for everyone I knew back at my own school as well. It was the program’s judgment-free atmosphere that allowed me to realize this.
I have been back to Maine Youth Leadership as a facilitator a number of times over the years since I first attended in 1999. Last weekend, I returned and was reminded of the power of creating an environment free of judgment.
I was moved to be among these young people in a place where they didn’t have to be shy about their aspirations, where they could realize they’re not crazy and where they understood their voices should really be counted. It’s a notion that can seem lofty and ridiculous in our daily lives, even in adulthood.
What I especially like about Maine Youth Leadership is the range of experiences offered to the students, including a wide range of seminars led by business leaders, public officials and others. Returning to the program this year was Sen. Angus King, who charismatically gave a lecture on character. He has long been a favorite of attendees.
In addition to seminars, there’s an interactive role play about prejudice and privilege. Participants report that this activity changes their perspective substantially. It brings to mind the aphorism about walking a mile in someone else’s shoes before judging him or her. There’s also a day devoted to volunteerism.
These are the things I most remember about my experience as a sophomore — my first in-depth peek into how the world works. My first examination of how I might spend my life. And my first opportunity to contemplate it without being judged. It was the first place where I was able to see myself in the world without fearing ridicule for thinking so loftily.
The students who go through the long weekend report that it is not at all what they expected. They don’t expect to become so attached to each other. They don’t expect to come to love each other. They don’t expect to be bestowed with the luxury of community.
One student said that it was even better than the “nerd camp” she expected and to which she was looking forward.
Part of the beauty of the program is that every school selects its “ambassador” to the program differently. Some send students who are already “leaders” in a traditional sense. Others send students who they believe might benefit from the positive atmosphere offered by the program. Some send young women who are hoping for nerd camp. It’s a place where you’ll find students spanning the spectrum: cheerleaders, art nerds, student councilors, quiet kids, steel-toe-booted outdoorsmen and more. Despite their differences that tend to be the focus back at home, they tend to leave in tears, wondering what they are going to do without each other.
This is all possible through donations and thousands of volunteer hours but, most importantly, by all of these forces coming together to provide a safe environment for the students.
We hear this repeatedly:
“I was able to do this because I wasn’t being judged.”
“I was able to volunteer because I wasn’t afraid I would be judged.”
“I was able, for the first time in my life, to understand who I truly am, and to begin to be that person, because I knew I wouldn’t be judged.”
In a way, it breaks my heart to send these students back to their schools because, even at its best, high school is an environment saturated with hostile skepticism. But we send them back after helping them realize who they are. They can bring that back to school with them and, when it gets hard, they have each other. And, hopefully, they bring some of that enthusiasm for life back to school and fight to create an environment in which others are free to be themselves.
We call them ambassadors because they are supposed to bring their experiences back home with them and share what they’ve learned.
I think of Maine Youth Leadership this year in the context of Caitlyn Jenner and those who mistakenly believe they are in a position to judge her identity. I think of the program in the context of all those trans people who don’t have Jenner’s wealth or celebrity. And then I think of these students at a campus in Maine, afforded a weekend in which they are granted asylum from judgment, and how beautiful the accompanying self-realization can be.
What prevents us from fighting to grant this luxury to each other daily? What are we so afraid of? If 120 15-year-olds from throughout Maine were able to commit to forgoing judgment — to be beautiful and create something beautiful by doing so — why don’t we give it a shot?
Alex Steed has written about and engaged in politics since he was a teenager. He’s an owner-partner of a Portland-based content production company and lives with his family, dogs and garden in Cornish.
