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Stories of Kids on the Fringe

There was a time in youth ministry when the group dynamics at church mirrored the group dynamics at school. The teens who were popular jocks and cheerleaders at school were also popular at church. In fact, during that same time period, many youth ministers would focus their outreach efforts on this popular crowd—knowing that if the popular kids thought church was cool all the other kids would follow them. It doesn’t work that way any more. A student that may be considered “fringe" in one youth group may not be in another. In an effort to show various “types" of fringe kids who fall somewhere between the categories of “at-risk" and “core kids," I’ve decided to tell stories about students who either were or are on the fringe of groups I’ve worked with. The names have been changed, but the stories are true. They depict our ministry’s successes and failures. After reading through the stories, you may recognize some common threads—things teens respond to. Those are the attributes that need to be incorporated into our ministries as we seek to draw in those who might otherwise fall through the proverbial crack. Let the storytelling begin.

Shy Kids

Melanie was the ultimate introvert. She was very soft-spoken, had only a handful of close friends, and rarely initiated anything—including conversation. After attending our church for a couple of months, she mustered enough courage to introduce herself to the high school pastor and ask, “How do I get more involved if I’m shy?" The high school pastor introduced her to me. Not knowing how else to answer her question, I invited her to my small group Bible study.

That small group was comprised of six high school girls, all in the same grade, but all attending different schools. Three of the girls had grown up in the church and three were fairly new to our youth group. Over the course of time and shared activities, the girls grew close. They began to get together outside of our group meeting times. I met with each of them individually, as well, so I could stay up-to-date on what was happening in their lives. Melanie felt connected enough to invite her little sister to church with her. Her sister decided to follow Christ as a middle schooler.

Now, Melanie is married to one of the guys from the youth group, she participated with Campus Crusade for Christ mission trips while in college, and she still talks to some of the girls from that small group on occasion. She’s still shy, but she’s found her place in the Body.

Pretty Party Girls

Some of the guys in our youth group were at the mall one day “picking up girls" when they met some blonde-headed beauties. They chatted for a while and invited the girls to church. Amanda and Susie showed up the following Sunday. Not only did they show up, but they sat on the front row during Sunday school. Under most circumstances, we would have been encouraged by this. However, these girls (who come from unchurched backgrounds as far as we know) were…how shall we say…scantily clad.

The girls in the group wouldn’t approach Amanda and Susie because they were jealous of the attention their guy friends were paying to these new girls. The guys in the group were just plain distracted. Those who took the pursuit of holiness seriously steered clear because they didn’t want to objectify the girls. Others just blatantly flirted with them. As leaders, we struggled with the distraction factor and the fear of expecting too much from those who did not yet know Christ.

Regardless of their “fringeness," the girls continued coming. Susie began dating one of the guys from the mall, so that seemed to be her motivation. Amanda, however, seemed more spiritually curious. Gradually some of the girls from the group got to know her beyond her appearance. She spent some time with various volunteers she got to know on the annual ski trip. Now she’s in a small Broup bible study with other girls her age.

Recently, Amanda volunteered at a middle school outreach event. Her gradual spiritual growth is evident. Susie, on the other hand, broke up with the mall boy and hasn’t been to church since.

Bi-polar

Jared looked like a cuddly teddy bear. He was a little soft in the middle with rosy cheeks that contrasted with the fair skin typical for one with red hair like his. His eyes squinted when he would smile—which wasn’t very often.

He was an angry young man—at least that’s what we were told. Jared had been in trouble at school for fighting, angry outbursts, and threats of violence to teachers. We never saw any of that at church. Of course, Jared’s attendance was different than most of the students. He would faithfully attend on Wednesday evenings, but never join the group—preferring to sit in the lobby and scare the middle schoolers meeting in the next room or talk about his fantasy Dungeons and Dragons/video game world with any listening volunteer.

Our volunteers were great. Many tried to break through Jared’s anger and pursue him—rarely knowing how. Some even continued trying to connect with him when he was put in jail for assault, visiting him on occasion. But the visits decreased in frequency until they ceased altogether. Then, a little over a year ago, we got a call from Jared. He wanted to volunteer to work with students. I didn’t call him back, because I didn’t know how to say, “We’re afraid to let you be with students because of your history of assault. By the way, how have you been?"

