Miss Yoga Goes to Juvenile Hall
One Woman’s Extraordinary Experiences

The Interview

Gyandev McCord

How did you get involved with teens in juvenile detention?

Karen Barbarick

After I finished Ananda Yoga Teacher Training in April 2000, I wanted to start teaching right away. I went to a bunch of different places—my church, gyms, yoga studios—but nothing panned out.

Then I remembered that two years earlier, I’d met a woman who taught in the community schools. I’d told her that I was studying Ayurveda, doing yoga, and, as an outlet for all my energy, racing off-road vehicles and watercraft. Because of this (teenagers love off-road vehicles—very empowering) and my other background, she encouraged me to become a mentor of troubled teens.

Gyandev

What “other background”?

Karen

My college major was communications, mainly interpersonal and small group communications. That, plus having a past of my own, gave me the understanding of where the teens were coming from, and how to work with them. And besides, I have kind of a teenage mentality, even now at age 35 [laughs].

So when teaching yoga wasn’t happening fast enough for me, I reconnected with that woman I’d met. She gave me a contact at Placer County Health and Human Services for the mentorship training. I met the people, filled out the paperwork, got fingerprinted, took the training, and six months later, there I was at juvenile hall.

Gyandev

It took you six months just to get in the door?

Karen

To volunteer, right. They’re not real open to yoga. Yet they bring church volunteers right in without their having to go through all that red tape.

Anyway, I went in for my first class without much planning: the basics of yoga and Ayurveda, and some postures, but I really I didn’t know what to expect. There were a lot of people watching from behind a one-way mirror. They were skeptical because their impression of yoga was that it was a religion or a cult, and they wanted to see what I would do. I met a lot of resistance, and I’m sure it was just based in fear.

Gyandev

How many kids were there?

Karen

20 kids, boys and girls. They keep the boys and girls very separate from each other. Girls can’t bend over with the boys looking, so we had to have an awkward-shaped class, with me in the middle of two separate groups. It was challenging to teach and keep an eye on all the students.

Gyandev

Did these kids want to be in the class, or did they have to be?

Karen

A little of both. Some had resistance or said, “Yoga is against my religion.” But it was better than sitting in their cells, so they came. Most were very quiet and attentive.

Gyandev

How did you start out that first class?

Karen

I told them my name and my background. I had to be careful because they get really inquisitive about my story, and I’m not there to tell them my story. So I told them about how I moved out on my own at a very young age, that I went to college, and what I’d experienced in my life.

I said that I was very graced considering what I had come from. I’d needed to channel my energy, so I got involved in sports, which led to yoga as well as Polaris watercraft racing, plus my husband’s and my Polaris shop, plus racing off-road vehicles.

Gyandev

I’ll bet that got their attention.

Karen

Sure did. I had to entice them, interest them in me. If I had come in all airy fairy, it wouldn’t work.

Then I got into what yoga is: union. I talked about the nervous system and how rigid, constricted behaviors often parallel the rigid constriction in our spine. I said that if we can just loosen up and relax a little, we can be more whole as human beings. I explained how yoga helps us see the big picture, get a healthier perspective on life, and that the point is to expand our consciousness. I introduced Ayurveda and some Sanskrit. They really liked that. I told them about the chakras, and how, if a chakra is blocked, certain behavior can result, so we need to get ourselves in line.

Gyandev

Wow, that’s a lot to throw at them!

Karen

I said, “Fasten your seat belts, ’cause we’re goin’!” It’s a challenge to keep their attention. They gravitate to the floor. That’s the first thing I noticed: they got lower and lower until they were lying down while listening to me. I had to tell them to sit up. You see, they don’t know how to sit or relax or breathe, so I had to keep talking and entertain them. A lot of them were paying attention, and I think that on some level they got it. Maybe in 10 years they’ll really get it.

Gyandev

What had these kids done to get themselves in jail?

Karen

Some had stolen their parents’ cars and their parents put them in jail, or they had vandalized, or taken a weapon to school, or had been caught with drugs or fighting. Fighting is a big one—fighting, stealing, all the yamas.

I learned the hard way that I shouldn’t ask individuals about their stories. There was one boy who was so sweet, so attentive, so wise. Why was he there? Well, I asked, and it turns out he was a peeper. That made me realize that I don’t need to know each person’s story.

