I like to help kids, work with kids in detention homes. Don't

Host: The late afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows on the worn floorboards of the small community center. The soft hum of conversation and the distant shuffle of footsteps echoed in the air. Jack sat in a corner, his legs stretched out, his posture relaxed, though his mind seemed distant, caught in a place he couldn’t quite reach. Jeeny sat opposite him, a notebook open in front of her, her pen tapping lightly against the page, waiting for him to speak.

Host: After a long pause, Jack finally exhaled, the weight of his thoughts hanging heavily in the air between them.

Jack: “You ever hear the quote from Evel Knievel? He said, ‘I like to help kids, work with kids in detention homes. Don’t tell a kid what’s right and wrong. He knows what’s right and wrong. Find out what his attitude and his aptitude are; try to help him where he wants to go.’ I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like... what if we’re going about things all wrong? What if telling people what’s right and wrong isn’t enough?”

Jeeny’s gaze softened, her eyes locking with his. She set the notebook down, her posture shifting, as if she were listening not just with her ears, but with a deeper understanding.

Jeeny: “I think he’s got a point. Kids, or anyone really, don’t need to be told what’s right or wrong — they already know that. It’s more about understanding where they’re coming from, what they’re dealing with, and what they need to move forward. If you just tell someone what to do without getting to the heart of who they are, you miss the whole point of helping them.”

Host: The atmosphere between them seemed to shift, the weight of the conversation hanging like a veil between their words. Jack leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, as though he was finally starting to grapple with the meaning of what he had just said.

Jack: “But how do you do that, though? How do you find out where they want to go without pushing your own idea of what’s ‘right’? It’s like… sometimes we’re so caught up in teaching people what we think they should know, we forget they might have their own path they need to follow.”

Jeeny tilted her head slightly, her eyes thoughtful, her voice carrying the weight of someone who had thought about this deeply herself.

Jeeny: “It’s about listening, Jack. Not just hearing what they say, but really paying attention to their actions, to their attitude, their thoughts. People, especially kids, don’t always know how to express exactly what they need. But if you pay attention, if you really get to know them, you can find out where their heart is, where their true potential lies. It’s about meeting them where they are, not where you think they should be.”

Host: The room seemed to grow quieter, the words between them falling heavy, like a soft rain outside, soaking into the space. Jack’s eyes drifted to the floor, his mind clearly working through the layers of meaning in her words. After a moment, he looked up again, his voice tinged with a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

Jack: “But what if they don’t even know where they want to go? What if they’ve never had the chance to even think about it? You can’t just leave someone adrift, can you? There’s got to be some guidance, some direction, right?”

Jeeny’s expression softened, but there was a quiet firmness to her response, like she was guiding him through something that had taken her years to understand.

Jeeny: “I think the key is to give them the tools to figure it out themselves. You can’t live their life for them, Jack. It’s not about showing them exactly what to do; it’s about creating space for them to find their own answers. People, especially kids, need to feel like they have control over their own future, even if they don’t have all the answers yet. It’s about showing them that they have the power to shape their own story, even when things seem uncertain.”

Host: The light in the room shifted as the conversation took on a more personal tone, a shift that seemed to bring a sense of intimacy between the two. Jack sat back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful, the quiet hum of the space around them becoming more distant as he absorbed her words.

Jack: “So it’s about trusting them to figure things out. To help them find their own way, even when it’s not the way you would have chosen.”

Jeeny smiled, the warmth in her eyes unmistakable. She leaned back, her voice now gentle, as if she were speaking from a place of both experience and understanding.

Jeeny: “Exactly. It’s not about fixing their problems. It’s about showing them that they can fix them themselves. And sometimes, the best way to do that is to step back and let them lead — help them see that they’re capable of more than they think.”

Host: The conversation hung in the air, the words between them like whispers, light but meaningful. Jack’s expression softened, as if he were beginning to understand something deeper, something that reached beyond the surface of simple advice.

Jack: “Maybe we try to teach the answers instead of the questions. Maybe that’s where we mess up. If we just focus on helping people ask the right questions, instead of giving them all the answers, maybe they’ll figure out where they need to go on their own.”

Jeeny: “I think that’s exactly it. We don’t need to give them all the answers. We just need to help them figure out how to ask the right questions. And if we can do that, we give them something more valuable than advice — we give them the tools to grow on their own.”

Host: The silence that followed was calm, almost peaceful. The light from the windows deepened as the day slipped into evening, and in that quiet moment, both Jack and Jeeny understood that sometimes the best way to help someone — especially a kid in a tough place — wasn’t to dictate what they should do, but to listen, to guide, and most importantly, to let them discover their own path forward.