Poor Hygiene

Lyn is the ideal candidate for a makeover. She’s cut her hair once in the ten years I’ve known her. And I’ve seen her brush it about as often. In middle school, she was one of the girls on mission trips who I had to remind to shower—and even then I’m not sure she did. I guess people had been mean to her—perhaps calling her a nerd or telling her she smelled or any other number or cruel truths middle schoolers are so good at noticing—because she was almost always defensive in her conversations. That was when you could get her to talk.

Lyn had a difficult communication style. Her “negative-bordering-on-bitter" tone permeated even the most casual of conversations. She was a master of one-word answers and “I don’t know’s." As a result, talking to Lyn was a challenge. She was one that youth ministers tolerate because we love students, but we never really “get" her. That was until I saw her on the ski slopes.

Evidently Lyn had grown up skiing. She didn’t head for the black diamonds or anything, but she was confident of her abilities. This made her the perfect ski buddy for those who had never skied before or who were uncomfortable doing so (like me). She was so patient and so encouraging to all the new skiers—and to me. She only laughed with us, which was saying a lot considering how we were skiing. And in the midst of it all, she did not have the defensiveness about her. She was confident and comfortable and gentle.

So when Lyn applied for our Student Leadership Team 18 months later I had no problem putting her on the team. During the time on the team, there were still times when her input to discussions was curt or harsh or non-existent, but her mother helped me to understand something. Lyn doesn’t like to talk in groups at all, and she won’t if she feels like she won’t be heard or understood. I shared this enlightenment with her Bible study leader, as well. Gradually, and with much encouragement and coaxing, Lyn began to be a positive part of discussions. In so doing, her circle of friends grew. My best guess is that the circle of friends can be credited for addressing the hygiene issues.

Less Obviously Gifted

Many times, youth groups are actually archetypes of the church body of which they are a part. For instance, in the average church approximately 20 percent of the people do 80 percent of the work/service. The same holds true in the youth group—or at least it did in our youth group. The more talented students were asked to lead worship and a small group Bible study and be camp counselors and be on Student Leadership Team and lead the drama team on the mission trip. Students whose giftedness and abilities were more hidden frequently missed out on opportunities to belong and minister.

Tyler was an exception. He was a quiet and gentle young man who tried to balance his bowl cut and glasses with a leather jacket and motorcycle shirts. He could have been the poster child for students who “fall through the cracks" of some larger ministries. But the volunteer who was leading worship for the high school group on Sunday mornings somehow discovered that Tyler played guitar. This fabulous volunteer recruited Tyler to help play on Sundays. I don’t think he missed a Sunday. He was always on time for rehearsals and was never guilty of “performance syndrome."

The problem was that Tyler had very little rhythm. But being part of the worship team kept him plugged in to the youth group. So the volunteer and the sound guy always made sure that Tyler’s amp was turned down enough to not be a distraction. Tyler didn’t seem to mind, and his rhythm eventually got better.

Hearing Impaired

When Ricky began coming to the middle school group, his mom would come with him to sign. Once he got the feel of how activities happened, he informed his mom that he would rather her not come with him. Like a typical middle schooler, he thought it was embarrassing. As we learned how/what Ricky could actually hear and how well he could read lips, we did what we could to adapt for him.

One young man would take Ricky under his wing and explain the games or show him what to do next. That was great until that young man moved up to the high school group. Ricky didn’t let that stop him, though. He would participate in discussions on Sunday morning (with the help of the interpreters, whom he allowed on Sundays) and was inspiring during worship times—standing and signing his worship.

When Ricky moved up to the high school group, though, it seemed more difficult for him. The high schoolers seemed too busy to help him figure out how to be independent of his interpreter. He didn’t seem to want anything to do with the young lady in the group who knew how to sign. But his sense of humor remained intact. His mom told one of the volunteers that it was Ricky’s birthday one Sunday morning. So, without thinking, the volunteer shared this information with the whole group and led them in singing “Happy Birthday" to Ricky. About halfway through the song she realized that singing to a hearing impaired person is a rather silly idea and could be hurtful if not received properly. Ricky was a good sport and grinned through the entire song.