I told them that I’ve seen that, for every quality we have that seems to be from the dark side, we have a corresponding virtue that wants to get out, and it’s just a matter of unfolding it. Instead of dwelling on the bad stuff, I’d say, “Okay, you did that, so you have this going for you, and we just need to get it working right.” They really connected with that. I had to keep them busy with their minds; otherwise they would fall asleep—just gravitate to the floor, and next thing you know, it was “lights out.”

Gyandev

Did they have a sense that they had personal problems?

Karen

Not at first, but that changed when I said, “Everybody here who is suffering raise your hand.” All of them raised their hand, so they realized that in some sense they were suffering.

Gyandev

Did they think it was suffering just from being in jail, or suffering from something within them that had landed them there?

Karen

Well, you have to start somewhere. A lot of them thought they were suffering from being there. They were justifying why they shouldn’t be there—you know, “the cops just have it out for me,” and victim, victim, victim.

So our first step was to do a forward fold, and I asked, “Is anybody suffering in their body?” Well, they were. They’re so tight, so constricted that a simple forward bend felt like suffering. Once they acknowledged that they were uncomfortable in their bodies, they were better able to look at being uncomfortable in their minds, and to look at whether the world really is out to get them, and how they really want peace. I said, “Peace is your natural birthright. How can we get there?”

I let them know that I’m suffering as well. We’re all suffering together. I may be one step ahead of them, shining the light, but we’re all on this journey. That opened a door. They realized that their bodies were uncomfortable, and their minds were uncomfortable, and slowly they started to become aware of the microcosm/macrocosm: you are suffering “in here” and you feel the victim, and that is going to be mirrored “out there.” God’s gift is to show you, “Look at this. Here is what the universe is showing you,” instead of, “The world is this terrible place.”

You see, a lot of them have tried to commit suicide multiple times, thinking, “The world is out to get me.” I said, “No, the world is just a mirror to let you know what’s going on inside you, and if you can just get the right perspective, you can weed out some of your problems. When you’re ready.” That was my approach.

Gyandev

What else was an important part of your approach?

Karen

I found that I needed to use music, because quiet is too quiet for these kids. They were very tamasic, and tamasic plus quiet equals sleep. I needed to move them into rajas. And I’m the perfect person to do that [laughs].

So I used alternative rock-and-roll that teaches, uses Sanskrit words, talks about the illusion, talks about God, and what God is like, stuff like that. They don’t get to hear any music in jail, and they liked this, so I was able to get their attention with that.

I would take the words or phrases out of the songs and explain. For example, one of the songs talks about maya (cosmic illusion). I would explain maya, then play the music. Of course, many of them didn’t understand all this, but that didn’t matter. I was using music to change their cellular memory, so when they hit the streets again and hear rock-and- roll music, they won’t have only the memory of hanging out with their friends and getting high.

I wanted them to remember the peaceful feeling they had, to help them plug into a more positive experience. I used both masculine and feminine music—some very sentimental, about being held and being loved, because they needed that nurturing, too. I had to take them through different stages. I started with fast music. I would say, “Let’s move with the music. Let’s stretch our arms up to the music.” Gradually I slowed it down, and eventually I just shut it off for savasana.

It was the first time many of them had been comfortable in their bodies. Just thinking about it makes me teary-eyed, because in some of them, you can see it in their posture [her chin sinks down into her chest] …

Gyandev

Defeat.

Karen

… and a lot of others were glaring defiance at me. From my own background, I could see what was going on. So I told them, “People will respond to your based on your posture. The hardest thing in the world to do is to see ourselves. We see ourselves from the inside, looking out, but how does the world see us?”

It was all inspiration, because I went in with almost no preparation or intention, mainly because my life was so darn busy. I took in some notes of how I wanted to start, but mostly I just prayed. I knew I was doing the right thing, and I relaxed because I didn’t feel intimidated by them. After all, they’re just teenagers. It was really incredible because some of them who had been so wound up and tight just started crying—and this was the first day!

When the class ended, everyone thought they were tired. I said, “You’re not tired. You’re just centered and grounded for the first time, and this is what it feels like. You are relaxed, you are in your body.” You see, they are used to being stuck in their heads.

When I walked out of that first class, a woman who works there came up to me and said, “You’re really good with those teenagers.” Another person came up to me with a piece of paper and said, “Somebody put this on my desk this morning, and I think it belongs to you.” It was an application for a mini-grant from Placer County Health and Human Services, and what I was doing fit the grant requirements perfectly.

