I Found My Fountain of Youth!

With apologies to Ponce de Leon and plastic surgeons, I have discovered the real Fountain of Youth. It’s spending time with young people.

I made this fortuitous discovery just the other day as I peered into the glowing, unlined face of a student I was working with. Actually, two things hit me. The first was that I was 50 years her senior! Five-zero. Half a century. Yikes!

Now, no matter how you look at it, a 50-year age spread is a Grand Canyon-wide age difference but still, sitting there, elbow-to-elbow, I realized how alive, vital, and, most important of all, needed I felt.

My Fountain of Youth Joy

I was working with her because I’m lucky enough to be a writing coach at my local university’s journalism school.

Two days a week, come rain, shine, or snow, I help fledgling reporters hone their skills. We discuss how to write compelling headlines, conduct interviews, and organize stories.

This coaching gig is a late-in-life new experience. I boast no august professorial title, so I get away with saying non-professorial things like, “Oh, this is boring. If you were scrolling through articles on your phone, would you read a story with a headline like this?”

Somehow, this non-nurturing honesty works! The students, in fact, love it. They appreciate the truth, and because they genuinely care about their writing, they lean forward, eyes bright, ready to improve their “copy.” They want people to read their articles. So, fixing a dull headline matters. Improving a long-winded “lede” paragraph does too.

My Amazing Students

As for their work ethic, it is astonishing. Even after they get grades on assignments, they bring their stories back. “Let’s go over it again. I want to make it better and try to get it published.”

They tackle big subjects. Their sense of justice and injustice is profound. They examine sexual abuse, hunger, gender rights, and homelessness on campus and in the community. They don’t just detail problems, they seek out solutions. And they are hopeful.

The students don’t write in the abstract. They write from experience. Many come from broken homes. Some have known abuse, poverty, or hunger. Golden, protected childhoods seem in short supply.

Because of challenging personal lives, schoolwork isn’t all we talk about.

Bravery and Demons

These fledgling journalists always start discussing the challenges of their latest assignments, but faster than you can say “breaking news,” their conversations frequently veer into the personal — the deeply personal.

In whispered voices in the noisy public Writing Center, they confess fears and problems.

It takes my breath away how open and vulnerable they are. It scares me how much confidence they place in me, a stranger, to help them.

One girl came out to me, saying she had no one else to talk to. One boy told me he was being bullied because of a speech impediment. Still another said he felt “rootless.” At first, I didn’t understand. Then, I did. He needed mental health counseling, probably quickly. I gently suggested that and gave him the numbers for the crisis-suicide hotline and my cell phone.

Honesty and Pain

Another wrote about coping with grief and loneliness as a first-semester freshman on campus when her grandmother died. She hadn’t made friends yet. Didn’t know about campus or community support services. Her story detailed those services to ensure that no one else experienced similar isolation.

A soft-spoken 5’1” 115-pound girl wanted to buy a knife because she felt unsafe walking to work at night. We talked about better options.

After conversations like these, I worry. Did I say the right thing? Did I stumble? Overstep or not do enough?

Yet, don’t get the wrong idea. These sessions aren’t all serious and sad. Many students write spirited stories full of possibilities, intellectual, artistic, and entrepreneurial.

The Fountain of Youth Overflows with Laughter

We laugh a lot, too. In fact, “my” students laugh at me a lot!

One wrote about “reels,” which, as any young adult can tell you, relates to Instagram, TikTok, and short films. I didn’t know, and when I asked, the boy couldn’t stop giggling for five minutes.

The other day, I asked a student about the colorful sweatshirt the student was wearing, and the cartoon character displayed on it. I got an eye roll at my ignorance and delivered a 20-minute “lecture” on anime. It’s now the subject of a feature story the student is writing.

Each time I walk away from these sessions, I find myself humming “Getting to Know You,” Anna’s song about her students from “The King and I.”

Learning is a Two-way Street

“It’s a very ancient saying, but a true and honest thought, that if you become a teacher by your pupils, you’ll be taught.”

I’m certainly learning from my students. Mostly, though, I’m re-learning optimism. My students also remind me of the Torah’s admonitions to be kind and compassionate — the most important lessons of all.

I may not have known what reels were, but thanks to these half-a-century-younger-than-I students, this job keeps things real for me. It — and they — keep me focused on the present and the future, not the weepy past. With them, I forget about my aches, pains, vanities, and fears. They truly are my Fountain of Youth.

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