Minorities

Our youth group is a very white, very middle class youth group—much to my dismay, because it represents neither a cross section of our community nor a cross section of what heaven will be like. Regardless, that is the demographic. So when Nicole came one Sunday morning, I was very much aware that it was her first time. A very bright, soft-spoken, poised, African American young lady, Nicole’s family had recently started visiting our church because Nicole wanted to.

Nicole attended a rather affluent private school in the area that was predominantly made up of white students. Her parents, wanting her to understand and appreciate her African heritage, had been attending an African American congregation. For various reasons, the family decided to visit different churches. Because I was very aware that the only African American in the room was visiting that Sunday morning, I assumed all the students and volunteers would notice and welcome her as well. I was wrong.

In an attempt to remedy that situation, I would try to introduce Nicole to someone who had something in common with her each Sunday. One Sunday I took her to lunch. We had a wonderful discussion about her goals and her heritage. She is looking to be the next Barbara Walters. She loves to dance. She is versed in current events. I encouraged her to not give up on the youth group, to maybe try a small group or a service project to get to know some of the other students better. The following Sunday she spoke up during the lesson for the first time. I thought we’d made a breakthrough. She attended a couple of times after that, but that was it.

Genius Kids

Randy was more mature looking than most of his middle school counterparts. His behavior, though, was still very much “early adolescent." I remember him raising his hand to respond to something I’d said during a lesson. When called on, he responded with something like “a blend between polyester and corduroy." That, of course, had nothing to do with what I had been talking about. But at the time I remember thinking that it was an unusually smart, random thing for a middle school guy to say.

I later discovered that he enjoyed drawing Japanese animation and that he was actually trying to teach himself Japanese so he could read the comic books in their original language. (Sounds like a future seminarian, doesn’t it?) As time progressed and I got to know Randy better, I was able to clarify with him why he was raising his hand. “Is this a random funny comment or a question pertaining to the topic at hand?" He always answered honestly and would grin when I wouldn’t allow him to make the random funny comments until after the lesson. When his question was related to what we were discussing, it was more often than not thought-provoking—frequently going over the heads of his peers.

Because of his intellectual giftedness, Randy had difficulty relating to his peers. He would much rather hang out with students three or four years older than him. This was a challenge, since middle schoolers and high schoolers met separately and because Randy’s social maturity didn’t match his intellect. However, one of the high school guys had some similar interests and a ministry mindset, so he took Randy under his wing.

Randy was much less of a fringe kid when he promoted to the high school ministry. But as time progresses and his older peers graduate and move away, there’s the chance that Randy will want to disconnect or hang out with the college students. One of these days, maybe his maturity will catch up with his intellect. In the meantime, he tinkers on the edge of the fringe.

Undiagnosed Weirdness

The first time I saw Courtney was when she was in elementary school and attended our church’s day camp. I was in charge of games, and she was a kid who danced to the beat of a different drummer. When she was old enough for the middle school group, I would frequently find her one of two places: playing with the copy machine in the office or stealing donuts out of the college class. Rarely would she listen to a lesson. Most often she was by herself, but there were times when another fringe kid would join her. Theirs was a love/hate relationship that involved chasing each other around the building…literally.

One morning, however, I noticed that Courtney was surrounded by students in the lobby. Upon further investigation I realized that she was a holding a small bird in her hand. I remember thinking to myself, “She’s gonna kill this poor bird." Any bird slow enough and dumb enough to be caught by a sixth grade girl is not long for this world. The students had gathered to see her feathered friend. She told me she was going to take it to her house so it would “get better." I explained to her that we couldn’t have a bird in the building during Sunday School—especially if it decided to fly out of her hand (and I’d seen a couple of feeble attempts by the creature). I told her she could leave it just outside the door where it would be safe and she could find it after Sunday School. She agreed, and out the door we went. Setting the bird gently on the ground, Courtney had just enough time to step back before the bird flew away. Instead of being upset she said, “Good. He’s okay. I guess he just needed to be warmed up." That was that. She never said another word about it.

