If you’re going to deal effectively with hurting people, you must love them. In fact, they have to know that you care, that you like them, and are proud of their progress. They may do things that hurt themselves, other people, or you. They may act in unlovable ways. They may not know why they do those things and they may feel very badly about themselves. They may not feel worthy of love, but they are. Every single one of them. All the time. They still need consequences for their bad behavior, but it must be done in love.

Be kind. For everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.

I have spent my life working with hurting kids, often knowing their stories that I couldn’t share. If there are “good” kids, then there are “bad” kids. I can’t know someone’s heart, but I know this: you show me a kid who is making really “bad” decisions, and I’ll show you a lot of pain in their story. Because I’ve had the privilege of hearing so many heartbreaking stories, I have learned a lot about people. Sometimes those bad behaviors make a lot more sense once you know someone’s story. Understanding their perspective doesn’t make bad behavior okay, but it does allow you to have empathy for them as a person and be able to form a relationship that earns the right to build influence.

Our dogs represent a lot of what I’ve learned.

Good dogs do good things and our golden retriever, Carly, was the best. In fact, from the day we brought her home as a puppy, Carly was easy to have around. She was calm, friendly, gentle, sweet, and obedient. When we said, “Come,” she came happily bounding toward us. When we told her to, “Go lay down!” we knew she’d rather be beside us, but she did it. Everybody else loved Carly too because she celebrated every visitor who came to our house with a smile, personal greeting, and wag of the tail. She loved to be petted and talked to. She did tricks by command and never did we worry about the safety of our guests or small children. Sometimes she acted scared during fireworks shows or thunderstorms, but that was understandable and we planned for it. Carly was a constant source of unconditional love in all our lives and everything she did said, “I love you and being with you is what I live for!” If you would have come to our house, she would have wanted to be your best friend. You probably would have said, “What a great dog!!” And you would have been right. She just died and we want her back.

My son’s black lab, Ace, is a different story. We got him at around two years old, but his growth was stunted and he has stayed the size of a puppy. Ace doesn’t come when we call him and he isn’t friendly or outgoing. He wouldn’t come near you and he wouldn’t let you pet him. He paces and runs constantly and rarely can relax. When visitors arrive at our house, he runs as far away as he can get. He doesn’t obey commands and he leaves puddles in the house. He learned one trick: how to “shake,” but he only does it for a few people. He didn’t wag his tail. If you come to our house, Ace could only interact with you from a great distance. You probably would not say, “What a great dog!” Maybe cute dog, but most people do not become endeared to him the way they did with Carly because there isn’t the personal connection. Ace doesn’t love them; he fears them.

That makes me sad for Ace because I know his story. I want people to love Ace as much as I do. Here’s what I know.

Ace’s story.

Matt adopted Ace from a shelter. He doesn’t know his birthday. He was taken from a home that had dozens of dogs that weren’t very well taken care of. Matt chose Ace knowing he would have some issues.

Adopted life with Ace started in crisis.

Ace had been ours less than 24 hours when Matt decided to take him on a hike with my husband and a couple friends. He fit him with a harness for comfort and off they left early in the morning for a beautiful trek in the North Cascade wilderness. Matt couldn’t wait to show Ace the freedom and beauty of the mountain wilderness. To allow him to chase squirrels, swim, and see the world beyond his lonely indoor kennel. A volunteer at the shelter told Matt he liked to go on hikes.

The hiking trip turned stressful when just a few feet up the trail, Ace panicked and wiggled free from his harness. He ran away as fast as he could and disappeared. Despite Matt’s calls, Ace would not come back. He was lost in the wilderness, alone and afraid.

Love never gives up.

My son never gave up on his dog. He called and searched. He made posters and facebook posts. He enlisted the help of family and friends. Other volunteers joined in to hike and searched. They talked to campers in nearby campgrounds. He bought live traps, filled with delicious smelling chicken, hot dogs, hamburgers, and steak.

Every day Matt traveled for hours to search and work on finding Ace. After several days, some people reported seeing a little black lab near the campground. Matt learned that Ace never left the area where he first ran away. Matt knew he had no food and was likely scared to death. Bears and other wildlife tore up the traps and tried to get the food. We believe Ace was watching, hearing, and smelling it all from his secret hiding spot. Even with the yummy smell of meat coming from the live trap, Fear and the need for safety kicked Hunger and the need to be loved out of the driver’s seat and took the wheel.