Gyandev

Tax money.

Karen

Yes, and they all wanted me to come back.

Gyandev

The kids too?

Karen

Oh yes. They all called me “Miss Yoga.” Even the teachers called me that because they couldn’t remember my name. I kept going back and doing it—and being very moved by them.

There was an incredible story: I had a dream one night before my class. I was with this girl who wanted to spit at me because she was so angry with me. I was trying to help her, but she started scaring me because she was so out of control. I started to run from her, but everywhere I went she was there.

Then suddenly I was in my children’s room, sitting by the window looking out at the creek, happy to be home, and the water is so still. Then I was in bed with my husband, and I thought, “I’m safe.” But when I rolled over and opened my eyes, she was there. I screamed and bolted upright in bed. Next day, there she was in my class.

Gyandev

You recognized her from the dream?

Karen

[nodding] I said, “I had a dream about you last night.” I have to have some mystery about me, to keep them in suspense; it entices them to come back. I went to adjust her and she had bandages around her wrists. She had slashed her wrists the night before and died—had to be resuscitated. That night they put her in juvenile hall.

I guess some of the kids told her, “Miss Yoga is coming tomorrow,” so she came to class the next day. Meanwhile, I guess a part of her had still been wandering outside her body while I was asleep. Well, it freaked the heck out of me to see her. But things like that happened.

Gyandev

Were there other teachers at juvenile hall?

Karen

Oh yes. They taught regular school subjects. I came in under the “health” category—not that I know that much. I was teaching them health in Sanskrit [laughs].

Eventually the other teachers started participating and seeing the changes happen. Some people didn’t like what I was doing, and they complained about the way I dressed— too suggestive. Whoa! I wore baggy pants and an even baggier shirt; if I had worn a burlap sack I guess that would have been even better. The irony was that other teachers dressed, well, almost racy. But I had to keep my ego out of it, just work through it and not take it personally. I knew that those kids and I really needed each other, that I was growing immensely from this, healing a lot of my own wounds.

Whenever I would bring in metaphysical understanding, the Christians would object. You know—religions, dogma. At a mystical level they’re all doing the same thing that yoga is doing, but on a surface level there was friction. So I constantly had to be creative, I had to find language that wouldn’t offend the people who were watching behind that one-way mirror.

Gyandev

How did a typical class unfold?

Karen

First I would rearrange everybody. Usually the most vocal ones were in the back, and they would destroy all the energy, so I moved them right up front. I told them what I saw about their posture: “Here’s how you look. This is what your body is presenting to me, and the universe is going to respond to you based on how you are presenting yourself to it.”

That usually got them to toe the line. A couple times I had to ask someone to leave because he or she was disrespectful to the others. I didn’t do that in the beginning, but I soon realized that I had to. When they came back the next time—it was still better than sitting in their cells—they would be quiet. After rearranging everybody, I would sit them down and introduce some Sanskrit words. We might even have a discussion; they have a lot of energy and want to talk.

Eventually the class moved into circle. They were interested and had questions. We talked a lot about maya. This process was demolishing their reference point, so they didn’t have anything familiar to plug in to. It created a perfect opening.

Gyandev

How long would this go on? And how long was the entire class?

Karen

The class was two hours long, and this discussion would last maybe 10 minutes. Then we would stand and do some Energization Exercises: get them running, moving their energy, get them tired so they could sit for awhile.

Then we would do yoga with the affirmations. They would yell out, “I am free! I am free!” That was so ironic! Sometimes we would burst out laughing, and I could tell they were really crying, but it manifested as laughter. So we would laugh together.

I would play the music, lead a faster pace, and we would yell out the affirmations. I had to keep them moving. They wanted to yell, and usually their yelling was sitting in their cells hitting their heads against the wall or something like that.

Instead we would yell the affirmations—with JOY: “Strength and courage fill my body cells!” I know Yogananda would be so proud. He was there with me. Every time I went in, I would ask him to be present just to help me take them through this journey. It was such a neat feeling.

Then I would sit them down for alternate nostril breathing. I would explain how we were balancing the left and right hemispheres of the brain and the neural-respiratory system. I explained how the prana was moving, how this is happening in their bodies. You see, they’re not usually in their bodies. It’s like their souls are lingering outside of them, slowly coming in.

