For a lock down situation, there was a lot happening on our one block road. Neighbors are replacing their roof, and the view from my sewing machine is prime for keeping an eye on young men who apparently have no fear of being twenty five feet in the air without rope. The array of trucks to support them would make any four year old jump for joy, delivering lumber and hauling away old shingles. Just then a floral delivery van tried to squeeze past, no doubt bringing cheer to a family whose son is in the hospital. The twins and Zack were suited up with keys in hand for the bi monthly trek for groceries, when they realized that the car had gotten tired of being ignored and refused to start. They fetched cables and propped the hoods, but were unsuccessful at coaxing Kiwi's engine to turn over. They climbed into another car. Plus I had a batch of sour dough cinnamon rolls rising in the kitchen, that I kept periodically prodding into action. If you can call rising "action". 

 

Amidst all of this kerfuffle my nephew called. I have been hoping to hear about his new job as a wilderness Field Instructor. Red Cliff Ascent provides therapy for teenagers who have lost their way. When families, or the foster care system have run out of ideas, they pour buckets of money into sending their beloved teenager... or in the case of neglected kids not so beloved... into the mountains of Utah. There are entitled kids whose parents shove their credit cards toward anyone who can handle their angry, addicted daughter. Middle class parents whose son is ripping apart the family empty their life savings as a last ditch effort to liberate their child from self destruction. Others are teens who have felt ignored for too long and refuse to jump start.  In the wilderness they come up against the natural consequences of rain, sticks, and mud. 

 

There are no punishments. Neither is there shaming. It is just a chance for kids who have become mired in hurtful behavior to be plucked out of society, and plopped into the woods. In that context they are faced with an entirely novel set of expectations. Being cool, or trendy, on Instagram or even clean has dropped to the bottom of the list of priorities. Being competent takes on fresh meaning. 

 

The bow in your hands has no attitude. You can respect its power to ignite, or stay cold. The tarp in your pack does not react to insults, or verbal manipulation. If you hope to build a shelter before dark, get hustling and find sturdy trunks to tether it to. Neither the tarp nor nightfall care either way. 

 

Cliff Red Ascent is not only about work. There is time to laugh by the campfire, climb twenty feet in the air, and even do crafts in the afternoon. Kids are asked to journal, and write their own biography to read for the group. The sweet memories and the excruciating ones are all part of the story. Perhaps the process of hearing it out loud puts each teen in a position to choose what comes next. 

 

One girl was only two fires away from graduation. She had started them before, but her impatience got in the way and she hurled the bow across the rocks. It broke. My nephew waited until she was ready, and helped her surrender to the process of finding more sticks, and a place to begin anew. It was hard and he was not going to do it for her. But eventually she succeeded in sparking the tinder. A huge grin rose slowly across her face. 

 

Sometimes the kids are full of questions. 

 

"How far are we hiking tomorrow?"

 

"When will we come back to base camp?"

 

"When will I be ready to graduate?"

 

My nephew said the answers do not always bring satisfaction. 
 

"Focus on this moment."

 

One of the guidelines is the need to ask permission. For kids who have never heard the word "no", or maybe the word "yes" the structure of asking their leader what they may do is pivotal. There is a culture of respect, with no room for ridicule or self pity. 

 

The average stay for an experience that is anything but is two months, though it has been known to extend to five. My nephew has signed up for a year, which it turns out will include winter in the high desert.

 

I find it curious, that these circumstances sound so familiar. Perhaps we will all look back and realize that we too have ascended.