Finally, on the twelfth day, hunger wore him down and he entered the live trap for a meal. Matt arrived at the trailhead to find a weak, emaciated, starving little dog that had been riddled with anxiety for almost two weeks. It worked! He had his dog back! Little Ace had been rescued and all the searching and effort had been worth it. Matt scooped up his bony puppy and brought him home. He had work to do.

To make sure he didn’t run away, he had to always be on the leash. Every rib and vertebrae was showing, so he needed to eat and sleep a lot and be warm. He had to grow used to the sound of Matt’s voice and experience his care and kindness over and over to begin to build trust.

Slowly things started to change. Ace is better now than he used to be. We call him and he comes. Matt gets a big smile on his face when he describes that, “Sometimes Ace acts like a normal dog!” One day he wagged his tail and we all celebrated. He stays in the yard, too, without running away! Sometimes, I can give him a doggie treat and he will eat it out of my hands. But, he wouldn’t let you feed him. He still pees when a stranger gets too close. He is nowhere near the way Carly was, but we don’t care. We just love him so much! We are so thrilled that he is better than he was. I can tell that he likes it when we pet him, even though it’s a big decision for him to let us. Many times when someone calls him he veers toward us happily, but fear takes over and he changes his mind and runs away.

I often wonder what Ace went through to make him like this. Why is he so much more scared of men, especially if they’re wearing camouflage or have a beard? What needs went unmet that caused him to choose safety, starvation, and isolation over love and food and relationship? Why is he so scared by humans that he shakes and loses control of his bladder?

Something happened to Ace.

Carly only ever knew love and safety. Her world was a safe place and new people became new opportunities to give and receive love.

Life taught Ace that the world is not safe and your needs do not get met. People hurt you and cannot be trusted. Survival depended on isolation and defense mechanisms.

Animals and people have some things in common.

Ironically, “ACE” stands for Adverse Childhood Experiences. In 1998 a groundbreaking study was conducted by Kaiser Permanente that investigated the impact of childhood trauma on physical and mental health problems. Research shows that childhood trauma doesn’t just go away. There is a strong correlation between the two. Chronic stress and trauma actually rewires our brains and bodies, changes our behavior. Each person responds to trauma in a different way, so while one person may withdraw and isolate, another might become very hostile and aggressive. These issues can affect our mental and physical health.

Generally speaking, the “good” kids aren’t perfect, but they may be considered friendly and outgoing. They respond to school rules and social norms. They don’t struggle as much with the authority or accountability and confrontation. They are much more motivated to achieve and show up to school ready to learn and do their work. They make less destructive choices in their personal lives. They enjoy new experiences and meeting new people because they experience the world as mostly safe and loving. We don’t have to work that hard for them to trust or respect us and they don’t display as much erratic or dangerous behavior. It can often be heard said of them, “What a great kid!”

I seriously love all kids, but I have always had a soft spot for the kids labeled as “at risk.” We usually don’t call them “bad kids,” but you don’t hear people calling them “the good kids” either. They don’t typically earn lots of rewards or scholarships. These students aren’t always real friendly. They might not smile at the teacher or show respect when they walk in the classroom. They don’t follow all the school rules and they don’t naturally trust authority. Sometimes they are overly defensive or aggressive when called into accountability. If they don’t like someone, they don’t fake it. They don’t eagerly participate in new experiences. Sometimes they hide under desks, in the bathrooms, or under the hood of their sweatshirt. Sometimes they hide behind poor hygiene or failing grades or a screen. Sometimes they tell the principal to F*#! Off and punch him in the face.

I know there are exceptions, but if you show me a high school student who is too scared to walk down the street or starts weeping during a good touch/bad touch video during health class, something has likely happened. I always wondered what these kids went through. What did they see, hear, or feel? What need are they trying to meet through their behavior?

I don’t need to know what someone has gone through to show love and grace. My former principal always said, “Sometimes the kids who need kindness the most deserve it the least.” I don’t believe that bad behavior means the kid is bad or doesn’t have a good heart. Sure, there is evil in the world and people and kids make really bad decisions.

People and animals need kindness. They need us to see the good in them when they can’t see it in themselves. They know they’ve done bad things, but they need people who know THEY aren’t bad. People can get better and grow where they are loved.

I see Ace smile now and wag his tail. Love has not fixed him, but he’s made so much progress! I know he wants me to speak softly to him and to show me how he can “shake!” He may not come when someone calls him, but it isn’t because he wouldn’t love to be able to enjoy connection. He can’t trust strangers yet, but he’s working on it. I just love that dog.