If I looked around and they were gravitating toward the floor, or their eyes were glazed over, I would ask if they understood.

When someone said, “No,” I would ask if anybody understood, and a few would raise their hands. I would say to one of them, “Okay, you translate it for him.” I felt that some of the kids were in there to help move some of the others.

It seemed they were born with a deep understanding, but they rebelled against a world that didn’t understand their understanding, and they ended up in jail—frustrated, purposeless. Now all of a sudden they had a purpose: they could teach the others, and they were eager to do it. This was a great tool.

Gyandev

And very creative. How did you come up with these ideas?

Karen

This is my dharma. All the ideas just came up as I was trying to keep them entertained, keep them from gravitating down to the floor.

A couple years earlier I wouldn’t have been so clear, so it was just timing. We ended up getting into Vedic psychology, too, like how they perceive the world, how they have chosen a particular identity in this life. A lot of them had been to therapists, but therapy doesn’t give an understanding like this, so it made the kids think deeply.

Well, they got it. And of course the teachers on the other side of the mirror were thinking, “Oh my God.”

Gyandev

I’m surprised you didn’t get thrown out on your ear.

Karen

Yeah, I was walking on the edge. People would say, “That was way out there, you know, and so-and-so is watching you.”

But I figured that if I’m doing God’s work, then God wants me to be here, presenting it the way I was taught, and He will help me be aware of when I’m going over the edge. And I really wanted the job.

Anyway, I never got thrown out. All they complained about was the way I dressed, and I could deal with that.

Gyandev

Let’s get back to the class itself. You have the teens down on the floor and …

Karen

Yes, they’re doing some breathing. Then I tried to get them in touch with their feelings. I didn’t want it to turn into sharing their stories; they have counselors for that. So I would go around with paper and pencils.

They usually aren’t allowed to have pencils because they might go crazy and stab somebody, but I got permission to pass out three colored pencils to each person. Three is the Trinity, so I figured I’d ask for three. I would go around and tell them to pick three colors that called to them, and with the opposite hand draw how they were feeling.

Gyandev

With the opposite hand?

Karen

I explained that if they drew that way they wouldn’t be so critical, as most people are once they get past primary school.

Then I asked each one either to say what they saw in their picture, or have their neighbor do it for them. The process helped them see that each one of them is living in a box, that this is just their own personal perspective, and that every- body else is living in their own boxes, too.

It was all about helping them understand that they have a limited perspective. Their rigid nervous systems, their rigid, constricted behavior, all of that is a limited perspective, and I was trying both to broaden their perspectives and to show them that everybody has his own perspective.

A lot of what I did was under the curriculum of “anger management,” and I would bring in Ayurveda—pitta imbalance and all that. I also had them mirror each other, in pairs.

I had them look at each other and say things like: “I’m Karen, you’re Gyandev, and I see Karen in you,” to get them to see themselves in other people. I would do whatever would come to my mind, depending on how restless they were, how I needed to move them, how I needed to get them to interact.

I would come up with these things to try to get them to see their reflections in others, so they could see how they are projecting their anger on the world and then throwing stones at the world. Bulimia and wrist-slashing are big among the girls; manipulation—just another way of throwing stones. It all ended up however it ended up. Sometimes they were so happy and blissful that we would just laugh. Or cry. Lots of tears came up.

Gyandev

How about anger?

Karen

We never ended with anger. I think maybe they came in angry, and the class helped them begin to understand their anger a little better.

Once a kid blurted out, “I’m so angry,” so I went to him and asked, “Can I do an experiment with you?” He’s the kind who likes to be on stage, so he said, “Sure.” I sat next to him and had him breathe: expanding inhalation, constricting exhalation.

I had him close his eyes, and I ran my hand up and down his spine so he could get the feeling of where he was going with his breath. I don’t do “therapy”—I strictly avoid it—but I did ask him to focus on his anger for a moment and see what it’s about. Very soon he opened his eyes, and his face was completely soft—no “I am angry!” look anymore.

It turns out his mother is into yoga and herbs and New Age stuff, and in rebellion he had gone to the opposite extreme: drinking and getting high and stealing cars. In response, she apparently would say, “You are evil and dark.” You know, the usual family dynamics.

