Enter the children.
Children don't purposefully do anything for utility. Everything is an opportunity to be observed, eaten, or spoken to. Hoping Hynes would quickly approach, I stood there nervously as a nearby mother of one sat down with baby in stroller. I thought, "Please, no... just... DANGIT." She sat and turned the stroller right towards me. "Great. Now what do I do? He's staring right at me. He? Or is it she? I can never tell when they're that young. That's why I don't say anything... moms are sick of little Jennifer being admired for dad's strong jaw and future in baseball." Silence, except for the subway clatter. "I mean, what do I DO? S/he just keeps looking at me, waiting for me to do something. I mean, what am I supposed to do, entertain them? Nod approvingly as though I relate to mom's maternal attachment to her child? Make a balloon animal? STOP STARING AT ME!"
***
I wonder if you can relate. Especially in college, everyone else around me seemed to know instinctively what to do with kids, and I didn't relate to any of it. I only really knew how to be me, if that. On a plane, at the store, at work: you can't escape them, and they're looking at you. Well if you're like me, you feel compelled to rise to the occasion. It's a tendency I'm calling the Ronald McDonald syndrome. It's that urge inside of you to act like a clown to elicit a response from a staring child.
I suspect Children's Ministry strikes many, many people (especially males) as some kind of Ronald McDonald hell, where they'll have to be someone they're not for all eternity, entertaining children with an extremely limited amount of natural talent. Who you are becomes not as important as who XYZ church requires you to be. "They're all going to stare at me, and I won't know what to do," is possibly one of the greatest fears to newcomers.
Two sobering questions for thought/conversation: is this actually true of your organization? That is, will volunteers indeed know what to expect and do? Second, what would your organization look like if you spoke meaningfully to this fear, relentlessly and clearly? That is, if people knew exactly what your organization was like, do you think they'd want to come?
Children don't purposefully do anything for utility. Everything is an opportunity to be observed, eaten, or spoken to. Hoping Hynes would quickly approach, I stood there nervously as a nearby mother of one sat down with baby in stroller. I thought, "Please, no... just... DANGIT." She sat and turned the stroller right towards me. "Great. Now what do I do? He's staring right at me. He? Or is it she? I can never tell when they're that young. That's why I don't say anything... moms are sick of little Jennifer being admired for dad's strong jaw and future in baseball." Silence, except for the subway clatter. "I mean, what do I DO? S/he just keeps looking at me, waiting for me to do something. I mean, what am I supposed to do, entertain them? Nod approvingly as though I relate to mom's maternal attachment to her child? Make a balloon animal? STOP STARING AT ME!"
***
I wonder if you can relate. Especially in college, everyone else around me seemed to know instinctively what to do with kids, and I didn't relate to any of it. I only really knew how to be me, if that. On a plane, at the store, at work: you can't escape them, and they're looking at you. Well if you're like me, you feel compelled to rise to the occasion. It's a tendency I'm calling the Ronald McDonald syndrome. It's that urge inside of you to act like a clown to elicit a response from a staring child.
I suspect Children's Ministry strikes many, many people (especially males) as some kind of Ronald McDonald hell, where they'll have to be someone they're not for all eternity, entertaining children with an extremely limited amount of natural talent. Who you are becomes not as important as who XYZ church requires you to be. "They're all going to stare at me, and I won't know what to do," is possibly one of the greatest fears to newcomers.Two sobering questions for thought/conversation: is this actually true of your organization? That is, will volunteers indeed know what to expect and do? Second, what would your organization look like if you spoke meaningfully to this fear, relentlessly and clearly? That is, if people knew exactly what your organization was like, do you think they'd want to come?
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