Courtney endured middle school and never really got connected in the high school group—although she would show up for the donuts. I spoke with her father on more than one occasion as we tried to think of some way to get her involved/connected. One of my volunteers had told me that Courtney reminded her of herself at that age. We discussed the possibility of a mentorship. That never happened. Courtney did come on a day retreat we had, so I took the opportunity to find out what interested her, thinking maybe we could get her plugged into a ministry role of some sort. She enjoyed film and animation and was excited about a class at her school that allowed her to explore the fields. I mentioned the possibility of using some of what she was learning at church, but she wasn’t interested. She’d only come on the retreat because her dad made her. Although some of the students tried to talk to her and include her in their conversations, rarely did she accept their offerings.

I still see Courtney at church every once in a while. At one point the children’s minister called me to tell me Courtney had been hiding in one of the classrooms listening to the radio during the sermon. Courtney’s style of dress and interactions with others (or lack thereof) leads me to believe that she likes being a loner. Whether or not that’s true, I didn’t know what else to do to pull her from the fringe.

Obnoxious

Sam was the kid most adults are afraid of when you ask them to volunteer in middle school ministry. He was hyper, didn’t follow instructions well, talked or threw paper during the lesson…you get the idea. One night he and one of his friends were literally running in circles in our meeting room and antagonizing another kid. I told them to stop, but they didn’t. So I chased them down and stopped them myself. They laughed, called me their parole officer, and cooperated the rest of the evening.

When he was a freshman in high school, Sam was attending a Wednesday night talk I was giving. As I was introducing a movie clip about repentance, I made the mistake of mentioning that the clip was from the movie Simon Birch. Sam, in a high pitched, squeaky voice, said, “I’m sooorrrryy" as the lights dimmed for the clip. Everyone laughed—especially when they realized he was quoting the exact clip. It ruined the illustration.

In his later high school days, Sam was with some of his friends when one of them said, “Sam, you’ve matured a lot. You’re not nearly as obnoxious." He made some comment about having finally convinced his parents to put him on ADHD medications. Before, he shared, he would do something and know that it was obnoxious and dumb, but he was unable to stop himself. At some point Sam experimented with the party scene and fell away from his walk with Christ and with those of us at the church. But when his mother died, we made great efforts to contact and encourage him. He would later say that our consistency in his life and our support during his grief helped him to get back on track.

Socially challenged

The first time I met James he was standing in a corner watching the other students interact. His clothes were outdated, his face pimply, and his hair in the shape of an upside-down bowl. He stood with his hands in his pockets, rarely making eye contact with anyone who happened to speak to him. It came to our attention that his parents were going through a divorce. Since I had been through a similar situation, I tried to get him to talk about it—about anything.

Our first conversation was more along the lines of what you would expect from a middle school boy—grunted, monosyllabic answers. Evidently that conversation started something, though. Each time we spoke after that, more syllables were added to his side of the conversation. In between those lopsided discussions, James began attending an accountability group of guys led by one of the interns. As James got to know and be known by those guys, he began to come out of his shell a little more.

He began taking some martial arts classes and lost some weight. (Funny sidenote: During his martial arts phase, the police showed up to a youth group function with their dogs and rifles after the security system picked up a sound they thought was breaking glass. In reality, it was James throwing his Chinese Star at a large bulletin board. When it would fall to the tile floor, evidently it sounded like breaking glass.) But what really lit a fire under James was evangelism. Back then (before we got kicked out by mall security), there was maybe one Sunday a month that we would meet at a nearby mall to share the gospel with people. James thrived on this and was very upset when security intervened. Then there were the mission trips to South Padre Island during Spring Break. Again, James loved having the opportunity to share the gospel with anyone and everyone—regardless of their blood alcohol levels.

As time progressed, James got a job, finished high school, and moved away to college. In the past couple of years, his drama team did an evangelistic presentation for our youth group. James coordinated the whole thing and emceed the event. He played Jesus in one of the sketches. I had to laugh to myself when I heard one of the girls in the current youth group say, “Jesus is hot!" From nerdy wallflower to “hot" evangelist, James’ personality blossomed more than any other student I’ve observed.

Tiffany Marshall is a 15-year youth ministry veteran. She writes curriculum, speaks for various camps/retreats, and is a substitute teacher.