I think that our yoga practice—plus the fact that, to them, I’m something of a mother figure—brought up his “mother issues,” and he got angry. When he saw what was going on, he softened; later he went home again. Unfortunately, he ended up back in jail in three months later. Well, it seems to be a safe environment for some of them.

Gyandev

So you had two hours, but how much of that was for postures?

Karen

An hour. They liked the postures and the music. They like rhythm, they like to dance.

Gyandev

How about deep relaxation?

Karen

I ended with about 15 minutes of Savasana, enough so I could get around to everyone. I would also do some yogassage during the class, and that was huge. They’re never touched. They’ve been beaten, sexually abused, they’ve abused themselves. Then I come up and put a hand on their shoulder or give a little tug on their neck—they were like, “Are you going to do that thing to my back?”

There were so many in there, I had to leave enough time, because once my time was up, no matter what, the jailers would come in and the kids would have to return to their cells.

Gyandev

So you started out with about 10 minutes of arranging the students and talking about Sanskrit words, yoga philosophy, Ayurveda. You had about 15 minutes of deep relaxation in Savasana at the very end, plus an hour doing postures. And the remaining half an hour?

Karen

Projects that popped up, because I sensed that would be a way to harness their energy and involve them. That came after the postures, because then they would be relaxed and more open to whatever was trying to move out of them.

The very beginning was about getting them wondering about life, noticing things, and working with breath. They loved the breathing—it clears your mind, makes you feel light, open. Alternate nostril breathing, whatever, just to get them breathing and noticing their breath.

Gyandev

When did you do the breathing in your class?

Karen

At the beginning. I would start with alternating nostril breathing. Sometimes I had them slump forward on the exhalation, then straighten up and expand on the inhalation, showing them how we constrict and how we expand. We would do that at the beginning—after the discussion and before the postures—and sometimes also at the end before deep relaxation.

Sometimes we would skip the breathing and go straight into Energization. I tried to give them diversity. I’ll tell you, in Energization they look like they’re going to pop a vessel. They are doing it! Red faces, little veins bulging out.

Gyandev

It’s usually a struggle to get people to put enough energy into Energization.

Karen

Not people with that kind of anger! They are doing it just through their anger. It’s perfect for anger management: instead of screaming, they tense.

Gyandev

When did you start teaching these classes?

Karen

November 2000, six months after Ananda Yoga Teacher Training. I wanted to work since I had just invested in Ananda Yoga Teacher Training, so as soon as I got home I started getting my ducks in line: I did a resume. I started getting non-profit status for my business, Contemporary Healthcare, which I founded to help bring different healing modalities together and educate people about health and personal responsibility. And being the kind of person I am, I wanted it all to happen right now.

Gyandev

Yogananda loved that attitude. He said the American spirit is, “Eventually? Eventually? Why not now?”

Karen

Well, I try not be disappointed when it doesn’t happen as fast as I want. I have to remember that the rest of the world doesn’t move that quickly.

Gyandev

How long were you doing this before people became aware of you and you got other opportunities?

Karen

Not long. Soon after that first class, I got a grant. Also, there was a guy observing at the first class. He works with the detention center—counseling, working with the parents. His name is Tom. He ran the mentorship program before I did the program. Now he has his own company, Golden Sierra Lifeskills, and he was just checking out the new mentor. His new company gives these youths tools, mainly for anger management. He told me he wanted yoga in his program, so I’m working with him.

Gyandev

When did that start?

Karen

About four months later. I began going twice a week to community schools, one in Rocklin and one in Auburn.

Gyandev

The public school system? So it wasn’t just angry kids in jail.

Karen

After they got out of juvenile hall, they would go to these schools, not as regular students, but as a special population. Tom and I are about to work together on another grant, through Proposition 10 (money from state taxes on alcohol and tobacco), where we will work with teenage boys in Placer County who have babies.

I’ll be teaching them yoga, meditation and proper breathing so that they won’t shake their babies when they are angry. This is going to be a statewide project. We’ll travel up and down California to train people to lead the program he’s developed.

Early on I started getting clients who work in Placer County Health and Human Services, because they had read my grants or heard of the work. That was a big boost for my business.

Still I had to keep writing grants, because you can’t keep submitting the same grant; each one has to be different. So I did an extension on the first grant—I called it Teachers of Wisdom. The idea is that once they have the knowledge that I’m offering them, it’s their responsibility to pass it on to another person from their own understanding.

Nobody has ever told them, “I am going to tell you some important things about life, and I want you to go out and tell others.”

Nobody does that; they’re in jail, they’re bad, they don’t get any tools. The counseling they receive is just “talk therapy.”

Gyandev

All they want is for the kids to stop being problems. That’s very different from helping them be a solution for others.

Karen

Exactly. In Teachers of Wisdom, each kid created a book. Each time I would start by talking for about half an hour and I would say, “Don’t write anything yet; just let me talk.”

Later I would give them time to write it in their own words in their books, or draw it, or express it however they needed. Every time I went back they would add to their books.

Gyandev

Fascinating. Is that still happening?

Karen

It just ended.

Gyandev

How long do these grants last?

Karen

About three months. They’re mini-grants.

Gyandev

This doesn’t make sense. You are doing something that’s working, something with observable benefits, but they want you to change it.

Karen

It’s sad, isn’t it? In fact one of the teachers who was coming to my yoga class at the gym—I did finally find other teaching opportunities—submitted a proposal to have me come in as a permanent employee at the detention center, to lead an ongoing program.

She saw the changes, and so did others. In fact, now she does the same thing with them: she puts them in a circle and poses a question for them to wonder about.

Anyway, the other teachers asked for more yoga, and she made that proposal. Unfortunately the people who make the budget decisions have no relationship with these youths. They don’t see what’s happened. It’s really sad.

Realizing this, I went to the main guy, the warden, before the Teachers of Wisdom grant, because he was new. The previous warden was very skeptical about what I was doing, so there was always resistance, questioning, politics.

So I decided I’d better develop a working relationship with the new warden instead of having him find out about me by way of twisted rumors, which can be poison.

I love doing this work. Sometimes after class I’ll be so shaken up, I‘ll just sit in my car and cry, having seen them open their hearts that way. Many hadn’t felt that before.

Gyandev

Was there anything else that you found worked or didn’t work with those kids?

Karen

Lots of things didn’t work. For example, I found I had to allow them to gravitate to the floor a certain amount. Most of them are in tamas, so to expect them to sit up and pay attention, well, it just isn’t going to happen. Okay, so maybe they’ll get it when they are half-asleep on the floor.

Gyandev

What types of poses did you use?

Karen

Just a lot of the ones we do in Ananda Yoga®. I tried to work first on opening the heart; once their heart was open I worked on the lower chakras to strengthen them there and get them to come forward and loosen up. I didn’t try to work with the upper chakras.

Gyandev

That’s not where the issues are with this group.

Karen

Right. The affirmations were wonderful, too; they create an opening for me to talk about the power of manifestation. And some of the kids started meditating in their cells— following the breath. I don’t teach them to have their eyes up; one step at a time. And they would write me letters that they were meditating in their cells, telling me they really appreciate this. It was really powerful.

Gyandev

You’re doing such an amazing service. I know that other Ananda Yoga teachers are interested in similar things. Anything more you can share about these mini-grants that might help someone get started?

Karen

It’s not hard. I had never written a grant. My father gave me some good advice: answer the questions very specifically, don’t dance around the issues, be direct, really tell them what you plan to do.

Also, I discovered that when people get familiar with you and your work, they start to tell you about other grants that are available. And some will even help you figure out what to say in your grant proposals, because they want to see it work for you—and for the kids.

Some people don’t want to write grants because they seem mysterious, or are too much work, but when you are doing what you love, that’s a pretty small issue.

Gyandev

So the mini-grants are continuing. What other directions are you moving in?

Karen

I also contract with Golden Sierra Lifeskills as a part of their program to empower youths. My newest interest is a coalition in which I’ll team up with other members of the community to work on projects sponsored by the public school system and the Placer County Office of Education (Prevention Service Department).

The coalition is volunteer-based, although some of the participants are sent by their employers (e.g. Caring About Kids, Hewlett Packard, Health and Human Services). We’re forming committees that will apply for grant money to fund various programs. There is a lot of grant money out there; it’s just a matter of winning the grant.

My role in the coalition is to put together a Youth Health Clinic and develop an assets-building training program. This program is about reducing the stress of planning for the future by developing the capacity to make decisions here and now. And that requires better self-understanding.

These are the tools I want to offer to youths. This is the contribution I want to make.

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